Emma, Lucy and I left the pouring rain and of cold Devon behind us, and set off into the sun (literally.) We arrived in Ibiza in the blazing heat and were flocked onto a coach. After a couple of stops, our rep (we travelled with Thomson) deserted us and said with a smile “so, the driver will tell you where to go when you stop.” We flashed a smile back and nodded. Soon enough the coach came to a stop in the middle of a dirt road, on one side a wild Spanish forest, and on the other, a few uninhabited buildings amongst some inhabited apartments. The driver gave us some vague directions in Spanish, and two streets on, we were hopelessly lost.
We used our limited AMAZING Spanish to ask a local if she knew which direction we were meant to go in. She’d never heard of the hotel. Great start. I left my suitcase with the girls, and headed off down a not-very-promising road to see if I could find some help. I didn’t.
As I headed back to join the other two, I noticed they had some company in the male format. FINALLY some help. Turns out he was a drunken homeless man from Britain and didn’t have a clue what day it was, let alone what street he was on. Maybe not so helpful.
We carried on walking. By this point, our hair was sticking to our faces and the backs of our necks and our clothes were wet through. Safe to say I think we’ve all seen better days. Third time lucky? We rounded the corner and came across a slightly large, balding Canadian guy so asked him. He said “Hold on a sec guys” and then turned towards the building he had just exited said “Honey, can you come out here for a second?” An extremely slim woman wearing nothing but a black thong and a see-through ‘Ibiza’ top came prancing down the steps, smiled and said “what’s up?” The couple gave us directions and ten minutes later we arrived at the hotel, changed into our bikinis and headed straight for the pool.
We didn’t have champagne glasses, so we had to make do with cups which just happen to hold more champagne. Shame really.
Champagne does this to your face:
After the champagne took its toll…
…we decided it would be a good idea to fill our stomachs. We went on the hunt for Tapas. Things get serious when Tapas is involved, people may get hurt if they stand in our way…
We had been recommended a Tapas restaurant by our rep ‘Luton’ and after (again) asking people for directions, we eventually found it, down a dirt track away from the lights and noise of the Ibiza clubs. It was heaven. If you’re thinking about heading to Ibiza, definitely go eat at Tapas Ibiza.
We ordered as much as we could, which happened to be a lot of the menu.
Melted brie covered in bread crumbs and served with red onion chutney
Summer Italian pasta
Creamy mushroom and chicken
Roasted pork belly with crackling
On our way home we made a cheeky pit-stop at Es Paradis, the most incredibly decorated club I have ever set foot in.
As people started to flock to the clubs at about 3am, we decided to call it a night. We’d had enough excitement for one day so nestled down and went to sleep, keen to see what Ibiza would have in store for us tomorrow.