Ibiza

From your sober sister😏

Okay, okay let’s first of all clear the air, I am not 1000% sober. I think I had at least one maybe two drinks this year, before my trip abroad recently.

Three days or so into my Ibiza trip I wandered the streets of Old Town and fell in love with the cobblestone streets, the familiarity of the Spanish built fort, and I recalled my love of sangria.

A glass of cava here and maybe a small glass of rośe there. Truthfully, I do love good wine and miss it, but I do not like the feeling of being buzzed at all and much less, I never, ever want to let the former day effect my next so I can’t typically even finish one drink however, on my three week stint in Europe I did intend to have a drink or two to celebrate life. I actually intended to have an aperol spritz, which never happened, but I was reminded of just how much I love and miss sangria after that first one. More watery and fruity than wine, I can drink it easier because it’s not so concentrated.

My overall time in Ibiza however was punctuated beginning to end by the immediate and palpable understanding that the climate of the island for the local population is severe. Becoming ‘‘famous’’ has implications, as many of us have now learned through the rise of social, and this island paradise is no exception to the rule. All of humanity seems to have a presence in the online space these days which I think is good, so we can all see what Jim Carry put voice to in his best quote ever ‘‘I hope everyone gets rich and famous, so they can see that that’s not it.’’ Whether we’re talking island or human doesn’t so much matter, both are for sale, at a price. They say money does only one thing when you get it; makes you more of what you already are. The island has lost much of its authenticity to the sway and pull of the billionaires that now frequent or reside there seasonally on their exorbitant estates and yachts. Pandering to the elite, Ibiza is just as susceptible to its own demise as the rest of the world, and sadly, more and more locals are being priced out or simply can’t find housing and are forced to leave.

Hiking, boat trips, swimming, the gym at my hotel, and a few fitnesses classes they put on both there and the ones I outsourced, I sought to connect with the island of Ibiza in it’s natural state, as much as I could. I wanted to see the island’s nature like those first hippies that washed up on shore in the early 1970’s. None of it felt too far from my own island home though, and looking around all I could see was a dire state of drought, a brushfire waiting to happen, and an island suffering from overpopulation.

I silently vowed to make my already short showers minimal and do my best to be a more conscious traveler, stooping to pick up fishing line off the rocks as I hiked onward.

I chose my hotel based on the fitness room. I was looking for a healthy trip, a retreat feeling vibe, so I went with one that had daily classes on the schedule. OKU Ibiza was my home for all six nights whilst I aimed to find the balance between the overzealous and often in your face party scene and the bohemian cliffside paradise that the hippies discovered and spoke about many moons ago. Dirt roads, farmland, and hidden abodes, I could see how once upon a time, Ibiza was just a hidden gem in the Med…

Old Town was the first part of the island that reminded me that I was, after all, in Spain. Slightly saddened to come to understand that that realization had taken me some 48 hrs+ to reach I continued to keep my chin up and my eyes open for what I’d heard so many talk freely about over the years. Maybe it was peak season, maybe it was the heat of August, maybe it was the semi constant plague of new-agey hotels (like the one I stayed at) that could be dropped into Tulum, Canguu, or several other cities now around the world that have become so overrun with tourism, that they seem hard to identify. Locations that have pandered so hard for the attention of the masses that they’ve completely lost their authenticity. Countries that feel just like another. It’s of course the sad reality and story of the impact of world travel, and social media’s roll in it all.

Alas, the hikes, the ocean, and the boat day around Es Vedra were my connection points to the island and I was extremely grateful in those moments to feel none of the pretenses of what humanity has altered the land into but the raw force of her energy juxtaposed next to mine.

All in all I doubt I’ll be going back to Ibiza anytime soon.

I have absolutely loved Spain for over a decade and lived in two different cities there 2010 (I believe) and 2013 so my review of Ibiza doesn’t so much effect my overall sentiment but I’d be inclined on another trip to check out more of mainland Spain or other outlying islands potentially.

For now I’d leave Ibiza to rest without my impact, and hope she’s able to find her homeostasis once again.

With love,

Hannah