My first exposure to the small Spanish island of Ibiza was probably when I was 12 years old and the creative genius that was the Vengaboys came out with the song “We’re Going to Ibiza.” I couldn’t remember exactly how it went so as I began to write this post, I youtubed it and was taken back to my youth. I was not, however, taken back to Ibiza because there is no way any semi-decent club there would actually play this terrible, cringeworthy song. It sounds like it should be background music for a television commercial for a blowout sale on Hawaiian print shirts.
In actuality, Ibiza is a stunning destination that lives up to its party-hardy reputation while providing a gorgeous seaside backdrop for the daytime spent necessarily resting up for another allnighter.
Many major European cities will offer cheap flights to Ibiza, especially during the offseason. It is a hot and crazy weekend destination for many vacationers and those two days are often enough.
There are two main areas you can stay in Ibiza as a young traveller – out by the nightclubs or closer to the beaches. My group opted for a hostel within walking distance of several beaches and we couldn’t have been happier. The area – called San Antonio – faced out towards the ocean. It was a stone’s throw from the infamous Café del Mar although we found ourselves returning to another live music haunt, Villa Mercedes, even killing time there before our departure flight at 2 a.m.
Our days were spent at various beaches and climbing over rocks and into coves to get to them. There is often nothing more gratifying than having a local recommend a destination to you that turns out to be a hidden heaven on earth. That was Cala Salada, a beach no more than 20 minutes from our hostel (girls took a cab, boys went on an "adventure walk" to get there). I know this is not a romantic way to say it, but the water was such a perfect shade of turquoise it honestly looked digitally enhanced. We soon learned it was pretty to look at, but swimming was another story as the annual infestation of jellyfish was underway. Super.
Our big night out was spent at Pacha nightclub, an insane venue that maxes out at 3,000 people and has enough strobe lights and smoke machines that it should carry the same warnings for people as getting a X-ray does.
The sign of a great night, and in this case a great weekend, I believe, is still being up with the sunrise. And you can’t really beat an Ibiza beach to witness something like that.
And now, I will leave you with my favourite verse of the song that introduced me to this lovely place.
I don’t wanna be a bus driver All my life Im gonna pack my bags and leave this town Grab a flight Fly away on venga airways* Fly me high Ibiza sky
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