Sunday, August 2 Waiting in Brussels Airport!
Truth be told, my adventure did not begin well. I packed my
bag full of bikinis and sundresses and headed for the Brussels airport on
Sunday evening for my 10:00 pm flight to Ibiza.
Upon arrival at the airport, I was dismayed to see the posting that my
flight was delayed….not a good sign for a late evening flight. I proceeded to check in, and with extra time
on my hands, lingered before passing through security to spend 16 euros on a
plate of pasta and a coffee. Vueling Airlines had given me a food voucher for 8
euros, so that covered my cup of coffee I guess!
I swiftly cleared security in Brussels’ new wing which was
very quiet on a Sunday evening. Along
with my fellow passengers, including a group of young Flemish women all wearing
t-shirts emblazoned with ‘Team Bride,’ I
waited for the announced delayed departure time of midnight. When the appointed hour finally arrived, a
Vueling employee apologetically announced that our flight had been
cancelled. We were asked to go and get
rebooked for tomorrow, and collect our suitcases. I opted for taxi vouchers that were being
offered, and returned home tired and disappointed not to spend my first night
in Ibiza as planned.
Monday, August 3 Arriving in Ibiza….at last!
We had been told to arrive at the airport the following day
by 11:00 for a 2:00 pm flight, so once again I found myself eagerly departing,
this time by taxi rather than the airport bus.
In contrast to the previous evening, the check-in line on a busy Monday
in early August was trailing through the airport, as Vueling shares facilities
with Iberia, so all passengers were in the same snaking line. No matter, I thought to myself, since I would
finally be on my way. It didn’t go quite
so smoothly as that. Once again at the
gate, another delay was announced. The
flight would be at 4:00 pm, not 2:00 pm.
‘Team Bride’ and countless others remained calm, but we were
exasperated, and all beginning to wonder if we would ever get to our now
dreamlike destination. Many passengers
were taking pictures of the delays announced on the monitor at our gate, and
one woman took the initiative to gather names and email addresses of other
passengers in order to file a group complaint.
The flight was further delayed twice: first to 4:30 pm and finally to
4:45. When a very young looking pilot
appeared, along with the flight crew, the passengers cheered and clapped. We finally boarded and were on our way at
5:00 pm…….19 hours late!
Stepping off the plane in Ibiza two hours later felt like a
dream….I was finally at my destination after hours of waiting! I had a scheduled shuttle ride that had of
course been postponed several times, so I didn’t know what to expect when I
arrived. What I found as I exited
baggage claim brought a huge smile to my face.
A sign had been posted on the door of the shuttle office: WELCOME TO IBIZA JULIE GARKOV. Welcome indeed! I was further instructed to go four doors
down to a partner company where the man behind the desk quickly dispatched me
as the sole passenger in a shuttle headed for Eivissa, 20 minutes away.
My accommodation was to be a private apartment shared with
other guests through Air Bnb, my first experience with this organization. The driver dropped me off at the lobby of
Ibiza Gran Hotel, just across the street from the famous Pacha Club and next
door to my apartment. There I found
Sophia waiting for me with her friend Jeana who she had met while working in
Trujillo, Peru during her gap year. I
should explain that Sophia has been in Ibiza since June where she is spending
her summer after her first year at the University of Glasgow. Her boyfriend Pierre, who she also met while
working as a volunteer English teacher in Trujillo, is working at The Hard Rock
Café in Eivissa.
I was so happy to see Sophia, finally meet her close friend Jeana who she had told me so much about, and settle into my home away from
home! The apartment was charming,
decorated comfortably and stylishly with a slightly bohemian flair that
immediately appealed to me. The Air Bnb
hostess, Ana Lucia, is of Argentinian and Italian origin, and has been living
on Ibiza for two and a half years. She
is a world traveller and also a polo player who often plays as the only woman
on all male teams, so I enjoyed speaking with her about her experiences.
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| view of Dalt Vila from the port of Eivissa |
The contrast of Brussels cool and Ibiza heat was strong, but
since my goal was to wear real summer clothes and spend as much time in my
bathing suit as possible, I wasn’t about to complain. Soon after arrival and
having unpacked my suitcase, we headed into the town as the sun was setting.
The walk along the promenade and towards the port was a leisurely twenty
minutes, and there was an abundance of people out on the streets as the evening
approached. I had my first view of the
lovely Dalt Vila, the old town of Eivissa which rises up above the port on a
hill surrounding the cathedral. We were
headed exactly there, as Sophia wanted to take us to a restaurant she had
discovered, run by a German. It is
tucked away off the cobbled street that winds its way up through the old town,
lined with whitewashed houses, covered in bougainvillea, with laundry flapping
from the windows. The restaurant is called
‘La Scala’ and though we arrived after 9:00 pm, we were immediately seated in a
vine covered courtyard with candles flickering on the tables. I felt
elated…..such a far cry from the previous evening spent waiting in the
airport! All the delays and frustration
had been worth it.
One of the dishes we sampled was a Japanese ceviche that
blended the Asian flavours of soy sauce, ginger and sesame with this
traditional Peruvian dish in which raw fish ‘cooks’ in the acid of lemon
juice. It was delectable! After dinner, we wandered about the Dalt Vila
taking in the night views, and I felt euphoric surrounded by so much beauty and
history, and sharing it all with my daughter and her friend. By that time, Pierre had finished his late
work shift, and met up with us for a drink at a cool bar sprawling over a
series of steps where customers flop on oversized cushions.
My first evening in Ibiza……life doesn’t get much better than
this…
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| Sophia and Jeana | | | | |
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| our dinner at La Scala |
Tuesday, August 4 Platja de Ses Salines
Soon after arriving in Ibiza, you accustom yourself to a
different rhythm....one of late nights when the temperature cools a bit and the
streets, restaurants, cafés and clubs hum with activity, sleeping to the hum of
an electric fan (air conditioning lacking), and waking late to a light
breakfast, just enough to tide you over until you get to the beach, pool or
other destination for the day.
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| my room in Ibiza |
My first morning, I headed out to find a little grocery
store nearby to stock myself with some basic provisions for the coming
days. I like staying in an apartment
while on vacation since you can make your own schedule for breakfasts, and
access to a kitchen gives you the option to avoid restaurants when their
novelty wears thin. Sophia and I stayed
in touch using Viber, and typically sent each other ‘Good morning’ messages
each day to start our plans. I walked
along the same route by the port to meet her in the center at the tourist
information office. We began planning a
trip we had already discussed: an overnight to the nearby island of Formentera,
40 minutes away by ferry. Pierre had two
days off from work, so I reserved a room for us in a hotel there, we bought the
roundtrip ferry tickets, plus bicycle rental for two days on the island. With business taken care of, we had lunch in
a bakery, and studied the bus schedule to head for the beach in the
afternoon. I found that no matter how
hot it got in Ibiza, if I could go swimming every day, all was right with the
world!
Sophia and I headed for Platja de Ses Salines by bus. Catalán is the language of Ibiza, though of
course everyone speaks Spanish too, not to mention Italian (There are so many
Italian tourists that many Italians are also working in the tourist trade in
Ibiza and Formentera.) To reach this beach, we travelled through the Parque
Natural de Ses Salines located just south of the airport on the island’s
southern coast, but a truly scenic area.
The salt flats have been an important source of trade for more than
2,000 years, and from the bus windows, we saw a huge pillar of salt left behind
after the sea evaporated in the summer heat. We arrived at the beach in mid-afternoon to
find it crowded and hot. We found a bare
spot large enough to plant our sun umbrella, and then went for a swim. While lying in the shade afterwards, I was
entertained by the continuous parade of vendors offering an array of treats
(fresh fruit, mojitos on trays, cold beer in coolers, colourful African cotton
spreads, sunglasses, and more!) Then came
the ‘hippies’ advertising for one of Ibiza’s many clubs.
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| beach at Ses Salines |
Back in Eivissa for the evening, Sophia and I made a pasta
salad for dinner and ate it by candlelight at the table on the balcony. We also played a round of Scrabble which
Sophia won! (a rematch from an earlier
game this summer played while in Bulgaria where I won….:-)
Wednesday, August
5 Formentera…..platja
de sa Roqueta
Since Pierre had had to work late Tuesday night, then came to
pick up Sophia by moto from my place after 1:00 am, we aimed to leave for
Formentera on the 12:30 ferry. I met
them there at the docks where a large crowd was gathered, and we feared we
might not get seats on this passage, but all went well and we were able to
board. The crossing was pleasant and
passed quickly, with some waves and wind, and a great view of Dalt Vila from
the water.
Once on Formentera, we made our way to the bicycle rental
and took off for our hotel, a 4 km ride over flat territory edging salt
flats. The Hotel Lago Playa was situated
just meters from Platja de sa Roqueta, and the water here was incredibly clear
and a dazzling shade of aqua. Formentera
is a much smaller island with a curious spur shape, and is a more peaceful,
less developed version of Ibiza. That
evening, we rode our bikes up the road to the small tourist enclave known as es
Pujols, where we found more Italians than Spaniards, and a variety of
restaurants to choose from. Remnants of
the town’s fishing past could still be seen in the weathered boat houses that
lined the small port. We chose an
elegant beachfront restaurant called Bocasalina where the candlelit tables
beckoned us as we passed by. Sophia and
I both ordered a seafood paella, and we were not disappointed. After dinner, we
strolled through the town, which turned out to be larger than it had appeared
at first glance, lined with shops, restaurants and cafés all catering to the
tourist trade. Out bike trip back to the
hotel was a bit of an adventure, as Sophia’s bike was the only one which had a
functioning headlight, and Pierre and I had to make our way in the dark,
following Sophia’s beacon!
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| Es Pujols |
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| at Bocasalina in es Pujols |
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Thursday, August 6 Formentera….platja de Llevant
After breakfast, we made our way by bike along the road extending
out along a narrow peninsula jutting into the sea. This zone is also a protected area known as
ses Salines, and cars were expected to stop and pay a fee to enter. It has been declared a World Heritage site by
UNESCO along with ses Salines on Ibiza, and is home to the unique Mediterranean
aquatic plant known as posidonia oceanica, a seagrass with roots, stems,
leaves, flowers and fruit. Biologists believe that it was once a land plant,
and the prairie that extends 700 square kilometres from Es Freus, Formentera to
ses Salines, Ibiza originates from one seed. It flowers in the autumn and bears
fruit in the spring, in opposition to its land-growing ancestors. Posidonia’s massive presence in these waters
is a bio indicator of the health of this stretch of sea, as it produces and
releases oxygen, helps prevent erosion, serves as a source of food for numerous
aquatic animals, and forms the habitat for many species.
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| at platja de sa Roqueta | | | | | | | | | | |
|
We again rode past salt flats which provide the famous ‘Sal
de Ibiza’ sold in tourist shops. Our destination was Platja de Llevant, and
here we found a glorious stretch of beach to ourselves, where despite the high
season, we could bathe and swim in peace with very few others in our
midst. The water everywhere in Ibiza and
Formentera was such a perfect temperature that you didn’t hesitate for a second
to plunge in, and could remain for hours without getting cold. It could not have been more perfect! Sophia, Pierre and I played in the waves here
and felt thoroughly relaxed and happy.
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| salt flats on Formentera |
Our plan was to return to es Pujols for an early dinner,
then take our bags from the hotel, cycle back to the port, and catch the 10:00
pm ferry back to Ibiza. Pierre had to
work at the Hard Rock on Friday morning. At every restaurant we inquired what
time dinner service started, and the reply was invariably “alle otto.” This means “at eight o’clock” in Italian
which was the apparent working language of all waiters in es Pujols despite the
fact that we were in Spanish territory, and the local language is catalán! We had an hour before dinner then, so stopped
to have a cocktail in an attractive bar, then made our way to Canloca for
Italian seafood cuisine which included my dish of spaghetti neri con gamberi
(black spaghetti with shrimp), Sophia’s spaghetti alle vongole (spaghetti with
clams), and Pierre’s ceviche peruano con leche de coco. While enjoying our delicious dinner, we
became alarmed by the hour, as our intention was to catch the 10:00 pm ferry,
and we still had to ride back to the hotel and get our bags, as well as return
the bikes before getting on the ferry. We
started to make a mad dash in full stress mode and while still digesting, but
luckily Pierre had the good sense to start laughing and declare that it was
impossible to make it in the 30 minutes we had remaining. We all stopped at once, and carried on in the
relaxed mode that had prevailed up until that point, enjoying the view of the
darkening sea as darkness fell all around us.
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| ceviche con leche de coco |
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| spaghetti neri con gamberi |
We passed the time lolling on the chaise lounges by the
hotel pool, listening to The Doors emanating from the bar as we waited for the
moment to mount our bicycles with bags strapped on to ride the 4 kilometers to
the port for the 1:30 am ferry crossing. Pierre and I rode in pitch darkness
again, with only the headlights of an occasional passing car or motorbike to
keep us from steering into the salt flats along the road. I discovered too late that my receipt from
the bicycle rental stated that the bikes were to have been returned by 7:30
pm! We wrote a note of explanation,
wrapped it around the bike padlock keys after locking up our bikes, and dropped
it in the mailbox. At the port, a small
group of passengers began to assemble, and our ferry eventually appeared out of
the darkness. It was a quiet ride back
to Eivissa with most passengers dozing.
I was struck by the sight of a young woman on crutches with her leg in a
cast and bandages who appeared to have been in a motorbike accident. Her two male companions seemed tired and
subdued. I could only imagine that their
vacation fun had been cut dramatically short.
This convinced me that renting a motorbike without experience to get
around on Ibiza is a foolish idea, as the roads are often terribly steep and
winding. It would be easy to lose
control if you weren’t careful, or were not accustomed to the vehicle.
We said goodnight at the docks, and I walked back to the
apartment at 2:30 am with the streets still busy with people, and the night
young outside the entrance to Pacha, where the theme on Thursdays was the
extremely popular F*** Me I’m Famous with French DJ David Guetta. People were
lining up on the sidewalk to get in, and I squeezed by girls in stilettos,
tight skirts and full makeup, wearing flip-flops and with the sand of
Formentera still in my tangled hair.
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| If it's Thursday, it must be F*** Me I'm Famous with David Guetta |
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| Pacha Hotel by night |
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| Pacha club |
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| Flower Power at Pacha |
Friday, August 7 Eivissa
Pierre had to go to work this morning, and Sophia and I were
still tired from our Formentera adventures, so we spent a quiet day looking in
a few shops (including a second hand shop on her street where I spotted a Pepe
jeans sundress for 7 euros and snapped it up..:-), then returned to my
apartment to cool off in the air-conditioned living room, and swim and relax by
the pool. We met Ana Lucia in the
apartment and had a nice chat with her about her life in Ibiza. She had studied law and worked in London before
deciding to move to Ibiza. She is not the actual owner of the apartment, but
manages the Air Bnb for a lady lawyer from Madrid. Ana Lucia’s dream is to buy a house in the
countryside here with room for horses, and rent out rooms through Air Bnb as she
does now.
Later that evening, I put on my ‘new’ dress, and Sophia took
me to a charming restaurant in old Eivissa called La Brasa. It was a Friday night, and we had no
reservation, but the host whisked us immediately to the perfect table for two
in the charming outdoor patio, dominated by a large palm tree surrounded by
intimate tables, and decorated with glass crystals suspended from above and
reflecting candle light everywhere. The
atmosphere was lovely, congenial and sophisticated. Another lovely evening…I felt myself living a
dream, and revelling in every moment!
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| La Brasa in Eivissa |
Saturday, August 8 Cala Vedella
Today we were back in form after a day of rest, and ready to
explore another new beach.
We got a
direct bus to Cala Vedella on the southwest coast of the island, where a
natural inlet created a safe harbour and a cozy cove with a white sand beach
and calm water for swimming.
As the bus
descended the rocky hillside, I spotted kayaks below, and determined that we
would rent one and explore the nearby coast.
Thirty minutes after our arrival, we had our umbrella and towels set up
on the beach, and were paddling off in an orange kayak for two.
We made our way through the boats anchored in
the cove and followed the rocky coastline, with here and there small inlets to
be explored.
The man who rented us the
kayak had told us about a cave nearby, and also warned to be careful if
swimming from the kayak as jellyfish had been reported in the area.
The problem with jellyfish (as I discovered
later!) is that if you touch one of their tentacles, it contains venom that
stings on contact with your skin and leaves a red burning rash.
Because they are somewhat transparent, you
may not see them while swimming and contact can be unavoidable. Sophia and I
found a rock shelf ‘beach’ with a perfect spot for pulling up the kayak and
taking a swim.
This we did, but then got
nervous when a man who was snorkelling there spotted a jellyfish.
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| kayaking at Cala Vedella |
After returning the kayak an hour later, we relaxed, read
and swam until lunch at a beachfront restaurant with traditional Spanish
cuisine.
Our lunch was a shared tortilla
española, salad, bread and (we couldn’t resist!)…..fresas con nata!
(strawberries with whipped cream)
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| ¡Fresas con nata! |
Back in Eivissa, we showered and got ready for dinner at a special
restaurant that Pierre had discovered, high up in Dalt Vila, with a commanding
view of Eivissa’s port.
I had called the
night before to ensure that we would have a table reserved on Saturday
night.
Kyupiddo is an elegant outdoor
restaurant that fuses Japanese and Mediterranean cuisine. Pierre had checked
the menu and saw that the main dishes were affordable for a special evening out
in Ibiza. (
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xqYq_WQR8_4)
What none of us realised is that on that particular night, Ibiza was
celebrating its independence day with a spectacular fireworks display scheduled
at midnight.
Kyupiddo had planned a
special exclusive party with a set menu by reservation only.
When I had called the previous evening, the
woman I spoke with had not mentioned these details.
When we arrived at 9:00 pm, the staff was
still busy setting up as there had been a light rain just moments before.
They asked for the name on our reservation, and
then invited us to have a drink at the bar while they finished preparing the
tables.
We ordered mojitos and sat marvelling
at the view and the elegant surroundings.
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| Eivissa Port seen from Dalt Vila |
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| Sophia and Pierre at Kyupiddo |
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| Kyupiddo |
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| Dalt Vila by night |
When we finally asked whether we might take our table, we were told
about the exclusive evening at 300 euros per person, and that we could not
order off the regular menu!
After some
discussion with the waiter, who checked with his manager, we were told that
under the circumstances, and because we had been misinformed, we could order
one main course each from the set menu.
This was manageable in our budget, and allowed us to sit at the best
table in the restaurant where we had a fantastic panorama of Eivissa glittering
beneath us, her watery reflection mirroring the lights of the city.
We also had an idea spot for viewing the
fireworks, so we drank our chilled bottle of white wine slowly, and waited for
the magical moment. The display was dramatic and exciting as the bursts of
color and light exploded one after the other continuously for nearly half an
hour.
When we needed to use the toilet,
we were directed to go up one street to the lobby of a charming boutique hotel
called La Torre del Canónigo, located in a building dating from the XIVth
century (
http://latorredelcanonigo.com/en#)
whose balconied bar off reception had an equally glorious view over the
restaurant and city below.
Back at our table,
Pierre informed us that the waiter had insisted that we stay longer, as our
presence was adding atmosphere to the party.
We didn’t dare order any dessert at those prices (!), but they offered
us ‘un chupito’ of the local Ibizan digestif known as ‘un hierbas’ – made from
a concoction of Mediterranean herbs which surely lend it a medicinal quality… :-) In all honesty, they needed us, as there had
not been as many reservations for the event as they had anticipated, so they
were happy to have us gracing their main table.
It was the eve of Alex’s birthday, so we made it into his celebration,
and it was an evening to remember always.
Sunday, August 9 Las Dahlias “Hippy Market”
Sophia came over to join me at the apartment today, feeling
tired and suffering from a sore throat.
We decided to have a quiet day and rest up a bit before traveling by bus to Santa Eulària in the early evening to head to Ibiza’s famous
‘hippy market.’
While Sophia relaxed in
my room, I prepared tuna and avocado sandwiches and melon, and after lunch I
took a quick dip in the swimming pool to cool off.
Towards evening, we took the bus to the charming town
of Santa Eulària, (Santa Eulària des Riu as it is called in catalán) where
we then changed buses to travel to Las Dahlias for the ‘Night Hippy
Market.’
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| Ibizenco dogs in Santa Eulària |
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| Sophia poses with a 'duende' (elf) |
The story behind this market which celebrates its 30
th
anniversary in 2015 is quite fascinating.
On November 4, 1954, a farmer and carpenter
named Joan Mari opened a small roadside bar to celebrate ‘El día de San
Carlos.’
He charged one peseta for a
glass of house wine, and two pesetas for a glass from a labelled wine.
People came from all around, and altogether,
he collected 6,600 pesetas that day.
More importantly, it was an event that was to have a huge social impact
and eventually become a legendary Ibiza institution.
Since 1985, the market with five stalls that
grew up around Joan’s bar and dance hall has become a colourful island
attraction with more than 200 artisans selling handmade jewellery, exotic
clothing, artisanal soaps, paintings, and much more to entice the senses of
tourists and locals alike.
Sophia and I were initially overwhelmed by the sheer size of
the place, as we began to wander among the numerous stalls, admiring the array
of goods. We were entranced by a unique
and fanciful merry-go-round in full tilt, with children riding on horses
recycled from used tires. The whole
operation was generated by manpower and creativity as a tall man in a cowboy
hat pedalled a bicycle fixed in the middle and connected to a series of gears
and belts that kept the whole thing twirling and children begging for more.
By the end of our shopping, Sophia and I had
each acquired a ubiquitous Ibiza white blouse, and I found cool t-shirts
printed in the artwork of Miró and Frida Kahlo, while Sophia chose a serene
airbrushed Buddha painting executed on burlap to hang in her new apartment in
Glasgow. We took the bus back to Santa
Eulària for dinner at an Italian restaurant down a sidestreet filled with
outdoor restaurants and the lively clamour of Spanish summer street life after
dark. We enjoyed a chilled bottle of
cava, though unfortunately, Sophia’s sore throat had turned into a cold, and
she wasn’t quite tiptop. To return to
Eivissa after eleven pm, we caught the nightbus which was filled with people
headed to the capital for some action.
The driver was playing dance music, and it felt like a party all the way
to Eivissa!
Monday, August 10 Aigues Blanques
Today, Sophia was feeling much better, so we once again
caught the bus to Santa Eulàlia where we had coffee and juice at a café along
the central promenade leading down to the beachfront while waiting for our bus
connection to Aguas Blancas (Aigues Blanques). We asked the driver to let us
know when to get off for the short hike to the beach at Aguas Blancas, as most
of the passengers were headed to a more conventional beach called Platja des
Figueral.
After dropping us off along
the hot and dusty road, the driver advised us to wait for him on the opposite
side at 5:15 when he would be coming back through.
Our bus rides were giving me impressions of
the island of Ibiza outside of the tourist hub of Eivissa.
Despite its reputation as a party island,
Ibiza is quite wild and rugged in many places, and possesses an abundance of
natural beauty.
Many of the roads our
bus routes took us were narrow winding passages along rocky precipices.
I was always grateful to have professional
drivers at the wheel so that I could enjoy the scenery.
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| Aigues Blanques |
Sophia and I hiked a short distance along a tree-lined road
and down a steep path to the gorgeous view at the beach at Aguas Blancas.
Here there were tiny rock islands just off
the shore that we could swim to, and a natural rock ‘castle’ tower could be
seen on a rock promontory known as a ‘cala’ in catalán.
There were plenty of people already on the
beach, but we managed to find a cozy spot among the rocky outcroppings and
shelves along the shore, and made our beach camp there.
We swam out to the rock island just in front
of us, and clambered up to its highest point, then back down.
I decided to swim around the ‘island’ while
Sophia waited for me, then she joined me for another tour.
On the other side of the rock, the waves
splashed boldly and brightly, and a young woman with a diving mask and fins
warned us that she had spotted a jellyfish. Back on shore, we read for a bit
under our umbrella, and then walked down the beach to the
chiringuito, a
small beachfront bar tucked into the cliff rocks, and
lined with palm frond sun umbrellas. We drank a beer (the Barcelona brewed
Estrella Damm; see a short film from Spanish director Alejandro Amenábar that
was shot in Eivissa:
http://www.estrelladamm.com/en/)
while waiting for our chance to sit at one of the little umbrella-shaded
tables.
Our patience, tempered by the
cold beer, paid off!
Eventually we had
our table and shared a tasty sandwich while enjoying the perfect view.
After lunch, we decided to go for another swim, and I headed
away from the more crowded beach area towards the cala with the rock
tower.
The swimming here was as
delightful as everywhere I had been on Ibiza.
The salty Mediterranean makes you very buoyant, and swimming is easy and
relaxing.
You can just float on your
back and rest if you get tired.
We
climbed back up to the main road and caught our bus back to Santa Eulària where
I wanted to see the whitewashed church perched up on a hill above the
town.
On our way there, we met a
charming and gregarious cat stretched out on the wall of her front garden.
She greeted us with a yawn, and allowed
Sophia to stroke her.
She had a very
imperial look, such as a revered cat in ancient Egypt might have had, and I
believe she may have been an Abyssinian.
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| We found it like this! |
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| Cemetery at Es Puig de Missa |
The walk up to the Es Puig de Missa, the 16
th
century church of Santa Eulària, was worth the effort!
We happened to approach it just as a funeral
mass was about to begin, and we watched as a casket was rolled up the walkway
followed by the mourners.
The massive
whitewashed walls of this church evidenced that it had also been built as a
fortress against invaders, principally pirates according to my research!
Because of the funeral, we could not visit inside, but caught a glimpse through
the open doorway as we passed into the colonnaded courtyard.
The view over the sea, town and port from above
is sumptuous.
Tuesday, August 11 Hanging
out in Eivissa
I walked into the center to meet Sophia and Pierre, and we
wandered a bit through the old streets around the port, glancing in a few
trendy shops, and observing the ebb and flow of people against the backdrop of
whitewashed walls and crisp white cotton bleaching in the sun, hanging from
balconied windows above. When hunger called, they led me to one of their
favorite lunch spots, a little restaurant called Benjamín which offered a daily
menu for 10 euros that included two courses, followed by coffee or
dessert.
The waiter recognized them, and
was friendly and welcoming.
We sat
outside, with shade offering respite from the sun’s heat.
We had decided that since Pierre again had
two days in a row off in mid-week, we would rent a car so that we could explore
some of the less accessible areas of the island and discover new beaches.
After lunch, we explored our car rental options, and settled
on the safe bet with Avis, after trying to negotiate with an Italian at a local
rental desk who spoke broken Spanish and kept assuring us that he would find us
a car if we would just give him our number.
Pierre had to leave to get ready for work, so Sophia and I continued our
rambling which took us eventually back to the second hand shop where I tried on
a number of fanciful items, but bought only a ceramic garlic pot….just what I
needed!
:-) What did I fancy for dinner,
Sophia asked.
I had imagined earlier
after our full lunch that I would never be hungry again, but of course with so
much tempting food around me, the call to eat returned sooner than
expected.
“I wouldn’t mind having some
tapas,” I replied.
Evening had fallen,
we had been shopping all afternoon, and lights were beginning to come on in the
Plaza del Parque creating the daily magic I had come to enjoy so much. Sophia
had eaten in a tapas restaurant with Pierre on her very first evening in
Eivissa, and she led us there where we had the perfect table at Sa Brisas,
which is no ordinary tapas bar, but a gourmet tapas restaurant which blends
French and Asian influences with the traditional Spanish pinchos or
bitefuls.
Our waiter suggested that we
order five or six different tapas to try.
Sophia advised one that she had tasted before which consisted of a
brioche with a blackened goat cheese, crusty on the outside but warm and soft
in the middle, topped by a deliciously soft dried apricot.
As we attacked these delicacies, we
discovered our fingers, lips and tongues blackened and unwipeable.
“This looks like ash,” I commented to Sophia,
who answered that it couldn’t possibly be, as she jumped up to go wash in the
restroom.
While she was gone, I asked
the knowledgeable hostess what made the cheese black.
“Ceniza,” (ash) she replied, and explained
that this was an old French recipe.
She
offered us some wipes to remove the blackening. I have since read that the
edible ash is made by burning vegetables, and has become a popular trend in
upscale restaurants.
(Read this 2012
Wall Street Journal article for more information:
http://www.wsj.com/articles/SB10000872396390443570904577547523296262282)
 |
| Passeig de Vara de Rey, Eivissa |
 |
| at Sa Brisas with ash-covered goat cheese |
Wednesday, August
12 San Carles, Cala Xarraca, Benirràs, Cala Salada
We picked up the car today, a comfortable four-door SEAT
(Spanish car) with air-conditioning and a radio….what more could we dream
of?!
Pierre was our designated driver
since I have been without a license after my bag was stolen four years ago here
in Brussels. (Plans are underway to finally get it replaced, but I am studying
for the Belgian license which takes a bit more effort – a written test in
French, and an hour-long road test!) I was happy to sit back and enjoy the view
with Pierre ‘al timón’ (at the wheel in Peruvian Spanish… :-))
We travelled north to San Carles, and I kept Pierre and
Sophia fed with a packet of McVitties biscuits I had brought along.
Sophia had happy memories of visiting San
Carles during a local music festival when she first arrived in Ibiza in June,
but we stopped only for a short walk around the tiny town, and bought a cold
bottle of water.
We continued towards
the northern coast until we reached a spot where a number of cars had parked
along the road’s edge, and the view was too spectacular to continue driving by
without stopping for a look and a photo.
We weren’t exactly sure where we were at that point, but we had
‘stumbled’ across our destination: Cala Xarraca.
We scrambled down a rather unofficial looking
path to a rock shelf cove with a fishing dock where sunbathers were already
stretched out here and there, tucked among the rocks. We continued down to a
spot where we planted our sun umbrella directly in the water, and went for a
delicious swim.
I swam all the way
across the small bay and circled around a small rock island before heading back
to our spot.
The water here was
fantastically blue and clear, and I contemplated becoming a mermaid so that I
might live here forever!
Eventually,
however, we got hungry again, and headed back to the car to go in search of
proper nutrition.
I don’t think I would
survive on a fish and seaweed diet, after all.
 |
| Cala Xarraca |
 |
Gazing at paradise |
As pure serendipitous luck would have it, our stomachs lead
us to The Giri Café in Sant Joan de Labritja where we had a succulent lunch
made with ingredients grown right on the spot in the Giri’s own organic
garden.
Giri, I learned, is the Spanish
version of ‘gringo’ as we were told that the owner and founder of The Giri Café
is a giri herself! The atmosphere is relaxed and lovely, with natural and
exotic elements blending with a lush tropical garden.
Check it out here – they have great
photos:
http://www.cafe.thegiri.com/index.html
 |
| street in Sant Joan |
 |
| cute couple I spotted on the street in Sant Joan :-) |
|
We spent the rest of our lazy afternoon meandering down
steep dirt paths where we more than once almost got stuck, in search of perfect
views and beaches.
Towards evening, we
finally made our way to Cala Salada, on Ibiza’s western coast between the
villages of Santa Agnès de Corona and Sant Antoni de Portmany.
Here, the crescent-shaped bay harbors some
sizable yachts that prefer this calmer, less touristy area to drop anchor. We
hoped to watch the sunset here, and I decided to take one last swim while
Pierre had a chance to stretch out and relax on the beach after a good deal of
stressful driving on winding roads where we lost our way.
The cliffs here were a blazing shade of
ochre, accentuated by the rays of the setting sun, capped by a grove of
fragrant pines, and skirted by a row of old fishing shacks.
It was while swimming here in the declining
light of early evening that I finally tempted fate, where jellyfish are
concerned.
I suddenly felt a sharp and
inexplicable stinging sensation on my right shin, and as I could see nothing in
the darkening water, I swam directly to shore.
Once out of the water, the stinging began to diminish, and I saw only a
small area of red rash.
I was lucky, as
apparently I had only brushed against the jellyfish and my sting was
minimal.
Within an hour I felt nothing
at all, but the red marks are still just visible on my leg as I write this, now
more than 10 days later.
 |
| Sunset at Cala Salada near Sant Antoni |
As the sun was setting, we headed back to Eivissa, actually
getting stuck in a bit of island rush-hour traffic.
Pierre is an excellent and patient driver,
but at this point, he was wistfully imagining being on his moto so that he
could dart in and out of the stagnant traffic.
We took a break at my place to eat some takeout pizza, and rest a bit
before a late evening out.
Sophia and
Pierre had invited me to experience one of Ibiza’s famous clubs, and Pierre’s
Italian boss at The Hard Rock Café, Vittorio, had put us on ‘the list’ for that
night at Amnesia, where DJ Loco
Dice was
celebrating his birthday.
Joining us was
a friend of Pierre’s from Barcelona with his girlfriend.
Entrance to these clubs is expensive, often
costing around 40 euros per person.
Because we had been put on the guest list, entrance was 25 euros, but
all drinks were extra, and prices at the bar were exorbitant.
I paid 13 euros for tonic water and a coca
cola!
Never mind, I was here for the fun
and a bit of an anthropological study to see how the human species behaves in
this unique environment… :-)
Just getting in the door was part of my learning
experience.
A man was parting the crowd
into two groups by repeatedly asking ‘Lista?’
This threw me at first, since
listo/lista
means
ready in Spanish.
He is asking if we are ready to go in? I
wondered to myself. However, since he was asking males in the same way, I
quickly realized that he was determining who claimed to be on the guest list. No
one had told me that I needed to bring an id (I had left as much at home as
possible for this outing…), and I guess at age 53, I hardly expected anyone to
ask me for one. Nevertheless, since we were ‘on the list,’ we were supposed to
confirm our identity to get in.
Fortunately, the guy checking names took me at my word.
 |
| entrance to Amnesia |
 |
| Amnesia 2015's robotic go-go girls |
 |
| taking it all in.... |
The music was
extremely loud, so I had to get used to that, but once I did, and got over the
fact that I couldn’t hear anything anyone said when they spoke to me, I enjoyed
myself. Though I am not a techno fan, I appreciated Pierre’s explanation when I
asked about the difference between techno and deep house, and I got into it
enough to dance. While dancing with
Sophia, we were approached by an attractive Spanish girl who said something
that, of course, I couldn’t hear. Sophia
told me later outside that she had offered us ‘una pastilla’! Did I look like the type? :-) Sophia noted that males far outnumbered
females that evening, though I saw plenty of young women primping in front of
the mirrors in the restroom. (Maybe that’s where they all were? :-)
Dancing on stage in Amnesia was a group of robot-like go-go
dancers all wearing the same smart blonde wigs, and each doing her own moves,
but all creating a harmonious aura of
sexy aliens. They were quite mesmerizing to watch. My club night on Ibiza ended at 5:00 am when
my head hit the pillow back in my room…..another night to remember.
Thursday, August
13 Platges de Comte and Es
Vedrà
This was to be my last full day and night in Ibiza!
Despite our late night on Wednesday, we got
up at a reasonable hour to make use of our second day with the car.
We drove due west to the Platges de Comte, and
though it was crowded, the view and the sea did not disappoint.
After a swim in the waves, I fell asleep with
my book in my hands, while Pierre and Sophia played in the wonderful waves that
rolled in endlessly.
Eventually, the
waves called me back out too, and some were large enough to crash right over my
head, and drag me onto the beach.
Pierre, a surfer, was like a delighted boy, and played for several hours,
using our Frisbee as a makeshift surfing tool.
 |
Platges de Comte |
As the sun began its slow descent, we packed up and moved just
south along the coast, searching for the dirt track that lead to an ideal
viewing point of the sunset behind Es Vedrà, an uninhabited island with a
dramatic rocky backbone outline. Something about this scene reminded me of the
cover illustration of Hergé’s Tin Tin and “The Black Island” although its
setting is Scotland, a far distant land from Ibiza. We parked next to a hippy
caravan, then hiked on a dirt path along a ridge until we came to a rock
outcropping just opposite the mysterious island, that appeared all the more
mystical at this hour, enveloped in a soft, ethereal light, and crowned by a
smoke-like cloud that parted at the island’s peak as though it were a volcanic
gas.
The sun spread a golden trail across
the surface of the sea, and a sailboat crossed it beneath us, shimmering in a
golden outline.
We sat transfixed on the
cliff’s edge, watching this story unfold as it has every evening since the
Earth has rotated on its axis.
It is a
very old story that has been repeated millions of times, but it never loses its
fascination. My last day in Ibiza had been crowned with a touch of magic and
wonder, and I felt deeply satisfied and happy.
 |
| sunset at Es Vedrà on the southwest coast of Ibiza |
 |
| Es Vedrà? |
 |
| sunset worshipper! |
We had dinner that evening at a trendy and cozy Italian
restaurant in the Plaza del Parque (Plaça del Parc) called Locals Only.
Despite the name, it is frequented by many
visitors, and we sat on the terrace in the plaza, just behind the stalls where
artists were selling their work, and I had bought a lovely gold necklace and
earrings for Sophia, simple and elegant, shaped like an olive leaf. We were all
very tired, but pleased after such a perfect day of sun, waves and spectacular
views.
 |
| 'the last supper' at Locals Only |
Friday, August 14 Dalt
Vila
All good things eventually come to an end, including
fantastic vacations.
I guess that is
part of what makes them so memorable.
They could not go on forever or we might get bored…(Really?! I am not
sure I am convinced by my own words…..) At any rate, we would eventually run
out of funds! I spent part of the morning packing so that I could move my
suitcase out into the living room, as Ana Lucia had new guests arriving, and
needed to get the room ready.
My flight
was scheduled for late afternoon, so I still had time to go into the center and
walk through Dalt Vila by day to take some photos of its architectural charm. Sophia
joined me, and we had a brunch of carrot cake and fresh-squeezed orange juice, and
then hiked up the cobbled street through the old city wall, taking photos as we
went.
At one point, we took a shortcut
(un atajo) up a stone flight of stairs, drawn by the hint of a garden concealed
behind a high wall.
We passed silently
in front of an open doorway that revealed a man working at his computer in a
lovely courtyard garden, and just down the quiet little street, we found a
majestic villa, badly in need of renovation, with an appealing for sale sign
posted on its doorway.
We peered in
through an open window and I snapped a photo.
What a dream it would be to fix up such a place!
I had begun this trip with little preparation and no
expectations….I just wanted to spend some time with Sophia and Pierre and feel
some warm sun on my skin……wow!
I came
away with all that and so much more!
 |
| Still dreaming of Ibiza..... |
