The Boat to Ibiza

The weather was still somewhat cloudy and promising some storms when we woke up on Wednesday morning. Fortunately, a freshly rain-washed town and some gorgeous morning light facilitated some great photos of the town castle a block inland from our hotel.

I took advantage of the opportunity to take a panorama shot from our third-floor hotel balcony before we checked out. See how many Denia landmarks you can spot in 270 degrees!

Having cleaned up and checked out, we had quite a bit of time before our ferry left the terminal at 5PM. We walked around the marina a bit and enjoyed seeing the coast in broad daylight, for once.

Eventually, we settled in at a restaurant near the ferry terminal to enjoy a substantial afternoon brunch of mussels, three different ways. All fresh: first cooked with with olive oil and onions; second, broiled in white wine and paprika, and third… Well, here’s a picture.

That tasty little dish, as we’d learn when we re-encountered it in Barcelona, is “tiger mussels.” At first, we had no idea how it was prepared–it seemed almost like deviled eggs, but with mussels. Later, we’d learn the following recipe: 1) remove cooked mussels from shells; 2) slice mussel meat and mix with cream, a little cheese, and sliced mushrooms; 3) ladle back into shell and cover with breadcrumbs; 4) fry in olive oil and serve on the shell. Oh my. Oh me oh my. One of our new favorite dishes, and quite possibly the best preparation of mussels we’ve had (and we *love* us some mussels anyways, no matter how plain).

After our meal, it was time to board the ferry! This sizable catamaran would take us on the two-hour trip to Ibiza. It looks big, but with some of the stormy waves we were working through, and the shallow hull draft-to-inertia ratio of a sizable catamaran, it got pretty rough at times. A number of people in our first-class area got quite sick–and believe me, hearing other people heave is the worst part. Nonetheless, we made a speedy trip out to the islands.

When we approached the islands, the clouds started to break over rocky lighthouses. We entered port to a beautiful scene in the evening sun.

Ibiza is an interesting island. Renown for its party-central status and a multitude of nightclubs, it’s still an interesting Mediterranean destination in it’s own right. We were staying in the *city* of Ibiza (it shares its name with the island itself), which featured the main port, our target nightclub (Pasha), a great beach cove, our hotel, a neat castle, and charming old-town, all within walkable (or a cheap taxi fare’s) distance of each other.

Our hotel in Ibiza (the city) was another Eurostars, this one brand new, half a block from the beach, and nestled against the rocky hill topped by Ibiza’s own millenia-old anti-pirate castle. After a long boat ride and an even longer nap, though, we were afraid we once again would have difficulty locating an open kitchen. (Ibiza, even though it’s a party-hard kind of town, still stops serving food at most establishments around midnight.) Fortunately for us, the establishment Prince (just on the other side of the beach) was still serving a variety of simple but tasty dishes–so we refueled on smoked salmon, jamon bocadillos, and wine. The lady was pleased, which meant I was, too.

After a late dinner, it was time–around 12:30 AM–to hit the nightclubs. We were aiming for the infamous Pasha establishment, and that evening’s performance (“Cocoon”, featuring several prominent discoteca DJs and lots of EDM) didn’t disappoint. We danced for hours. Even I had fun. Despite where this picture was taken from, shot for context, we were right up in front for the whole night.

Of course, I’m pretty sure 90% of the crowd was high on some combination of ecstasy, alcohol, and pheromones. You can tell something’s going on when I’m one of the better dancers in the room. We headed back to our hotel around 3AM, after a fantastic night of laughing at each other’s moves on the dance floor.