I didn't get home until 5 this morning, but I'd feel so judged by Pepita if I slept in. I make myself get up at 10 and I get in the shower. It's the first time I haven't worn flip-flops in the shower since Ireland. It's really nice. I liberally apply sunscreen, then I pack a bag with stuff I'll want on the beach today and head out. On the way to the boat that will take me 30 minutes south to the Island of Formetera, I stop in a store and buy 3 liters of water, a breakfast bun, and a wrap for lunch. Afterwards, I walk down to Plaja Fugueretas. I got on the boat at 11:10, and off we went.
I decided to sit up on the top deck to soak up the sun and enjoy the trip. A couple announcements are made on the PA system: trip duration, where we'll make port, and where you can catch a bus to the beach. Then they play music over the PA. Not the kind you'd hear on a bus or ferry in America, but the kind you'd hear in Ibiza. Everyone on the boat is loving it.
I certainly am.
It feels like we're in the Caribbean as we sail on. We pass islands, white sand beaches, and bright blue shores. This is the Mediterranean. It's beautiful.
We make port in Formentera and I head straight off the boat towards a scooter rental.
I'm gonna get me a scooter.
I rent one at a slight discount, and after leaving a €10 deposit, I rip off down the street. I have absolutely no idea where I'm going, but I don't care.
I'm on an island. How hard can it be to find a beach?
I weave around island roads and eventually pass a gate and a monster line of people on scooters waiting in line on the shoulder of the road. I flip around and get in the back of the line. I figure it must be a beach. I ask the guy walking up and down the line of scooters if we need to pay to enter.
"Sí, necessitas pagar."
It's €4. There's probably other beaches that are free on the island, but I don't really care. There must be a reason it costs €4. After waiting a half hour I discover there is a reason. A very good one. It's the most incredible beach I've ever seen. A vivid, deep blue turns sharply into an aqua that greets a white beach. Scattered every few hundred yards there are colorful rocks that butt out into the water. Waves spray over them and throw a white wall of water into the air. It's a perfect backdrop to the most incredible photograph. Eventually I take my eyes off the natural beauty that is the beach and look for a spot to lay down for the day. On my search I take it all in: the water is a color I didn't know existed, one in three women don't wear a top (one in 50 is completely nude), and the men wear bañadores that rarely make it halfway down the thigh.
I came prepared.
Since I hadn't packed swim trunks in my backpack, yesterday I bough a pink and blue bañador that fits right in. No one pays me any attention when I lie down on towel in the sand. They're too busy being naked.
After a half hour I go for a swim. The water's warm yet refreshing, and the waves are the perfect size for bodysurfing. I spend what must have been an hour floating around and catching waves into shore before heading back in. After a reapplied coat of sunscreen, I decide I'm going to fry if I don't find shelter from the sun. I pack up and move under an umbrella where I gladly pay €6 when a man comes over to collect. I'm so content that I siesta.
I wake up red. Very red. The umbrella didn't protect against burns whatsoever. But there's no time to dwell on that. It's too nice out and there's more fun to be had. I dive in the ocean and ride a few more waves in to shore. Three hours left before the last boat leaves for Ibiza. I had originally planned to leave the beach with three hours to spare so that I can explore the island.
That can wait 30 minutes.
Eventually I drag myself off the beach and head back to my scooter. Time to ride around. I find a nice two-lane road that follows the coastline and motor down it for miles. I stop at beach after beach to admire the bright blue waters and the bleached-white buildings that sit back from them. Amazing.
Farther down the road a hill creeps up. The road starts winding. The views are grand. Looking back on where I'd came, I see a small strip of land with blue beaches on either side, leading into a larger body of land. I continue on, and when I continue on into a small town I run into a police roadblock. They wave everyone right. There's nothing there but a dead end and a parking lot. And a tiny alley between buildings just small enough for a scooter. My scooter.
They didn't say not to go around..
I find my way through houses and shops and back on to the main road. It's a successful evasion that pays dividends. There's a lighthouse ahead that sits high upon rocky cliffs. It's a long way down.
Back on the scooter.
I motor back down the road, through the roadblock, down the winding hill, and back down the small strip of land. When I reach the larger part of the island I turn left and head south. This time it's one-lane roads and dry plots of land separated by rock walls. Lots of agave and prickly pears.
I finally reach the end of the road and another lighthouse perched upon a cliff. There's a hole in the ground nearby with a makeshift ladder heading down into it.
Why not.
I clamber down into the hole and find that it drops into a hole that leads out to the cliff. I'm in a cave that's halfway up a massive cliff. It's way too cool, but I can't stay forever since I need to be back at the port in a half hour. I made it in time and eventually stumbled back into Pepita's apartment. She can't believe how red I am. Neither can I.
Oh well.
After showering I come back out to ask Pepita where a cheap place to eat would be before heading to bed. I don't want to have another crazy night. I need sleep, and Ibiza has been expensive. She recommends a Chinese place around the corner since most other places are closed.
On a Wednesday?
"Sí. El 8 de Augosto es el día más importante de Ibiza."
It's basically their Fourth of July.
So I now have yet another unexpected party awaiting me. Fireworks included, and they don't even start 'til midnight. So with that plan in mind, I went and ate at the Chinese restaurant she had recommended. The food was amazing. So was the staff. A middle aged Asian woman, who I assumed to be the owner, was very excited to hear all about my travels. She couldn't believe that I was leaving Ibiza without hiking up to a vantage point where I can see the whole city. She says the beaches are beautiful, the parties are great, but this is something special. I tell her I'd see it. So after paying for the meal I headed off to find the spot she described.
Through the streets, around the port, up the stairs, and eventually I see people standing behind an old castle wall high above the city. I keep walking and I find myself grateful that she told me about this place. Not only can I see the city, I also have a perfect view of the port where the fireworks will be.
When midnight comes around the fireworks begin. From where we're standing we have an amazing view. And that sound. Each firework resonates off the buildings below and echoes back to us. After the firework show I head back to the house. I get down to the port and turn left to head home, when all of a sudden my body begins pulsing from the massive bass of the electronic music that just started playing.
There's no ignoring this. I'd better go check it out.
I turn around and I see about a hundred yards away a stage has been erected in the port. Ibiza brought a discotecha outside. It's a massive music festival with a DJ accompanied by live vocals. It's just started. And it's 1am.
Ibiza
I stay for a while before eventually walking home. Only after a mile does the music finally fade out.
I decided to sit up on the top deck to soak up the sun and enjoy the trip. A couple announcements are made on the PA system: trip duration, where we'll make port, and where you can catch a bus to the beach. Then they play music over the PA. Not the kind you'd hear on a bus or ferry in America, but the kind you'd hear in Ibiza. Everyone on the boat is loving it.
I certainly am.
It feels like we're in the Caribbean as we sail on. We pass islands, white sand beaches, and bright blue shores. This is the Mediterranean. It's beautiful.
We make port in Formentera and I head straight off the boat towards a scooter rental.
I'm gonna get me a scooter.
I rent one at a slight discount, and after leaving a €10 deposit, I rip off down the street. I have absolutely no idea where I'm going, but I don't care.
I'm on an island. How hard can it be to find a beach?
I weave around island roads and eventually pass a gate and a monster line of people on scooters waiting in line on the shoulder of the road. I flip around and get in the back of the line. I figure it must be a beach. I ask the guy walking up and down the line of scooters if we need to pay to enter.
"Sí, necessitas pagar."
It's €4. There's probably other beaches that are free on the island, but I don't really care. There must be a reason it costs €4. After waiting a half hour I discover there is a reason. A very good one. It's the most incredible beach I've ever seen. A vivid, deep blue turns sharply into an aqua that greets a white beach. Scattered every few hundred yards there are colorful rocks that butt out into the water. Waves spray over them and throw a white wall of water into the air. It's a perfect backdrop to the most incredible photograph. Eventually I take my eyes off the natural beauty that is the beach and look for a spot to lay down for the day. On my search I take it all in: the water is a color I didn't know existed, one in three women don't wear a top (one in 50 is completely nude), and the men wear bañadores that rarely make it halfway down the thigh. I came prepared.
Since I hadn't packed swim trunks in my backpack, yesterday I bough a pink and blue bañador that fits right in. No one pays me any attention when I lie down on towel in the sand. They're too busy being naked.
After a half hour I go for a swim. The water's warm yet refreshing, and the waves are the perfect size for bodysurfing. I spend what must have been an hour floating around and catching waves into shore before heading back in. After a reapplied coat of sunscreen, I decide I'm going to fry if I don't find shelter from the sun. I pack up and move under an umbrella where I gladly pay €6 when a man comes over to collect. I'm so content that I siesta.
I wake up red. Very red. The umbrella didn't protect against burns whatsoever. But there's no time to dwell on that. It's too nice out and there's more fun to be had. I dive in the ocean and ride a few more waves in to shore. Three hours left before the last boat leaves for Ibiza. I had originally planned to leave the beach with three hours to spare so that I can explore the island.
That can wait 30 minutes.
Eventually I drag myself off the beach and head back to my scooter. Time to ride around. I find a nice two-lane road that follows the coastline and motor down it for miles. I stop at beach after beach to admire the bright blue waters and the bleached-white buildings that sit back from them. Amazing.
Farther down the road a hill creeps up. The road starts winding. The views are grand. Looking back on where I'd came, I see a small strip of land with blue beaches on either side, leading into a larger body of land. I continue on, and when I continue on into a small town I run into a police roadblock. They wave everyone right. There's nothing there but a dead end and a parking lot. And a tiny alley between buildings just small enough for a scooter. My scooter.
They didn't say not to go around..
I find my way through houses and shops and back on to the main road. It's a successful evasion that pays dividends. There's a lighthouse ahead that sits high upon rocky cliffs. It's a long way down.
Back on the scooter.
I motor back down the road, through the roadblock, down the winding hill, and back down the small strip of land. When I reach the larger part of the island I turn left and head south. This time it's one-lane roads and dry plots of land separated by rock walls. Lots of agave and prickly pears. I finally reach the end of the road and another lighthouse perched upon a cliff. There's a hole in the ground nearby with a makeshift ladder heading down into it.
Why not.
I clamber down into the hole and find that it drops into a hole that leads out to the cliff. I'm in a cave that's halfway up a massive cliff. It's way too cool, but I can't stay forever since I need to be back at the port in a half hour. I made it in time and eventually stumbled back into Pepita's apartment. She can't believe how red I am. Neither can I.
Oh well.
After showering I come back out to ask Pepita where a cheap place to eat would be before heading to bed. I don't want to have another crazy night. I need sleep, and Ibiza has been expensive. She recommends a Chinese place around the corner since most other places are closed.
On a Wednesday?
"Sí. El 8 de Augosto es el día más importante de Ibiza."
It's basically their Fourth of July.
So I now have yet another unexpected party awaiting me. Fireworks included, and they don't even start 'til midnight. So with that plan in mind, I went and ate at the Chinese restaurant she had recommended. The food was amazing. So was the staff. A middle aged Asian woman, who I assumed to be the owner, was very excited to hear all about my travels. She couldn't believe that I was leaving Ibiza without hiking up to a vantage point where I can see the whole city. She says the beaches are beautiful, the parties are great, but this is something special. I tell her I'd see it. So after paying for the meal I headed off to find the spot she described.
Through the streets, around the port, up the stairs, and eventually I see people standing behind an old castle wall high above the city. I keep walking and I find myself grateful that she told me about this place. Not only can I see the city, I also have a perfect view of the port where the fireworks will be.
When midnight comes around the fireworks begin. From where we're standing we have an amazing view. And that sound. Each firework resonates off the buildings below and echoes back to us. After the firework show I head back to the house. I get down to the port and turn left to head home, when all of a sudden my body begins pulsing from the massive bass of the electronic music that just started playing.
There's no ignoring this. I'd better go check it out.
I turn around and I see about a hundred yards away a stage has been erected in the port. Ibiza brought a discotecha outside. It's a massive music festival with a DJ accompanied by live vocals. It's just started. And it's 1am.
Ibiza
I stay for a while before eventually walking home. Only after a mile does the music finally fade out.
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