There was a certain inevitability about it, really. Sending a traveller who doesn’t mind the odd club visit to the world’s most famous – and infamous – party island wasn’t exactly the perfect recipe for discovering hidden secrets. Add the dangerous mix of a balmy Mediterranean night, fiery two-for-one cocktails and world-class DJs playing the world’s biggest venues and the result was never in doubt. I had, albeit willingly, fallen victim to the not-so-well-hidden Ibiza.
Loved and loathed, feared and revered and, most of all, undeniably magnetic, there’s a good reason this place has become the focus for travellers looking for a party-based holiday by the beach. There’s also a good reason the only memories many of them will go home with involve the names Pacha, Privilege, Manumission, Amnesia and Space.
And while there’s no arguing that the parties are still this Balearic island’s biggest drawcard, there is far more to Ibiza than the superclubs that have made it to European travellers what Bali and Thailand are to many Australians – how could there not be on a Unesco World Heritage-listed site that was first settled 2700 years ago.
It appears that even then, all those years ago, someone recognised the biggest asset of the island perched happily in the Mediterranean – deep inside the walls of the capital Eivissa’s Old Town lies a cathedral that is believed to sit upon the ruins of an ancient temple dedicated by worshippers to the Egyptian sun god, Bes.
The Christians who conquered the island in AD1234 and renamed the cathedral Our Lady of the Snows may not have had the same foresight, but clearly had a sense of humour – snow is the furthest thing from your mind as you swelter in the mid-morning sun that breaks over the impossibly tall town wall.
The highlight of a visit to the cathedral, however, is not the church itself but the bird’s-eye view of Eivissa town, with its sprawling harbour, port and the flawless blue stretch of Mediterranean that separates Ibiza from its smaller Balearic cousin, Formentera. In the other direction, the view back towards the heart of the island is dominated by the sacred Puig des Molins (Hill of the Windmills). Beneath the tangled mess of olive trees and the red clay soil that make it so apparently ordinary lie the remains of more than 4000 of the Venetians and Cartheginians who settled here thousands of years ago.
The walk down from the cathedral to the outer town wall is a trip trough time. You can almost forget you’re in a heaving party town as you stroll through the cobblestone streets, hidden from the crowds and admiring buildings that have stood for centuries in the protective shadow of the enormous Old Town wall, which took 30 years to build and is, in parts, three metres thick.
Once you walk under that wall, however, the tempo lifts as you wander headlong into the cosmopolitan hussle and bustle of Eivissa Harbour. This is where the beautiful people come to play after sleeping off the night before. Eivissa Harbour is the eastern half of the island’s tasteful answer to San Antoni de Portmany (San Antonio), the concrete high-rise jungle which is invaded each summer by a young crowd of mainly English backpackers and end-of-season football trippers hell-bent on sending themselves into an alcohol and drug-induced oblivion.
The two centres are only 20 minutes apart by road, but by taking any one of a number of scenic routes, it becomes clear why Ibiza is so popular with beach bums. The 527km2 island is surrounded by more than 18km of pristine coastline offering up more than 50 beaches, as busy or secluded as you like. To see and be seen, many head to Playa de Talamanca, just outside of Eivissa, while for a more personal sunning experience, bathers tend to head away from the major resorts. For a day at the beach with breathtaking views, head to Cala d’Hort, which boasts a stunning view of Es Vedra, a sheer-faced island just a few hundred metres offshore which rises 382m from the sea.
These beaches, more than 35 years ago, helped draw thousands of hippies here in search of a peaceful life, closer to nature and in relative seclusion. The northern village of Sant Carles has held onto those roots which have disappeared gradually from Ibiza over the past four decades. Walking through the Saturday afternoon markets you’ll find everything you’d expect – peasant-style, free-flowing clothes, jewellery of bone and rock, and hundreds of other hippy wares – weed-flavoured lollipops, anyone?
But even here you get the feeling you’re not far from a party. As afternoon turns to evening, crowds flock to the western side of the island to witness the stunning sunset. At San Antonio, bodies cram the coastline, picking any vantage point they can.
The lucky ones score a table overlooking the water at the perennially cool Café Del Mar, and watch the sun sink slowly into the Med. These tables are where groups go to debrief and swap stories of what they saw during the day. It’s also where the better-known attractions resurface in conversation. Ibiza’s clubs are notorious, and chances are they’ll occupy many of the island’s visitors until well beyond sun-up.
There’s only so many hours in the day.
