Everyone says the same thing when you tell them you’re going to Ibiza.
First they sing that song by the Vengaboys. You know, that song.
Then they say, like it’s the funniest thing in the world to suggest to me, “Clubbing?”
Clubbing? Moi? Come on – the clubs don’t even open until midnight. Midnight! I’d have to get up again for a start. And the songs don’t have words in them. And call that a tune?
Wait, come back everyone under 30. Sorry about that. There’s a travel story in here somewhere.
And the story is – that, of course, there’s a whole other side to Ibiza. None of the clubs – for which the island is famous – opens much before May, which means that for five or six months of the year Ibiza gently rocks to a more traditional Balearic beat.
A March visit saw the weather hold at a steady 70 degrees, with the beaches largely deserted and Ibiza old town still shuttered against the winter squalls. There were few tourists in the local market, while buses out to the outlying villages carried schoolkids and grandmas – sailing past the out-of-town super-clubs like Privilege, whose gates were firmly locked, last year’s DJ posters unfurling from the billboards.
The trees were full of oranges; hidden courtyards opened up off white-painted streets; castle ramparts marched across piercingly blue skies, while a gentle ocean breeze ruffled slopes of wild oregano.
We tried to think of three words that characterised out-of-season Ibiza and came up with – tasty, surprising and blue.
To find out why, watch the video – and enjoy the sight of a Mediterranean island just waking up for the summer, rinsing the sleep out of its eyes and getting ready for a long night on the dancefloor.