End of Ibiza

Photo courtesy of Fleur

 After our gorgeous beach day in Ibiza the weather turned cold.  Well, not that cold, but too cold for sitting on a breezy beach.  Instead, Fleur and I took the bus to the far side of the island (again) to see Ibiza town.  Apparently it's a UNESCO world heritage site, just like Salzburg, so I was excited to see what it had to offer.  Though it was gorgeous, I'm a little sad to say that the clubbing atmosphere kind of overshadowed the culture of it all.  There would be gorgeous old parts of the town that, upon closer examination, housed night clubs.  Still, Ibiza town is like nowhere I've ever been before.  There is a fortress (much like Salzburg's) that overlooks the city's red tile roofs and whitewashed houses.  It reminded me of a mixture of Mexico/the American Southwest and Santorini.  

Fleur and I had to take the local bus to get to the other side of the island.  In Ibiza (and Spain in general?) you have to flag down the bus, otherwise it will drive away without you.  And once you're on the bus it is highly likely that you will miss your stop.  Thank goodness our stop was the last one on the line, otherwise we would have just ridden around forever and not known where to get off.  But we figured it out just fine.  We wandered the lower part of the city, for a while, then hiked up to the fortress at the top after a very Spanish lunch of pizza.  When the weather turned cold and drizzly, Fleur and I walked back down to the lower part of the city and explored the shop-lined streets until we found a cozy place to sit outside under a heat lamp and enjoy a pitcher of sangria. 

Fisherman statue that reminded me of the one in Gloucester

Ibiza harbor

Fleur really likes the ocean

Ibiza streets

Waiting for our pizza lunch

The gate to the fortress

        

View on the way up to the fortress

Fleur, enjoying the ocean view

View of the city from the fortress

Cannon!

Old city walls

Fleur and I played on a playground like little kids for a significant amount of time on our way down from the fortress

Enjoying our sangria

 

Our last day dawned bright and beautiful.  Too bad we had to spend it traveling back to Madrid. 

Boats on the beach at Sant Antonio's port

Admittedly not Ibiza.  Fleur and I got back to Alcala (just outside of Madrid, where she was studying) and stumbled upon a Good Friday procession, complete with people carrying this kind of thing.  Lots of these had my-size-barbie-type figures of the Virgin Mary.  And people wore purple pointed hood/masks and long robes.  Google 'Good Friday Spain' to see why I felt a little uncomfortable.