IBIZA
My last visit to Ibiza was in the 90's, a time for me of sun, sea and loads of disco dancing. Oh and sunburn. Always sunburn. The madness of clubs, strange potions provided to drink, swimming pools and bulls running around are my memories. I haven't been back until last year when the amazing Katie Saxby invited me and a group of her friends to take up a villa for a week in the sun.
Our wanders around the Old Town brought back soo many memories. The amazing light and warmth of the days gave me the head space to read for the first time in ages. It seems I can only really read books when I go abroad, here at home, in London I very rarely read. Not good and something I must change.
One thing I had forgotten was just how beautiful Ibiza is. The tiny threads of paths inbetween buildings that snake up the steepest of hills to the church on the top that over looks the town beneath. The life that is suspended above our heads in the many apartments that house tourists, artists and local town folk.
The neverending promotion of bars, clubs and restuarants on practically any open space tempting the tourist to spend, drink and disco dance and in the morning seek out food to cure their hangovers.
The colours and natural designs jump out against the bright white walls making the most simplest sign and pot, glamorous and inviting.
I loved every moment of my time in Ibiza, then and now.
