Winter in Ibiza - Our Final Day

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.

Winter In Ibiza - Just Winging It

First and foremost on our list of things to do was to re-rent the car for one last day. There were still a number of points around the island that we needed to visit, and accomplishing that would take wheels. After the paperwork had been updated we took off in the direction of Santa Gertrudis de Fruitera, a small village in the center of the island. It was there that we hoped to find Bar Con Costa which had been recommended to us by the bartender at our hotel. He described it as the best baguettes on the island, and seeing as we had been eating rather exquisitely the past couple days we figured a cheap sandwich lunch wouldn’t lighten the wallet much.

This day was the very first we had without sun, but even with the stratus clouds hovering overhead the weather was temperate. A sprinkling of rain fell while we drove down the winding back-roads in search of the town, but it had subsided by the time we arrived. We parked on the outskirts and walked the rest of the way in, but Santa Gurtrudis wasn’t made up of more than an old church in the main square surrounded by a few shops, restaurants and bars. We had our fingers crossed that the bar would be open because the man who told us about it warned that they were not open Tuesday’s, and even though it was Monday there was always the possibility.

Lucky enough Bar Con Costa was one of only two establishments open in the entire town. From the outside it looked cozy and inviting, and we could see a fire blazing in a fireplace just through the door. As we entered a few things became quite apparent. The first was that the interior in actuality was much larger than it appeared. There were dining areas that swept all the way though the back, up two flights of stairs, and they easily could have accommodated a hundred patrons or more. Secondly it was obvious our barman friend from Hotel Puchet had not been exaggerating when describing the specialties of the restaurant. Hanging over the bar were at least two dozen cured ham legs ready to be sliced in to baguette sandwiches.

We followed the server through the main hall up a few stairs where they had another large circular fireplace that was situated in the center of the room surrounded by tables. We took our seats against the wall looking out at the bar in an optimal place for Kathryn to warm herself without feeling any draft from the open entrance door. At the recommendation of our server we both ordered jamón ibérico baguettes which were brought out within minutes. I am at a bit of loss as how to describe the sandwiches which were simplistic yet extraordinary. A few superb slices of ham over cheese and tomato then drizzled with Spanish olive oil and toasted. I have said it before a couple of times, but always follow recommendations from locals. I have yet to eat a meal this good for such a reasonable price in Europe.

After lunch we still had half a day to kill, and so we pulled out our map and randomly chose to visit an area called Punta Grossa just north of Cala Sant Vincent. As we were winding along through the forest heading east we drove past a large butte that appeared to offer a spectacular view of both the island and the sea. There were no specific signs designating how we might be able to reach the summit, but we passed one road that was heading in that direction so we turned planning to follow it as far as it would take us. That happened to be over three quarters of the way up. The street just kept turning and winding and in almost no time we had reached the top. It was a great view, but the most intriguing part was a sign marked “ES CUIERAM 425-125 A.C./B.C.” and designated by the Consell Insular d’Eivissa i Formentera. We weren’t sure what it meant, and even though the sign said “closed on Monday’s” we decided to follow the arrow on foot. It took us to a path that ran along the side of some cliffs and eventually opened up to a labyrinth of closed off caves that had been dedicated to the Goddess Tanit dating back to the time of the Phoenicians. The carved out caves opened up a space of over 200m² and four different worship chambers. It was really interesting and a little eerie since we were all alone on the side of a cliff looking at a 2500 year old sanctuary that was covered with a number of candles and offerings left by recent visitors.

After coasting down from our impromptu archeological hike we got back on our way to Punta Grossa. The journey required a keen eye for posted signs as well as the guts to drive past a construction site where heavy machinery was being used - apparently - to tear down the side of a mountain. When we reached the vantage point we were afforded a 360° view of beaches, forest and the sea. We were perched on a 100m cliff looking down on mostly deserted land except for two extravagant mansions that were built on top of an adjacent cliff.

During our drive home we stopped in Sant Carles for a café at the only open bar in town. By the time we left it had started raining again so we decided to call it a day and return to the hotel for our daily siesta. Even though it was overcast and a little more subdued, our last full day on Ibiza couldn’t have been better. We were dreading having to leave, and returning to cold snowy Lille. One good point was that our flight home didn’t leave Ibiza until almost 10pm the next evening so we would have ample time Tuesday to explore the one city on the island we had yet to visit: Eivissa.

-Jordan and Kathryn

Winter in Ibiza - Southside Beach-Hopping

Having checked out a majority of the north the day before, Sunday we reserved for exploring what the southern half of the island had to offer. In the pre-trip research we learned the south was known for its numerous and beautiful beaches. The sun was shining and the sky was clear so we just started driving south and took the very first road towards a beach. The map we had been given was rather rudimentary and did not include precise directions to towns or beaches, rather an approximate representation of where certain towns were located. This being the case we started off sans plan, and figured we would just go with the flow. The tank of the car was full so if a road looked interesting we would follow.

As in France, most places on the island were closed (more so than usual) because it was Sunday. It seemed that gave locals more opportunities to get out and enjoy their surroundings. This was evident by many more cars on the road, and more of the beaches occupied by families spending time together having picnics or fishing. The first beach we stumbled upon, Cala Bassa, was the closest south of Sant Antoni. It was the biggest beach we had come across yet, and it was definitely a major tourist stop during the summer. The actual sand was flanked on both sides by rocky outcroppings that some local families had posted up on with their fishing poles to relax in the sun and hopefully catch some lunch. There were also several signs advertising lounge and umbrella rentals, but being the offseason the only things laid out on the sand were twigs and leaves blown over from the forested area behind the beach. The water was crystal clear, and warmer than you would expect for being the middle of winter.

The next stop on our beach tour was Cala Corral about 15-20min farther south. It was a little more secluded and really a combination of two or three different beaches separated by natural sandstone cliff walls. This gave a better feeling of isolation even though there were a few more couples here. It also provided a wind barrier so you could soak up the sun without getting chilled by gusts blowing in off the Mediterranean. There were also a few restaurant/bars built up along the edge of the beach and water, but they were totally abandoned and offered a great lookout point. We decided to return later that evening to this same beach to watch the sunset thanks to the fact that it had an unobstructed view due west of the island.

The signs we had been following all along were directing us towards Cala Tarida, and after these two slight detours we finally made it to our originally planned destination. Cala Tarida was one of the biggest beaches on the island, and this was apparent when we got a good view it from the cliffs overlooking the city. This beach was totally surrounded by hotels (both standing and under construction) and restaurants, but they were also closed for the winter. Like the rest of the island, Cala Tarida was a ghost-town that obviously exploded with visitors in the summer. Instead of hiking down to the main beach we went off the beaten path and walked along the massive cliffs that lined the bay. It gave an unbelievable panoramic view of beaches, cliffs and the sparkling sea, and eventually led us to the edge of a rather hidden cove at the bottom of a cliff about 100ft. high. With a little bit of effort and some sure footing we could have made it down to the bottom, but without being able to actually go in the water it seemed like a waste of time. So instead we found a good spot to dangle our legs over the edge and warm up on the rocks while discussing options for lunch.

The next “larger” city of Cala Vadella was a short drive away so we decided to check out the beach and town to try and find some fresh fish for lunch. The drive took us up and down the cliffs along the coast until we pulled into Cala Vadella. On our map it looked like one of the bigger towns on the southern half of the island when in reality I probably could have hit a golf ball from one side to the other clear over the entire town (and that’s taking my slice into account too). We parked the car on the side of the road (just out of the way not in a spot or anything because that’s how Europeans do it) and began walking along the beach. We weren’t expecting much based on the level of activity in the area, but there were two restaurants that had just opened up for the lunch hour; it was about 2pm. We chose the one that had seating available just off the sand, and would allow us to eat in the sun. Of course soon after we sat down the first real clouds of the trip rolled in. It was still warm and the clouds weren’t dark so there was nothing to complain about.

After our incredible meal of seafood from the day before both of us were in the mood for some more fresh fish. We asked the server what they had and he told us about three or four different fish that had just been brought in a few hours ago from local fisherman. Perfect. The only problem was that he only knew the Spanish names for the fish so we asked if there was one in particular that stood out as the best. In true European fashion he shied away from giving us a direct answer, and said it all depended on what our taste and personal preference was. We told him we love everything so he recommended one that we eventually found out was grouper. They started us out with more bread, olives and a homemade garlic butter spread that was difficult not to fill up on. Next they brought out fresh rolled sushi for an entrée as a compliment of the house. Until that point we were having a nice quiet and relaxing meal. There was only one other family at the whole restaurant with us, and they were Spanish with a new puppy that occupied most of their time.

Just before our main course was brought out, all of a sudden a British family of about fifteen or more people rolled into town. We could hear them laughing and shouting from around the corner (one thing we’ve learned from the family we’re living with is Brit’s don’t have much respect for their volume around others), and just as we had feared they flopped down at a table on the other side of the terrace. Here we are on a practically deserted island, in a town with but one road running through it, and somehow they found us. I guess it was just a taste of what the island is like in the summer when the rest of Europe (mainly England) invades.

We did our best to ignore the ruckus being made on the other side of the restaurant, and that was made much easier once our food was delivered. The fish was cut into four pieces and each of us was given a part from the top half and a part from the tail half. It was covered in a balsamic wine reduction sauce and accompanied with a mélange of potatoes, onions and peppers all sautéed together, and some roasted zucchini. Had it not been for our amazing lunch the day before this would have topped the list of meals we’ve had in Europe during our five months here. The only thing I regret is not getting the name of the restaurant, however given the size of Cala Vadella it would be impossible to miss should we ever find time (and funds) for a return trip.

Following lunch we were once again in the mood for a late afternoon siesta to help energize for the evening. We drove back to the hotel following the main roads this time rather than taking the more scenic route along the coast, and made it back in half the time. No matter where you are on the island it will never take more than 30min of driving to get where you want to go (that is depending on your own driving and navigation skills).

That evening after getting cleaned up and Kathryn taking a siesta, we drove back over to Cala Corral for the sunset. It seemed we had made the right choice as to which beach was best because there were already about three or four other cars parked waiting for the sun to begin going down. Unfortunately the clouds from earlier in the day had only partially cleared so we were left with a slightly worse show than the night before, but by no means disappointed. Once the sun had gone below the horizon it turned the sky and clouds a magnificent hazy magenta that was totally unexpected.

The rest of the night was spent walking the beach near our hotel and looking for a restaurant to stop in for tapas. The first place we came to looked very promising with a wide array of dishes posted outside. However, as we were approaching the dining area we noticed a portly Spanish lady holding a microphone then all of a sudden she belted out: “This is grrrround contrrrrol to majorrr Tom!!” (Imagine the “r’s” being rolled in a Spanish sort of way). We just turned and walked the other direction. Eventually we settled on the place we had eaten paella at the other day. They had an assortment of tapas that seemed light enough seeing as lunch was still fresh in our minds (and stomachs). They brought out four little tapas plates that we ate (and finished), but didn’t ask what they were until the meal was over and we were ready to leave. The first was like a fancy tuna salad, the second was warm, cut up octopus with an interesting vinegar sauce poured over the top, the third was some chorizo and tripe, and fourth was described to us as “hands of pig.” Well we said we’re always up for trying new things. The meal was memorable to say the least. I’m not saying the dishes were terrible or inedible, just not something we would order a second time.

Hasta luego

-Jordan and Kathryn

Winter in Ibiza - Exploring the North

Before we ever left for our vacation Kathryn and I had discussed the possibility of renting a car (depending on prices) to have a better opportunity to explore the little island, and after the recommendation of our server it was a necessity. We figured Saturday would be perfect because we could have the car for the weekend. There was a little flyer for rent-a-cars at the front desk of the hotel and after breakfast we inquired with one of the hotel staff about how to go about renting one. The woman at first didn’t understand what we were asking, but when we pointed to the sign she said (in a rather matter-of-fact voice) that they were closed because it was Saturday. I mean what good business that specializes in tourism amenities closes down for the weekend? At first we were slightly discouraged and worried that we may have missed our chance to go exploring, but the woman seemed to recognize our trepidation and told us about a couple different companies within walking distance that most likely were open.


With our hope renewed we walked not two blocks down the road when we came upon another rent-a-car place with a very charismatic and helpful attendant. He hooked us up with a very affordable little European-style mini Chevrolet, and provided a map. Next he suggested that we check out the north of the island the first day (then drew out a convenient route to take us past the most interesting towns/beaches), and see the southern half the next. It sounded like a good plan so we hopped in the car (started off nice and slow so I could get the feel of driving stick-shift again since it had been a good two years) and took off north partially following the path we walked the previous day towards Santa Agnès.

We had planned on stopping in Santa Agnès but it was such a small town with nothing more than a church, and the weather was so warm and the countryside was so beautiful that we just kept on driving. The road twisted and turned first through some farming communities where we saw old Spanish couples walking through rows of olive trees carrying chainsaws and pruning their crop. The trees were just starting to bloom, and they were covered with tiny whitish-pink flowers. Next the road narrowed and we began climbing in elevation up into the more “mountainous” central region of the island (I use quotes because for someone coming from the Midwest they were mountains, but someone from say Oregon may not see them the same).

The first stop on our trans-island journey took us to the town of Sant Miguel de Balansat. It was the first town we passed that had a “main” street, and more than one restaurant/bar. Unfortunately our reason for stopping was less than ideal. When traveling by airplane recently it has become common for Kathryn to get sick, and this time was no different. She contracted a flu-like virus from the flight over so we stopped to find a “Farmacia” to stock up on aspirin and throat lozenges. Luckily as bad as she felt, just being in such an idyllic setting with warm sun beaming down constantly gave her the strength to power through the illness, and she never let it slow her down (well that and at least an hour or so siesta each day).

Once Kathryn was sufficiently medicated we got back in the car and followed the signs down towards the coast and the Port de Sant Miguel. One of the best parts of our excursion was the feeling of isolation, and that we had the whole island almost entirely to ourselves. When we got to the port the surrounding town was totally deserted save for one tiny bar/café right off the sand. There was also an elderly gentleman combing the beach with a metal detector. After basking in the sun for a few minutes we discovered a small trail leading around the edge of the water that then went up the hill and along the cliffs that lined the bay. We followed it for about five minutes or so before it opened up into a very secluded second beach that was surrounded by miniature boat houses. There was also a large concrete slab about 100ft. from the water that in the summer appeared to be built up into a bar to cater to all the tourists.

Leaving the Port de Sant Miguel we headed to the most northern point of the island and a town called Portinatx. This town, like most of the others we came upon, was all but deserted. After pulling multiple u-turns and one wrong turn down a one-way street we found a decent parking spot, and walked down to the water. The beach once again looked like a major tourist destination in the summer months ringed with bars, hotels and restaurants, but at this time there wasn’t another soul in sight. While relaxing in the sun on the beach we noticed a very faint stone lookout structure in the distance, and decided that even though it looked relatively far away we could probably hike to it. So we crossed the beach and began walking in the general direction of the tower (if you look very closely in the picture you can see it on top of the hill). The path we chose took us through some closed down resorts and along some cliffs overlooking the water, and after about 45min the structure finally came into full view. There were no identifiable markings or plaques explaining the history so I can’t tell you the exact purpose for it, but based on the location (and the fact that we saw about five or six others around the island as we were exploring) leads me to believe it was an old sentry/lookout tower strategically positioned to observe and guard the island from invaders. Unfortunately the exits were sealed so we couldn’t climb inside and see the view from the top.

By this time we were starting to get rather famished. We thought back to the meal we had the day before of paella as well as the recommendation from our server. He had mentioned that the restaurant we needed to try was also on the northern part of the island, but he also told us that it gets so busy you need to call ahead for a reservation. Since technically it was in the same direction we were going to get back to the hotel we figured it couldn’t hurt to swing by and check to see if they had a table available (if so great, if not we would just make a reservation for the following day and come back).

The name of the restaurant was Restaurante Pou d’es Lleó and it was in the town of the same name. The town itself we never saw, but by following the well marked signs we made it to the restaurant in about 15minutes. By the time we arrived lunch was just getting started (it was 1:45pm) and they had a number of tables open. The first lady we asked for help spoke no English, and she called over a gentleman who knew enough to tell us where to sit. The first encouraging sign was that all the customers there were Spanish; the second was the size of the menu. They had three different options, either paella, grilled fish or a type of Spanish fish stew. If a restaurant’s menu is that small it means they have perfected their craft, and you cannot go wrong with whatever you decide to order. Our choice had been made for us by the server who recommended the place. Underneath the name of the restaurant that he had given us he had written “Bullit de Peix” so of course that’s what we got.

While waiting for our food they first brought out some baguette with a garlic butter spread and a small bowl of Spanish olives. It was so good I had to remind Kathryn (and myself) not to fill up on bread before the actual meal arrived. Next for our first course came a fish soup, but this was not your ordinary run of the mill fish soup. This was a bowl filled with Spanish risotto rice, covered in a thick but not too creamy fish soup that was filled with bits of octopus, mussels and was garnished with crab legs. It was the best soup I have ever eaten, better than New England clam chowder, better than South Carolina she-crab soup, just unbelievable, and it was only the first course. For the main dish they brought out a platter of different fish boiled in a special sauce of Spanish seasonings, and laid over a bed of potatoes also drenched in the amazing sauce. The fish was perfectly cooked, fell apart off the bones and melted in your mouth. Even having already gorged on everything that had been brought before it (and Kathryn exclaiming she was full following the soup) we polished off the entire tray. As I watched Kathryn picked through the discarded bones that were left over making sure every possible scrap of fish had been eaten I was overcome by a feeling of disappointment. This was without a doubt the best meal I have eaten in Europe, and even though I had eaten to the bursting point, I was disappointed that it was over. Then when the waitress came back to clear our plates she uttered some of the most beautiful words I have ever heard: “Poquito mas?” What we hadn’t realized was the meal was all-you-can-eat, and after about a minute of waiting she brought out an entire new tray of fish. Kathryn was full but I finished it all until I couldn’t imagine eating another bite. It was heaven, and if someone local ever recommends a restaurant again I will fall over myself to get there as fast as possible.

Once we regained the ability to walk after such an amazing lunch we drove back across the island to our hotel for a much needed siesta. Kathryn was still fighting off her flu so we spent about an hour or so relaxing in our room until the sun started to go down. At that point we both rushed to get dressed and make it down the street to the bay to watch the sunset. Being a little groggy and still quite full from our lunch we made it just in time as the sun was starting to go beneath the horizon. Up to that point the sky had been virtually cloudless all day, but it seemed at just the right time a few tiny clouds blew overhead at the perfect moment to be turned vibrant shades of red, orange and pink by the descending sun.

As the day before we rounded out the evening with cerveza’s at the hotel bar. The north of the island had a character totally its own, and while it did have beautiful beaches it was very rural and mountainous. Sunday we planned to hit the southern region of the island which is known for having more numerous beaches. While at the bar we did a little chatting with the bartender because we were in there rather early and no one else had wandered in for dinner yet. He was an elderly guy, and we talked about everything from U.S. and European politics and the healthcare systems, to the fact that his son is studying marine biology in Valencia Spain, and his daughter is 30 and still living at home with him and his wife. He was a really nice guy, and in the course of our conversation he mentioned a little bar he recommended for us to try in a town that is just about dead center of the island. So you know what that means.

Hasta mañana,

-Jordan and Kathryn

Winter on the Island of Ibiza

Yesterday we returned to cold and snowy Lille France from 6days/5nights on the island of Ibiza (which is just off the south-eastern coast of Spain) where the temp stayed in the mid 60's all week and the sun was shining all but one day. We flew with Ryanair from London-Stanstead airport directly to Ibiza for 4pounds each way. We had five and a half glorious days in Ibiza, and one frighteningly disastrous night in London that all contributed to this totally unforgettable trip. One sign of an amazing vacation is a feeling of overwhelming need to return, and by lunch time of our first day we could not stop talking about two things: when we'll be able to come back, and a need to learn Spanish (we had a very basic understand of the language thanks to what had been picked up from the kitchen staff at the restaurants we used to work at, and from Taco Bell commercials). Every day brought different adventures, scenery and cuisine, and it is for these reasons that I am breaking up this trip into five or so different blog entries.


Our first major task was getting to the airport in London, and I know how boring it can be reading about the actual travelling parts so I just want to offer one piece of advice then move on. If you ever have to go to England/London, no matter what the reason, make sure to do your due diligence, and plan out each detail well in advance, or the city will absolutely devour your wallet.

Our plane touched down in Ibiza just after 9pm local time, and we carried our bags onto the plane (to check them would have cost 3x what we paid for the flight) so it didn't take long before we were in a cab headed towards our hotel. The place we stayed at was in the second biggest city (which isn't saying much) of Sant Antoni de Portmany located on the western side of the island. We stayed at Hotel Puchet (Putxet) which was only about two blocks away from the beach and marina. It was a decent sized hotel and our room was clean and comfortable, but we didn't plan on spending much time there anyway. Something that did stand out about the hotel, and really everywhere on the island, was the geniality and kindness from everyone we encountered.

The trip started off with a lot of intrigue and anticipation. Neither Kathryn nor I really knew what to expect. Ibiza is internationally recognized as the party capital of Europe for about six months of the year, and February is not one of those months. Winter in Ibiza was described to us as a time when the locals take back the island. Approximately 75-80% of all the restaurants, bars, shops and hotels had closed their doors for the off-season which gave the island a very peaceful and calm ambiance; something that is unheard of once the weather reaches the mid 70's. Driving in the pitch black of night from the airport to the hotel did not ease our minds. We were still very excited to get our first real views of the island so once we dropped our bags off in the room we went out to explore what little of the area we could before crashing (wearing only light sweatshirts because it was still in the mid/low 50's). The hotel, being so close to the water, we quickly found a boardwalk that ran along the bay. We followed it all the way around until we got to the marina, and that was about the time Kathryn started getting cold so we turned back towards the hotel to call it a night.

Breakfast was included in the price of our hotel room so we got up nice and early to ensure we didn't miss out. It was slightly confusing at first because we were expecting some kind of buffet set out like is customary in many European hotels, but instead there was just an instant coffee and juice machine. So we got our drinks and sat down. Soon a server came over, and after we kindly explained "no hable Español" he preceded to list off the breakfast options in broken English. We settled on simple bacon and eggs on baguette toast, and after a few cups of coffee we were out the door ready to get our first glimpse of the island.

Having an idea of what the harbor/bay looked like at night we figured the boardwalk would be a great place to begin our morning urban-hike. Even though it was only about 9am there was no real need for a jacket, and after an hour of walking the clouds were blown away and we were blessed with warm sunlight for the rest of the day. Once we had rounded the bay the path began weaving its way around the coast and past some of the closed and barred hotels that lined the waterfront. We walked along the water until the pavement ended, and then turned up into the hills, and began following signs in the direction of Santa Agnès. This took us up through some sparse residential homes surrounded by open fields and rows of olive trees until we stood at a round-a-bout overlooking Sant Antoni.

By this time we had already hiked a good couple miles so we turned back down into the city and headed towards the hotel to change clothes (it had reached the mid 60's before noon). During our descent we passed the famous "Egg" statue of Sant Antoni that sits in the middle of one of the intersections. It wasn't anything too spectacular, but I had read about it on a couple of websites before we came here so it was an interesting landmark. As we were walking back through the city signs of the islands infamous party scene were evident everywhere. There were flyers and posters in the windows of almost every shop or business, or plastered on the walls of buildings at busy intersections; massive billboards rested on the sides of the road advertising special deals/promotions, or celebrity DJ's that regularly headlined a club. We tried not to take much notice since all the clubs were closed for the winter anyway.

After shedding a couple layers back at the hotel we ventured out to try and find a restaurant open for lunch. The street our hotel was on, as well as the boardwalk, was lined with dozens of bars and restaurants, but they were all closed for winter. After about a half hour or so we stumbled upon a nice little place called Restaurant Koppas that was open, and had an outdoor seating area so we could have lunch in the sun. Our table looked out onto a sun-drenched plaza, and a boulevard lined with tall palm trees which ran along the marina. They had a pretty extensive menu (translated into English), but one dish in particular stood out: the paella. It took about 45min to an hour of preparation so we ordered a couple cerveza’s, and Kathryn got a tomato salad, and we passed the time enjoying the warmth of the sun, and the relaxing feeling of being on vacation. We also chatted a bit with our server who spoke almost perfect English. He asked if it was our first visit to the island, and if we were Canadian (I guess they don't get too many Americans). We said yes (not to the Canadian bit) and asked if he recommended anything for us to do or see while we were there. His first piece of advice was to rent a car so that we could experience the entire island, and second he gave us the name of a restaurant on the northern side of the island where we could get great fresh fish. He finished his recommendation by sticking out his belly, rubbing it and saying “trust me.” (Another tip: if someone local ever recommends doing or eating anything, do it!)

When the food finally came it was brought out in a big paella/wok looking dish overflowing with rice and seafood. Just thinking back on it makes my mouth water. It was the very best paella either of us has ever eaten. The rice was done perfectly and slathered in butter and Spanish seasonings. It was also filled with all different types of seafood including prawns, crab legs and claws, mussels, clams, squid, and then topped off with some tender pieces of chicken. There was so much food we couldn’t imagine finishing it all, but with a little determination (and two very large helpings a piece) we polished off the entire bowl. We finished lunch just before 5pm, and then it was time to head back to the hotel for a siesta. Lunch was so big and delicious that we crossed dinner off our itinerary for the evening.

The rest of the day was spent relaxing. We took a little nap back at the hotel, and then went for a stroll along the water to walk off a bit of the weight we gained at lunch. On our way back we stopped in the hotel bar for a couple drinks to wind out the night, and to plan out a tentative schedule for Saturday. Day one couldn’t have been a better introduction to life on the island or Spanish culture. We were already dreading the fact that we had to leave in five days, but did our best to keep that out of our minds.

Hasta mañana,
 
-Jordan and Kathryn

Schedule Changes: School and Vacation

Since returning from the States not too much has been happening here in Lille other than the start of our second term of school. Both Kathryn and I have had our schedules changed around a bit. Her more than I and more than necessary. One of her schools, Turgot, got the brilliant idea to count the actual minutes that she works rather than the class periods. While teaching little kids, it is hard enough to keep their attention for the five minutes it takes to explain the rules of BINGO let alone keep them entertained for an entire hour's worth of English lessons. For this reason (I assume it's the reason, but it is France so who knows?) her class periods last 45minutes each; so even if she teaches twelve different classes that does not amount to twelve hours of work. Of course they are not taking into account how much time she spends preparing for each one of the classes. How could they when a third of the teachers cancel class on her just minutes before she is scheduled to begin? They also don't account for the hours she spends waiting around between classes because they refuse to group any of her English lessons together. This leaves her with large gaps of time filled with nothing but awkward silence alone in the lounge because all the other professors are too busy shut off in their cliques gossiping. So currently Kathryn is in the midst of a scheduling conflict created by the simple fact that all but a select few of the teachers she works with has any intention of assisting, and by "assisting" I mean telling her when they plan to have an English lesson.

I on the other hand have had a much smoother transition into my new schedule. Unfortunately I no longer have Wednesdays off and now have to work everyday! Of course I only have one hour of class Tuesdays and Wednesdays (and an hour commute each way), but c'mon, how can they expect me to be productive with only TWO days off per week, What is this Soviet Russia?!? Anyway, I am now working with a new BTS class, and am having them discuss their reports on the summer internships they completed this past June. So far things have gone well, but I have the sneaking suspicion that I once again am speaking with the best of the class first, and it will all be downhill from here. Oh well...at least I should be getting an entertaining class fieldtrip to London out of it come January 19th!

The big news of the past week is that Friday was Kathryn's birthday. I had lots planned including pasteries, flowers, dinner and a movie, but some class scheduling conflicts got in the way and I had to make a few modifications on the fly. I still think she had a pretty good birthday, hopefully. After I finished with my day I picked up some lunch for the both of us from a little sandwich shop close to my school, and brought it home with a bouquet of roses. That went over well. Kathryn was not feeling in top shape so we just hungout for a bit, and caught up on some American television shows that have been streamed over the internet. We had eaten lunch in the mid-afternoon, and we spent a little longer than expected getting ready to go out for the evening so we just grabbed a quick bite before dashing out the door to catch the tram into the centre-ville. Next we went to a little brasserie that we have been to a few times to have a little desert. Kathryn had an "assiette gourmande," or a mini tasting platter, and I had a very delicious tiramisu (Kathryn ate half). We paid the bill as soon as the food arrived because it was important we were not late for our final event of the evening: Le Majestique Cinéma to see Avatar in 3D. It was in English with French subtitles. We had considered seeing the French dubbed version, but we had heard so many good things about the movie and figured if we had the opportunity to see it in English we should take it. The movie was fantastic! I had never seen a film in 3D before, and the graphics and special effects were amazing. My only problem with the film was the general plot, and overall storyline was strikingly similar to that of Ferngully: The Last Rainforest. I'm not complaining though because it really was exciting and entertaining.

That was the end of our night and Kathryn's birthday. Seeing as we didn't get a chance to go out for a fancy meal we will probably make up for that sometime soon. The only other interesting tidbit from this past week came when we discovered a special deal by Ryanair for flights costing only £4 each way. That being a deal we could not pass up we booked tickets for our upcoming February vacation to the Spanish island of Ibiza. I don't know too much about the island, but at the very least it should be a great escape from the below freezing temperatures and almost daily snow flurries of Nord-Pas de Calais.

A bientôt,

-Jordan and Kathryn