Ibiza, nontraditional approach

My year did not start with a blast. Frankly, one of the hardest depression waves in my life happened in the last months of this year, but I refuse to write about it. Instead I would rather talk what I did instead. I escaped. Whoever says that a trip abroad does not help with your issue just don't know how life works.

With such thoughts in mind, we quickly looked for the cheapest holiday we can visit and low and behold, Ibiza was one of them. Now, it’s not what you think it is. Unbelievably I went there for some peace and quiet not to taste the famour glory of the party island. We tucked ourselves in a small residence in a small village away from the whole chaos of loud speech and drunken states. I spent all day, toasting under the sun, applying my SPF50+ every few hours and ruining my pristine white bathing suit with the aforementioned cream. Truly an unforgettable experience. I know my sarcasm is soaking the page, but I have one thing to say to that: ce la vie.

Frankly, I should put my attitude aside and admit that there isn’t a single soul on this planet that doesn’t like soaking in the sun, reading a book or listening to music because no one likes the smart remarks of the drunk tourist in the pool or the screaming kids that want their floating doughnut. I, myself, enjoyed my time thoroughly, minding the straps of my bathing suit, preventing turning into a treasure map, and completely ignoring the outside world that had no place in the book realm I was currently residing in. My boyfriend put on himself a personal task to drain the hotel from beer since we were all-inclusive and might I add, for once in our relationship, I couldn’t care less. Holidays truly bring out a side of you, you never knew was there. We spent a couple of days just eating, without being hungry, drinking because that’s the rule and slowly forgetting that there was a plane to catch in a couple of days.

After 2 days of being close to a sunstroke and overworking our livers, we visited the capital and had a quick look in Mango and Zara, because I would noy admit defeat against my wallet for the sake of my wardrobe. Besides, everyone has an idea of what sightseeing means. After I brought my 38 pairs of shoes, we climbed up some fortress, which had no information about anywhere in English, so we just reached the top and counted the minutes between the landing of the planes. 2 min.!!! 2 min. in between each plane which I found crazy. Considering the time of our visit, May, it made me feel appreciation for the actual landing strip and how it endures through the summer times.  

After our astonishment at how quickly planes landed, we had food and no, I didn’t have paella. I tried it, I thought about it, I didn’t like it. The verdict was final. I wasn’t a fan. I had carbonara instead. I know… The whole idea of sea food with rice does not appeal to me and frankly life is too short to eat food I don’t fancy.   

After having a mini heart attack at the prices of the beautiful beach dresses every shop offered we supported the local market in other ways by stacking ourselves with the most holiday necessities – magnets. You have not been somewhere if you didn’t bring a magnet with yourself. That’s just law. Interesting thing about me is that I collect postcards more than I do magnets. Not so popular method of collection but for some reason the idea of me posting it to someone with a written wish makes me feel all fussy inside. It adds a certain personality to it, with your own handwriting, writing whatever your heart desires instead of thoe prestamped card, where you just have to sign underneat or the magnet that is just another souvegnier. Old fashioned methods sometimes end up being the prefered one.

I know not everyone can afford to travel and sometimes magnets do not get the same vibe, so old school postcard could do just the thing.

Deciding we had enough sun (not that it could be possible for people that live in England) we bid our farewell with our friend and marched towards the airport which, to my great disappointment was tiny, so much for my olive oil that I couldn’t find. I know what you are thinking. ‘You went to Ibiza and your biggest issue is that you couldn’t buy olive oil?’ I am sad, Okay!

To wrap it up, Ibiza was warm and peaceful, but they don’t make nice pina coladas. Sorry.