NOT ALL THOSE WHO WANDER ARE LOST - J TOLKEN
"Room With A View" Photo Taken - Cote d Azur , France
NOT ALL THOSE WHO WANDER ARE LOST - J TOLKEN
"Room With A View" Photo Taken - Cote d Azur , France
Passing billboards screaming out the names PACHA, EDEN, SPACE I was sensing I could be arriving into a big city not a beach island. I was perplexed as to what adventure the next 4 days on the sun-drenched Spanish island of Ibiza was going to entail? Travelling solo and looking forward to chilling out whilst soaking up some sunshine I was also curious as to what the island had to offer in terms of exploration and entertainment knowing the world’s best DJ’s reside here over Europe’s summer months.
Whilst unlocking the lose door knob of my devious low budget hotel room I was approached by an Irish lass residing in the neighbouring room asking me for directions on how to exit the hotel? She had obviously no sense of direction or possibly short-term memory or perhaps too much Guinness so I escorted her back down the 3 flights of stairs-past the swimming pool and into the hotel lounge area. “Tanks my name is Mary D” she said in her strong northern Irish accent inviting me along for a drink with her partner in crime Fiona who apparently had worked on the Island for the past six seasons.
Taking up the offer I had limited time to settle into my accommodation compose a quick clothes change before heading out to explore the island’s nightlife. Meeting up with my new found Irish friends who were all blinged up and some random 40 year old English guy called David who they had met in the hotel bar, we headed along the boulevard towards the West End. I had flash backs of viewing the late 90’s TV show “Ibiza uncovered” was I about to see it at face value? In reality it was a more sedate scene than what I remembered from the program. Fiona informed me over a few free drinks from her local bartending friends ( given Ibiza’s expensive food and drinks prices my wallet was very grateful) the crowds had diminished due to the summer season coming to an end and that San Antonio’s trashy reputation had cleaned itself up over the years, still it had a certain buzz about it.
Realising there was no easing into the nightlife in Ibiza whilst strolling back to my hotel having lost the Irish girls to too much Guinness and scoffing down a burger and fries from Burger King (yes it was one of those late night only option desperate fast-food scenarios) I was persuaded by dodgy Dave to stop off at a nightclub called “Eden” conveniently located next to where I was staying. From the outside it looked more like part of the amusement park next door than a dance venue though the blackboard list of in-house DJ”s leaning up against the sparkling entrance doorway confirmed this was a fun park of the dancing kind. Inside this circular smallish club where you stepped down into the sunken dance floor it had a typical 90’s feel about it and the old school house tunes followed the theme however a remixed dance version of Temper traps “Sweet Disposition” soon had me grooving on the dance floor until the wee hours…
Oversleeping and getting into the Ibiza spirit I missed the morning fast ferry to the neighbouring island of Formentra (which I was told is stunning and a great day trip) so I decided to put on my beach attire and go search my local surroundings by daylight. Taking a leisurely walk along the harbour foreshore inhaling the summer sea breeze aah whilst admiring the waterfront boats floating along freely I decided this was going to be a day for casual exploring and an afternoon of lazy pool lounging….
Another night of shaking that arse was on the agenda even though I was looking for a quiet night in “No such thing in Ibiza” was what I was firmly told by my mad Irish acquaintances before being dragged out for more moving and grooving. First stop a bar set back from the beach called Linekers - owned by a famous English footballer apparently.
Sensing I was 10 years older than most patrons I soaked up the entertaining atmosphere chatting away to young party goers (mostly geezers in their white trainers and funky tee-shirts) before it was time to jump in a taxi bound for the nightclub SPACE. This ride was the express highway journey to club land Grand Prix style! The Spanish taxi driver was blaring out the local Ibiza global radio station 97.6FM whilst exceeding the speed limit and driving over roundabouts.
Arriving safe and sound it was time to exit our raving taxi ride and enter the massive white looking warehouse venue, it felt slightly formal more like entering a school assembly hall rather than a nightclub. This was no school hall the décor was impressive ranging from funky low lying lamps and sheik furniture in one room to different level podiums, underground smoke machines and cage like DJ booths in another. Navigating my way around this scene whilst sipping on my 15euro vodka, lime and soda (I felt paying this was justified considering I had free entry into the venue another freebie thanks Fiona) taking in the vibrant energies and listening to some of the world’s best DJ’s it was time to polish off my drink and get amongst it on the dance floor.
Throwing my arms in the air and being entranced by DJ’s Nick Curly, Seth Troxler, Edu Imbernon, Radio Slave etc little did I know we were standing right on the gushing underground smoke machine, this added to the atmosphere that’s for sure. After spending a few hours getting down in boogie town it had all got to much for Mary D who was suffering bloody blisters from her high heels, this had us calling it a night well more like morning so exit time it was jumping into a more chilled taxi ride back to our accommodation.
Feeling slightly hazy the next morning I decided to check out the chilled beach scene nicely discovering a little coastal walk along a pristine turquoise beach area supporting cool shoreline café’s such as Cafe Mambo and the well known Café Del Mar. Continuing in the direction for the crystal clear beach water in the distance upon arrival I plonked myself on a blue and white stripped beach lounger - this was the chill beach time I had been hanging for especially coming from a Melbourne winter. Overhearing other beach goers conversations I tuned into one where a young female was telling her friends that she randomly meet Dizzie Racal the previous night. Apparently she was drinking champagne with him and was offered an invitation to hang out for the evening which she declined.
Secretly I wished it was me who had been invited as listening to his song “Holiday” several times in the weeks leading up to my visit had prompted me to come here to Ibiza given I had been to Milan, South of France other places also mentioned in his song. Then my eve’s dropping was interrupted by a beach guard telling me I had to pay for the lounger, forgetting this European levy which I kindly refused to pay I rolled onto the sand and passed out for a wee disco nap before taking a swim to revive myself for the afternoon.
Feeling more alive and refreshed I wandered back along the shoreline checking out the suave beach club style spots this time stopping in for a bite to eat at Café Mambo. Sitting down for a few hours absorbing the sun, funky tunes watching the island go by it was a good to time to pull out my iphone and take advantage of the free Wi-Fi planning my next adventures to Madrid and Morocco. I enjoyed the tranquilness of it so much I went back at dusk this time to Café Del Mel the crowds had decided to come out of the woodwork for a view too. Perching myself up at the outside bar sipping on a Vino Blanco the crowds soon became invisible to my eyes which were seduced by two parasailing guys floating past on a parachute that was sinking into the dusty pink/red sunset all in time with the Café Del Mar tunes…
Then the fluro dancing girls came out and the music went up a tempo, nightlife was on the horizon yet again. Running into my Irish friends nearby we ended up in a tiny bar sipping on more free cocktails watching and listening to a local mix up his tunes on the decks. Being in a more chilled mood I opted for a chair dancing night sitting at the bar not having to move to far.
Day 4 my last day in Ibiza I decided to kill my curiosity and have a wee day trip to see what happens on the other side of the isle, so I jumped on a local bus to visit Eivissa Ibiza old town. Driving across the baron highways there wasn’t too much to see in terms of scenery on this 45 minute journey. Getting off the bus and walking down the main street in the old town soaking up the sweltering Spanish heat there was more of a working, port life style here than the lazy hazy beach feel.
I navigated my way down the streets past shops, buildings, and the harbour to the older part of town where I found myself meandering through the castle like brick walls up to the town’s lookout. Looking out over the glistering Mediterranean Sea at the small acid washed Spanish villas eating a chocolate croissant and washing it back with a bottle of aqua I was sensing a more mature feel to this side of the island. Though reflecting on my previous 3 days of the island life I had come to the conclusion that there is an overall energy on Ibiza that of a buzzing, free spiritedness kind...
After taking some photo’s of my time in Eivissa I eventually made my way back across the island to pack my bag hoping to catch my Irish neighbours to say goodbye before checking out. Alas I couldn’t locate them in time for my taxi pick up which I managed to organize with 3 other randoms I meet at the hotel poolside who were also heading to the airport. So I slipped a note under their hotel room door “Adios Amigos tanks for a fun few days in Ibiza email me the evidence”.