We managed to sleep the solid hour flight to Ibiza in Easyjet’s non-reclining torture chairs. A taxi took us to our hotel, which being a block from the beach with our ensuite room equipped with a kitchen, was quite a deal! We spent many a meal in front of the Eurocup games in our spacious room. Good find, Trace!
Ibiza was, as one would expect, full of tourists, though not yet very crowded with them, to our relief. The mornings started out overcast and chilly, but the sun was always out by noon. We took it easy the first day and then hit up the old town on the second, when our AM beach attempt was rebuffed by the turbulent, umbrella toppling winds and ominous grey sky. We had a lovely stroll and I found it very quaint and charming. Old Town was in walking distance to our hotel, which was also convenient. After a tapas lunch, we decided the weather was proving consistent enough to give laying out another shot. I swiftly fell asleep and woke up with a sore throat. Bad sign. Looked like another easy night in for the Trace and Mel duo!
Another thing I
should mention, seeing as we were on Ibiza, the internationally renowned party island, and had yet to step foot in a bar or club after two nights there: cover charges are exorbitant! We were planning on going to the original Pacha, the most famous of Ibiza nightclubs, expecting 20-30euro cover charges (which is about 20-30euros more than I’m typically comfortable paying!). But it turns out cover was 38euro, and we were there during the low season! That’s like $60USD, and with the huge risk that no one else would be there. So unless a group of ridiculously rich bachelors looking for a couple of cute, fun, single girls offered to pay our way, no Pacha for us. We did get to see their promotional team on the beach on our last day: picture perfect, plastic-looking guys and girls clad in angel wings, wedding veils, and two stars for a bikini top, strutting up and down the street, wielding a Pacha banner. That was probably more enjoyable than a night at the actual club!