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Two weeks ago, holidaymaker Sarah Lee-Anne Reid, 20, of Ballynahinch, Co Down, died after being found unconscious outside one of the nightclubs on the tiny island.
One has decided a hammer is for wimps and asks for his tequila boom to be served with a flurry of blows from a fire extinguisher. He ends up with a chipped tooth. Meanwhile, on the other side of the dark Kiva Bar, a man whips out his penis and wraps it around his wrist to simulate a watch. Hvar makes Magaluf look like Downton Abbey. Some do not manage to make it and end up slumping to the floor, drenched in their own sick and sweat.
Others use the toilets for a different purpose — to fondle somebody they have taken a fancy to, or in one case we saw, have full sex. The bride-to-be has earlier told me she is only here for the laughs and to have a boogie with her pals. It is only 11pm in Hvar and for the young Brits who swarm all over the historic Adriatic Sea port, the night has just begun. It is a six-hour trip from London involving a plane, a bus and a ferry — but the wild nightlife makes it all worthwhile for many.
The island was not always like this. Just a few years ago, Hvar attracted an older crowd keen on enjoying the sun, 13th century history and the upmarket restaurants dotted around the harbour.
Now, as locals tuck into their lunch, the peaceful view of the Adriatic is interrupted by drunks running past naked or having alfresco sex in broad daylight. Yesterday I found a couple having sex on my doorstep. Around the corner a man is being searched by police for drugs.