Around The World 2011 Day 51: Ibiza, Spain

We woke up this morning on a ship approaching Ibiza.  I know what you are thinking.  Party Capital of the World.  And that is correct.  Ibiza, or as the Spanish spell it Eivissa, is home to the biggest, craziest nightclub scene the world has ever seen, where famous DJ's and musicians come from around the world to perform on a small island in the Mediterranean.  Before you get too excited, we are arriving in Ibiza at Noon and leaving at Midnight, which means you will not see pictures of Barbie and I at a rave sweating with a thousand other partygoers.  I hope that you are not too disappointed.

However, we are docking next to Old Town Ibiza, with its Medieval fortifications, shops and restaurants.  Which means that you get to see food and old buildings, hurrah.  And perhaps some sort of loophole will appear and you will get to see some DiscoMadness.

Breaking the fast.

Believe it or not, I am trying to mix it up a little with the waffles on the side.  Those were called Belgian waffles, which leads me to ask exactly what a Belgian waffle is, because I have often been served this waffle as thick and fluffy.

Because the ship could not get a good docking spot, SeaDream was supposed to anchor outside the harbor and then run the tender in and out.  But the sea was super rough outside Puerto de Ibiza.  The SeaDream people worked out a compromise where the ship will dock at Noon and let people off, and then head back out and anchor to return at 3:30 PM, when it will dock again in a different spot.

Barbie and I had planned to wait for afternoon to get off the ship, but with the sea being rough we decided to hop off the ship and spend three and a half hours ashore.

This is the first view I saw of Ibiza, and it looked shocking like Los Angeles's Marina del Rey to me.

We walked off the boat on the opposite side of harbor from Old Town, but Ira and Robin had gotten a cab and shared it with us, saving us a long walk around the harbor before walking up a hill.  (Phew.)

On the other side of the harbor, called La Marina, I spotted this pretty fantastic sign.  I doubt many would disagree that it is a bad idea to drive your car into the sea.

When you are in Spain, and you see a Lakers jersey, it is likely to not have Kobe's number on it.  Not when Spaniard Pau Gasol has won two world championships with Lakers.

Ira and Robin had spent time in Ibiza before the cruise, and did not need to walk up a steep hill to the historic Dalt Vila again.  They went shopping, and we went marching towards the church you see at the top of the hill.

Let me warn you about the next picture.  It is going to make your heart ache.

Awwwww.  Kitty kitty kitty.  This little kitten was sitting on a balcony looking down at us, and, yes, I took a dozen pictures of him/her/it.

Guess what?  Ibiza was Phoenician then Carthaginian then Roman then Muslim and then Catholic, until today when it is on Ecstasy most of the time.  I do not mean to be too sarcastic; I just fear that I am boring you with similar histories.  It makes sense that this place has the same history as the rest of the area.  Technically, Catalonia captured the island from the Muslim North Africans in 1235, which is a little different than other port cities.  But were they lisping?

We stopped for a quick inspection of the Mirador de Dalt Vila, a Relais & Châteaux property.  Think back two years to Ezé and recall that the amazing Chevre d'Or was also a Relais & Châteaux property.  Those five stars on the wall are for real.

The tunnel heading up through the rock to the top of the hill was cool.  And I mean temperature-wise, as it is again in 90's℉ / 30's ℃ and getting out of the sun feels great.

Robin had warned us about this.  Along the way up to the top, they have cardboard cutouts of soldiers, just in case you could not picture the guys who were loading the canons.

Ah.  You know, when you march uphill for a while and then you are rewarded with an amazing view, you never regret the effort you put in to get there.

There goes our ride, SeaDream I, heading back out to sea to bob in the waves for a few hours and then return to us.

Remember the rules.  When you see the ship from shore, you wave.  Why?  Because when you are on the ship, it is fun to see people waving at you.  The bedrock of society is doing unto others.

Apparently the pentagonal bastion was an extremely innovative and effective way to protect yourself.

In front of the cathedral is, of course, the Plaça Catedral.  The building you see next to the cathedral is the Museum of Archeology, and I was terribly disappointed that it was closed.  Based on the hours posted on the door, it should have been open so that I could see relics dating all the way back to 600 BC and including every culture that I keep mentioning; Phoenician, Carthaginian, Roman, Muslim, and Medieval Christian.  So sad.

Eivissa Cathedral.  Why am I being loyal to the spelling?

Because that is how the plaque spells it, and that way YOU experience what I did.

Standard Barbie lights a candle shot.

Standard from the back of the church shot.

Standard Pope John Pail II half-sized doll shot.  Wait a second.  I think that is not so standard.  And they love hi so much they stuck him right in front of Mary.  Oh my.

Okay.  As someone who was not raised Christian, I wonder how people feel about this rather graphic representation of a deceased Jesus.  I mean, there is representation of the Lord, and then there is, well, that.

Heading back down the tunnels, you are treated to a shot of the incredibly tan and sexy me.  (Guest photographer Barbara Howard.)

Living on a narrow, pedestrian only Medieval street must be the coolest.  If I was twenty-one again, but knew what a forty-two year old knows, maybe I would move here and be a shirtless cocktail waiter for a summer.  After all, that was before the years robbed me of my beauty.

Heading back down the hill, I turned back for another shot of the cathedral.  If Los Angeles, were a more Catholic town, there would not be a Hollywood sign or Griffith Observatory overlooking the city, but a Cathedral.

Barbie takes a breather with Nestea Limón.  I drank mine in seconds.  Did I mention the heat?  We have two hours to kill until our ship comes in.  Until our ship literally comes in.  What shall we do?

Rock out to and buy several Ibiza DJ Mix CD's?  Done.  (And, yes, we will have a rave party at our place with these CD's playing, but the date is a secret and the guest list super-exclusive.)

This mannequin has a massive boob job.  How crazy is that?  Then again, perhaps this is a service for the club-goers who have undergone said procedure.  After all, is it fair to ask a woman who has over-enhanced herself to judge a bikini based on a mannequin with mere C's?

Some things are too funny to not take a picture.

Hard to tell which are live and which are Memorex?

Okay.  We have wandered around Old Town Ibiza long enough, we figure we can sit down for lunch and then get on the ship when we are done.

We wanted Paella.

We ordered Mixed Paella, and.... fine, I will confess.  We wanted our shrimp shucked and our chicken deboned.  We prefer Paella the way it was served to us in Madrid and Barcelona two years ago, as in for tourists.

A panorama of our lovely lunch environment.  See the big hat in front of me?  That belongs to a sweet, older Englishwoman.  Now, I noticed her husband stand up with his camera to take her picture, and, as the rules of travel state, I offered to take a picture of them together.  They were lovely and grateful, and soon told us that they were from Essex and celebrating their 50th anniversary.  And then they shared with a laugh that the day before they were ready to kill each other.  Supremely funny and refreshing.

I had the good wisdom to ask them to take a picture with Barbie, but not the good wisdom to enter their names on my phone for posterity.  Still, as the 2011 tour nears its end, I am getting better than ever at including pictures of people.

Ibiza Marina obelisk sighting.

We had more time to kill, as there is a late-running ferry in the spot where the SeaDream needs to dock.

How to kill the time?

Iced creams.  Coffee for him, chocolate for her.

There floats the ferry that needs to get out of our way.  We are very hot and tired and sweaty and we want to change and relax in our pool already.  Move.  Move!

Oh well.  It is not moving.  Time to wander around and look at shops.

Very, very few of you will get this shirt  But for those that do, we all know that Fishbone was one of the great bands of the 80's and 90's, and I think they still record and perform in 00's but I am old and out of touch.  It is wonderful that they are held in high enough esteem to have their logo aped by some cheesy t-shirt stor in Ibiza.

Yes, I was bored enough wandering around, waiting for that ferry to move, that I took a picture of this sampling of bicycle violence.

We returned to the restaurant where we had lunch because Daniel, a member of the crew, had been there with other passengers.  He would likely be able to tell us how much longer we needed to wait.  And... it would be another hour.  But Daniel, in perfect SeaDream fashion, bought everyone cool drinks so that they could sit and relax while they waited.  (And by drinks, I had a Fanta Limón.  Good stuff.  Not too sweet like USA soft drinks.)

Everyone was pleasant while waiting.  After all, it is nobody's fault that the ferry ran late.

And then the ferry went out to sea.  Yay!

As you can see, I was not the only one taking a picture of our floating home on its way to rescue us.

The iPhone was again left charging in the cabin while we spent our time at the pool.  I know that if our building at home had a pool we would barely use it, but it has been wonderful soaking in the ship's pool every day after spending hours under the Mediterranean sun.

When we arrived for dinner there were two seats at this table of ten without our names on them, but this table of lovely, friendly people invited us to sit with them.  As we toasted, I was that guy who took a half-assed picture while half-assedly clinking my glass against others.  But it was worth it.  Mike, whom you saw on here the other day, told us that they had offered our seats to two other couples who had passed, and I replied, "Hey, third string is a promotion for us."

I slipped away from the dinner table for a sunset picture.

I will never tire of sunsets.

Time for the meal!

Her starter; Homemade Terrine de Foie Gras with Pear Compote, Black Truffle Dressing and Toasted Butter Brioche.

His starter; Vegetable filled Spring Roll with Sweet and Sour Sauce.

Her second; Momosa Salad; Boston Lettuce, Boiled Eggs and French Dressing.

His second; Cream of Carrots soup.

Her main; Rack of Lamb with Vegetable Ratatouille, Gratin Potatoes and Rosemary-Mint Gravy.

His Main; Zodiac Chicken (it was italicized on the menu); Stuffed Free-Range Chicken Breast in Puff Pastry, with Shallot and Portwine Jus.

Two of our favorite servers, Marcus and Mikee, with Mike in front of them.  Those guys were excellent at their jobs and had senses of humor.

Dessert was off the menu, as we were ordered to hit the pool for an after-dinner dessert bar.

How does that look for dessert?  I shall not name them all, as I cannot.  However, I will tell you that I had the freshly cooked bananas foster with a scoop of chocolate ice cream.

After dessert, they began playing dance music on the back of the ship.  After all, we are docked at the Ibiza Marina.  Note barbie in the yellow top and white pants, dancing around the edge of the pool.  The people on this ship are about to meet the real Barbie.

As we pulled away from the dock, the midnight dance party around the pool truly began.

A last shot of the cathedral, overlooking the town, as we head out to sea.

Now... I took a veritable TON of pictures of the dance party.  I had no idea how many I would use, but they were all great and I knew that YOU, the loyal Wasters at home, would love watching everyone (especially Barbie) dance with abandon.

Then I realized I could make ten picture animated GIF's out of the party pictures, thus economizing space on the Waste while also giving you the Yacht-Pool-Turned-Disco vibe.

A splendid time is guaranteed for all.

A shot of the moon to calm your eyes after all the flashing party shots.

Ready for more?

Did you note Barbie's costume change?  She had to switch to less clothing shortly after the dancing began, for obvious reasons.  I should also mention that soon after we were out of the harbor the sea got rough and the deck was rocking rather deeply, mostly to starboard, over and over.  It was quite the scene, watching all the dancers get pulled to one side, recover to the center, and then get pulled over again.   

Another chance to rest your eyes from the animation.  I simply adore this shot.  If you had not guessed, Barbie is happiest when she is dancing.  I think that smile is proof positive.  

If only all the good dance spots in Los Angeles had not closed. 

  

Ready the last set of ten?

And that, loyal Wasters, is how we were able to get thirty party pictures into the space of three.  

And get this.  We stayed up very late with the floating disco and tomorrow we have our earliest morning of the trip for an excusrion called The Best of Valencia.

I will be needing coffee tomorrow.

Until then.