Oi! We’re going to Ibiza!

This edition of the Ellis Blog is kindly donated by our guest reporters, Ginny and Pete.  All the opinions expressed in this edition are theirs, and theirs alone, and no responsibility is accepted by us!

As Ryanair flight FR2486 came into land at Ibiza airport there was applause before the wheels had touched the ground from all but the oldest in the plane (us) which was then accompanied by the Ryanair fanfare. Are we mad going to this party island or will we find another side to this isle?

We left the airport to be greeted by two lithe and tanned folk with familiar and smiling faces. Karol and Grant looked in great form. They had arrived in Ibiza a day ahead of us and had our apartment, in the party and rave centre of the Mediterranean in Santa Antoni de Portman – feeling like home already.

Our first night then, out into town and hit the clubs, well not quite, fortunately we were well ahead of party time in Ibiza so Sant Antoni was quiet by normal standards and that suited us. Food was on the menu and Karol suggested we should eat where the natives eat, a tactic the Ellis’s told us they had employed successfully since the start of their trip.

TripAdvisor had come up with “Bar Benitez ” and following a taxi journey where the taxi driver tickled himself into a fit of laughter by driving twice around a roundabout in the middle of town, Grant guided us to our destination.

Ginny and myself entered with some trepidation, the place being full of Spanish folk. A small terrace outside where people ate and smoked and inside a restaurant with a bar surrounded by locals. This was not a place we would have normally had the courage or fortitude to go in. However, in the company of our seasoned travellers we entered and moved inside out of the smoky atmosphere.

Karol translated the menu, Grant selected the wine while our host, who had a more than a likeness to “Renée Artois” brought olives and bread with a garlic dip.

Two bottles of Rioja later we asked for the bill and duly received shots of Hierbas from our host. Without a drop of alcohol having past her lips for some years now, Ginny “necked it” in one with the rest of us, and all for sixty euros . A wonderful start to our stay.

 

 

 

 

 

Friday morning after breakfast on the balcony overlooking the bay outside Sant Antoni, we headed to Eivissa old town and up onto the ramparts to enjoy panoramic views while walking its perimeter.

Pentagonal bastions projected beyond the walls to allow those defending the town to pick off foes attacking and attempting to climb the walls with minimal risk. It seems hard to imagine that it actually happened like that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lunch in a small Italian restaurant and back to the apartment for tea overlooking the bay and the threat of some sunshine to come.  Saturday we took to the sea on a boat to the island of Formentera in search of what was suggested to be the sixth best beach in the world (Playa de Ses Illetes).

It did not start quite as planned. We arrived in Eivissa port in what we thought was good time, saw a boat just about to leave and jumped on and headed to pay. Did we hear that right – 90 Euros a couple? The Yorkshire (and in Ginny’s case Lancashire) blood kicked in and we beat a hasty retreat just before the gang plank disappeared and found a smaller, slightly slower and much cheaper boat just down the quay.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Arriving on the island with no map and everyone else looking as though they knew what they were doing we took time out and stopped for a coffee. Grant has an ‘App’ for everything and it was not long before he had a route planned out to take us to the said beach, a pleasant walk for a couple of miles along a peninsular where sand dunes were being protected and reinstated naturally.

We eventually arrived at the beach which was marked by four palm trees that we had seen from the boat as we approached the island. The beach was great and we spent the afternoon there.  Is it the sixth best beach in the world? Possibly, possibly not, but all the same a great beach.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As we waited for the boat back, Grant, knowing I was itching to find the latest football score again pulled out his phone and soon had radio 5 providing the required information – Wednesday in the play offs – Can this day get any better?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Little did we know the best was yet to come. On the day of our arrival Karol and Grant had checked out a local restaurant within walking distance of our apartment, the ‘La Torre’ with great ratings on TripAdvisor, the promise of good food and a view of the forthcoming sunset as the restaurant faced westwards over the Mediterranean.

We were not disappointed, the food was excellent and the setting splendid. This has to be one our favourite restaurants anywhere.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our last full day came round quickly and after some sunshine yesterday it was disappointing that we could not see the bay from the balcony due to fog. No wait, that’s all Karol’s washing sheets, tops, knickers etc obstructing the view as they dry in the fresh air – apparently the caravan lacks a tumble dryer!

Having all squeezed in to get breakfast we headed out to explore more of the island heading to the north in search of scenery, villages and beaches and again we were not disappointed.

Steep cliffs and hidden coves form the coast line. We stopped at Port de Benirras, found the best beach and ate our picnic before Karol led an expedition along a treacherous path to the next cove. Two memorable points from this expedition were Ginny having a bit of a wobbly moment as she looked down to the clear blue waters far below and a burly Belgian gentleman befriending Grant who when asked if he would take a photo of us all said he had a big camera and pulled out a pair of binoculars!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our last night and back to see “Renée Artois” at Bar Benitez where we are again are treated to a round of Hierbas (careful Ginny, this is becoming a habit) and where apparently “Mullets” are back in fashion so no more haircuts for a while, good news for Grant as Karol has been cutting his hair with a No 12 Flymo since they left Knaresborough.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Monday morning and we are packed up and ready to go, Grant at the wheel and Karol navigating which is a wonder to behold and that is said with fondness. Never have we seen a couple complement each other so well when navigating and driving, maybe it was just that we were there and after we were dropped off at the airport all hell broke loose, but I doubt it. Karol and Grant head for the ferry and back to mainland Spain to continue their tour through Europe, we head home having been pleased to have shared in just a small part of it. Perfecto!