Spring Break is heeeeeeere.
Who am I kidding? This is Spain, and it´s called ¨Semana Santa¨, but it´s a break nonetheless.
Last Thursday was my last day of work before the break. The following day, I woke up a few minutes before 4AM and took a flight to Ibiza, as if I couldn´t get away fast enough.
It was my first time travelling with a friend. I usually prefer going solo but I could not ask for a better travelling partner/classmate. I have been hanging out with her a lot and look up to her like an older sister.
Still with a flu and all, I met up with my friend on Gran Vía to walk to Cibeles and catch the bus to the airport together. There was no traffic and we got to Terminal 1 in no time. We directly went to the security, given that we already printed our boarding pass with Ryannair. Passing through the security was quick and painless enough, except for the fact that the staff made me throw my 16-euro facial wash away. I guess he couldn´t read Korean…(neither can I, but damn, that was the best facial wash he threw away. But it´s ok, I´ll buy a new one, a better one.)
We got to the gate with so much time to spare. An hour or so later, people started forming a line, so we joined them… The gates were so close together and I started to expect that we were in the wrong line. Sure enough, that line was for the people going to Italy. Why they would put international and national flights in the same terminal, I´ll never know.
Long story short, we got to Ibiza in less than an hour (much less than my daily commute to and from school). It was a cloudy Friday. We had an ¨Americano¨ brunch at the Cafe del Mar next to the port before catching the bus to Sant Antoni de Portmany.
Sant Antoni is known to be popular among foreign tourists. In other words, everything I hate. But when we were there, it was off-season, meaning that almost everything was closed and we were the only tourists. After checking in, we went to the Tourist Information Center and got a map along with a few recommendations, one of which was Port des Torrent. There, we had lunch on a restaurant on the beach, whose cala became my most favorite from the trip… I would post a picture but it still wouldn´t do it any justice.
Later, we came back to Sant Antoni and had a long, long walk around the city and finally along the promenade. It was dark, windy, and cold, but nonetheless beautiful. The only people who crossed our path were two jogging young men that I should have stopped. Oh well. I´ll live.
The next morning, we came back to Ibiza. We had a couple of hours to kill because the check-in time wasn´t until 3 pm. While my friend was looking up things to do on her phone, I came downstairs and simply looked around and found that the beach was only one minute away. It was warm and sunny, so I took off my leggings and jacket. Everything felt better when you´re wearing only your favorite jumpsuit. We had another fantastic lunch on Platja de ses Figueretes in a true Spanish fashion: outside and no hurry. I took a short walk in the water until I noticed some jellyfish, but it was enjoyable regardless. Later, we went up the hill to the Castillo in the Dalt Vila, where all the good things are. We even met a cat that was following us around for a good while.
Later on, we walked down to the lighthouse and spent a good half an hour just talking and admiring Ibiza´s beauty in the dark.
At nine, we had yet another amazing meal, this time at an Italian restaurant called Peter Pan. The entree was consisted of a tapas with grilled squid and grilled sardines, followed by the main course of a well-prepared pasta. Highly, highly recommended.
Day 3 was dedicated to the dead Formentera. We went to the marina at 10 to buy tickets for the boat trip and the island excursion. The trip, although advertized to last only 30 minutes, actually took about 50 minutes. When we got to the island, we found out that no buses run on Saturday afternoons and Sunday, so we were lucky that we decided to do the excursion instead.
While a few stores were still opened in Sant Antoni, Formentera was even more quiet. The whole town was in a deep slumber, waiting for summer. After having lunch, we joined a group of the elderly for the panoramic tour of the tiny island. At one point, the bus stopped to so that they can take a look at some trees. Yaaaawn. Finally, they dropped us off at the Es Pujols beach. For the third time, I took a walk in the water despite the fact that it was really, really cold. It was refreshing and I needed it. Ironically, the highlight of this little excursion was the boat ride back. (Photos to be uploaded).
That evening, we came back to the cafe by the port and I begged them to turn on MotoGP. I might have been on a vacation but there was no way in hell that I was going to miss the first race of the year. After some hesitation, the waiter changed channel showing Valencia vs. Celta game to MotoGP. I had a beer, got drunk, threw up, and went back to the place at 10 on a taxi. The next morning, I was back to normal and back in Madrid.
That is all, folks. Until next time.