We have finally reached the end of our week long vacation to Ibiza. The final day (including the trip back, and the night in London) turned out to be the perfect gradual reintroduction to Lille. To go from a place as warm, relaxing and enjoyable as Ibiza right back to Lille would have been a major shock to our systems, and could have left us longing for days past. Our night in London made sure we would see Lille in a whole different (incredibly welcoming) light. Even though at the time the forthcoming events were more traumatic than humorous we were well aware that sometime in the near future we would look back and laugh. But I’m getting ahead of myself. The day started out great (well aside from Kathryn hurting more than ever from her flu symptoms).
After we returned the rent-a-car to the dealer we packed everything up which only took about five to ten minutes (in an effort to avoid baggage fees that cost 4x as much as our flight we stuck with carry-on sized bags). We asked the lady at the front desk which direction to take to get to the bus station and then we were out the door. In her broken English the woman made it seem like the station was miles away on the edge of town, but by following signs we found it in no time. The bus was an amazing alternative to taking a taxi (2euros compared to 30), and proved just as quick and reliable. In about 30min we were off and wandering around Eivissa, the largest city on the island.
It turned out to be a smart choice saving this city for our final day. It had much more of an inner-city feel. The buildings were taller than anywhere else, and the streets were surprisingly crowded with bustling pedestrians. Being the gentleman that I am (and due to Kathryn’s illness) I shouldered the load of our bags as we traipsed around the city. First up on our list of things to do was check out the overwhelmingly large castle-type structure that we had spotted as we initially flew onto the island. This task was easily accomplished since the fortress (Dalt Vila) towered over the city. It could easily be spotted once we made it to a clearing not totally surrounded by office and apartment buildings.
Apparently the name simply means something like “Upper Town” or “High Town” and that is exactly what it is. The town is surrounded by enormous stone walls and is built at the highest point of the area with the back protected by a massive cliff face. From the top it offers unbelievable views of both the city itself and the harbor and sea that it defended. Once we entered through a gate we began hiking along the top of the outter wall that rose at a relatively steep angle (this made ever more difficult by the 30+lbs of awkwardly slung backpack and computer bag I had over my shoulders). We climbed up as high as possible before our path was impeded by scaffolding and a crane. As beautiful as most ancient European structures can be it takes a keen historical imagination to picture them removed from the renovation work that normally obstructs a significant portion of their exteriors.
The town was built as a series of successive levels culminating with a massive church at the very top. We spent the next hour or so weaving our way along the narrow streets between homes and shops that seemed as lively as…well a town not enclosed in a medieval fortress. Every now and then either through a door left ajar, or looking down at a lower level we could see many buildings opened up to magnificent courtyards and interior plazas. Another great aspect was thanks to being a national monument every couple hundred yards or so the city had placed plaques with historical information about everything from construction and empirical occupation to significance of individual buildings and churches. We easily could have spent hours searching around the town and visiting the sites and museums. Unfortunately our vacation was running out of time, and we decided it would be best to eat a big lunch before heading to the airport incase (foreshadowing) it was our last opportunity to have a decent comfortable meal.
Lunch was once again delicious. We found a little Mom-and-Pop restaurant whose dining area looked similar to how I’d imagine an old Spanish grandmother’s sitting/sewing room. The server was very nice and helpful using the bit of English that he spoke, the food was homemade, the sea bass fresh, and the beer cold. After lunch we parked ourselves in the sun on the terrace of a little café down the street from the restaurant to enjoy a cappuccino before catching our bus to the airport.
To this point everything was going quite smooth. The buses were quick, efficient and cheap, and I even made it through security without losing the bottle of shampoo we bought that was stuffed in my bag.
A cause de the cheap price of our plane tickets we had no control over the hours of their arrivals and departures, and the only flight back landed us in London at about 11:20pm. This proved to be a problem for the simple fact that Eurostar’s last train to Lille left sometime around 10pm. In anticipation of this prolonged layover Kathryn had contacted her friend’s older sister who is studying in London to see if we could possibly pass the short couple of hours at her place before our train departed the following morning. I know it’s hard to tell from all the fun adventures we are having here, but as English assistants’ salary-wise we are living slightly below the poverty line to the tune of 792euros per month. This coupled with the extravagant prices for hotels in London drove us to the request, and it was graciously accepted.
While at the airport Kathryn phoned her friend to confirm what time we would be arriving, and to once again double check everything would be OK. She informed us that she had arranged to stay at a friend’s flat that evening so we could have her room and more than just a floor to sleep on. She also gave us the number of her roommate and instructed us to give a call when we got there and he would let us in. Sounded great.
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