Ibiza Summer Hobo

Another week, a whole week. It isn’t long but boy, when you are used to working with 4 days windows, an entire week is a mighty long time. Would love to visit my favourite place one more time before the summer madness subsides but there was not a cat in hell’s chance of me affording the ridiculously priced accommodation that seems to be characterising the island’s offer in the months of July, August, and September.

So what does one do when faced with such a situation, don’t bother? Go somewhere else? Hell no…. You book a hire car with my best friend of a car hire company on the island OK mobility (see previous blog saving mine and Augs’s bacon) at a snip of £9 per night and bingo…. The world is your very reasonably priced oyster! Note that to have mobile accommodation is one of my very favourite things, affording you the opportunity to wake up in some very stunning locations. The agenda this visit was rather heavily influenced by the desire to dance and so perhaps the scenic waking place opportunity may not be fully utilised… but perhaps I can offer an interesting review of car sleeping in close proximity to some of the island’s night spots.

Another money saving tip, just to reaffirm that Ibiza doesn’t have to break the bank…a piece of advice I never embraced at University until very recently on account of anxiety and imposter syndrome and the fact that I generally like who I like and cba with owt else, was to network. I’m finally seeing the value of that now and said networking is playing dividends in the club ‘la lista’ (guestlist sometimes free, sometimes discounted) sense. Believe me folks there are bargains to be had.

So the flights were surprisingly cheap, the accommodation in a traditional sense definitely wasn’t…. But I made it cheap. And... bonus ball…. Upgraded car meant that I now had the 5 star luxury of a Renault Clio as my digs over the scheduled Fiat 500.

Even though the itinerary was ultimately driven by the nightlife schedule I had planned combined with the need for decent wifi for working purposes, I believe that I struck a decent balance of alternate nights out, then chill.

So, where did I go and where were my car camping spots, and just to say…. There are a surprising number of people doing this and at no point whatsoever did I feel self conscious, unsafe, or unclean. Do your prep work, be sensible, plan a wee bit and you will be just reet. For example, it is possible to and I had (previously) procured both hair straighteners and a laptop charger that plug into a fag lighter. I could have packed my solar shower from Duggie to have given a guaranteed shower option but I didn’t feel that was necessary. Just know where there are beach showers and toilets e.g. Talamanca is the best, Playa D’en Bossa in front of the Bull Tavern and Playa Es Niu Bla (near Santa Eulalia) were my favourite spots. You even start to notice the same faces undertaking their evening personal care rituals. We smile in understanding, At PDB there is an elderly lady who sits on the bench watching you, which is rather unnerving. You have to just deal with it and get on with the job.

Night one, an opportunity to watch the master Sven Vath play at Akasha in San Carles (a venue I had not to date visited) but was so glad I did. Car parking cost 4 euros. I had only managed to secure a garden ticket which booted out at 11pm Too early to go ‘to bed’ and so I headed to Underground, again a place that in over 20 years I had not yet visited. But tonight the Romanians, more specifically Rhadoo were in charge , which couldn’t have been more up my musical street. I left early for the chance to reconnect with a friend whom I hadn’t seen since last october. It was a late night.

The next day I needed zen…..only one place for it…. Benirras. I can’t describe how much I adore this place, sunset and sunrise the same. Swimming au naturel as the sun set to the sound of the drumming. Striking up conversations with wacky and adorable randoms that enrich your life. I was lucky enough to experience both. Even though ‘camping’ is prohibited, there were plenty of characters doing it. Somehow being in a car made the potential accusation of ‘camping’ seem less risky. Note…. Take a neck pillow for the obvious and a sarong to block the sun out. I seriously had some of the best sleep this year in that Clio. As an aside, I was delighted this time that I didn’t have to grapple with the challenges of an unaccommodated number two (also see previous Ibiza vanping blog). Timings just seemed to work out better this time.

The following evening afforded more networking benefits… free entry to the very lovely Club Chinois (don't think anyone can actually pronounce the name properly) at Botafoch Marina in Ibiza town. That was an easy overnight parking choice, a short walk from the gravel car park at Talamanca and the ample facilities on the beach. Those who know me well know that I rarely strike up conversations when i’m out, i’m pretty closed and tend to just keep myself to myself and bop away. But this time, I had no choice, within minutes I'd been approached by a ‘good heart’.... El Valiente Guerrero, who became my companion for the rest of the evening, and i’m glad they did.

The following evening…. Chill…. Another favourite spot discovered on a previous vanping trip at Sa Caleta. A small parking area, But I was fortunate that someone was leaving…. And so I jumped right in. Perfect place to watch the sun go down. Plenty of campers. Some in cars but chose to sleep on the sunbeds in front of the fisherman's huts. I chose to stay in the car because the mossies were hungry that night.

The next day… my pal Jon arrived…. 24hrs only…. Because he is cool like that. Specifically for the absolutely stonking DC-10 Circo Loco line up that we planned to attend together, to include the splendid Keinemusik and Cairo. I can’t remember much of the night apart from my purse getting stolen…. Which was rather inconvenient I must say. Overnight in Playa D’en Bossa outside the Club Bahamas LOL. Again, I slept like a baby.

The next day ‘good heart’ and I went exploring. The intended Cala Comte was a no go, in fact everywhere was a damned no go. Too many pesky tourists, too many cars. We landed on Cala Tarida and escaped the crowds by scaling a fence down the cliffside and securing the most perfect private fisherman’s hut with terrace, great to take a refreshing plunge!

The trip was about to close. So where for the last, peaceful night, close to the airport? Even though there was a busy restaurant with some sort of art wanker event happening, they would clear off eventually, the extensive parking opportunities and presence of others doing the same thing made Es Bol Nou the right choice. Early (ish) to sleep… In my slumber I vaguely hear vehicles come and go. Upon waking in the morning I found I had a very close neighbour. I think he got the fright (or maybe pleasant surprise although I would question that with my typical waking state) of his life to find a body sleeping in the vehicle he had parked next to for his own sleep late at night. I wasn’t ready to converse, but he sure was. As I tried to make my excuses that I had to swim, pack my bag then catch a flight he seemed keen to keep that conversation flowing. Dammit, my lone sunrise swim was no more.

Whatshisface accompanied me down to the water. As I coyly slipped into my togs (for modesty purposes I had not planned it to be that way had I been alone) he proceeded to strip off stark bollock naked. As I swam, he persisted with the conversation , meaning that he kept getting closer and was most certainly invading my ‘dance space’. I managed to shake him for a bit whilst he stood there (no doubt pissing or fiddling with himself).... As I made moves to exit the sea… he pleaded… ‘Please can I have a little kiss?’... forward says I to myself, jumped about 20 bases there matey . No, says I. Go on, he says. No, I, Just a little says he. No, says I, and I exit. He pauses momentarily, then starts to exit himself. I am drying off. Go on, says he. 10/10 for persistence. He exits the water with a raging boner. Go on. NO says I. I think he got the message, and wandered off, tail between his legs literally and metophorically (once it had gone down). Hahahaha. What a random and surreal way to end the trip, mused I.