As for the holiday itself? Sasha had settled upon Ibiza, the Spanish party island as the destination very early on. There would be four of us in total - Al and Nat would be doing Ibiza with us, and were looking at incorporating the trip as part of a bigger holiday for each of themselves. So were we - Sasha and I had wanted to go to Barcelona for a while as we'd heard so much stuff about it, but also were toying with the idea of visiting Madrid as well. At one stage I was very keen to try and visit Portugal, another country we want to go to in the same overall trip, but when we started looking at the nitty gritty it would be trying to cram too much into the given time available. At Jeremy & Rachel's UK leaving party, we canvassed Jeremy about how much time to spend in each of either Madrid or Barcelona - we figured we had 5 days after Ibiza to visit both places. I recall Jeremy saying you could easily spend 4 days in Barcelona, but probably would be better spending 2 in Madrid and 3 in Barcelona. That aligned with our thinking as well.
Shortly after came the curveball. Nat, Sasha's former roommate was embarking on a big set of summer travels following Ibiza and straight after Ibiza was going to Seville and suggested we come along as well. Seville was not some place that had ever on our radar, it was not some place I'd ever heard of anyone we knew going to and I know I was dismissive of the idea - as neat as it would be to hang out with Nat for longer. However a week or thereabouts later, we were discussing future travel plans and ideas with our friend Cory when we mentioned about the Seville option - he immediately lit up and started telling us about his travels there, and how it was his favourite place in Spain. Better than Madrid or Barcelona, in his opinion - and worth spending a bit of time there, more than say the 2 days we'd allocated to Madrid. So we re-examined the Seville option, and discovered that it might actually be an interesting place to visit. How much time we'd spend in Seville was easy to fix - Nat was only going to spend two full days there before heading off on her way to Croatia, so we might as well stay for the same amount of time. But with the return date we had in mind, there would be no time to do both Madrid and Barcelona - it would be one or the other. Surely we'd bump Madrid? but was the remaining time adequate for Barcelona, the city everyone raves about? Might we be better off doing Madrid and leave Barcelona for a separate trip another time?
Our return date that we had in mind was a Sunday - the idea being that we would be ready and available in Berlin from the Monday to start jobs or interviews should we be lucky enough to secure them in that time, but I guess we were still in a mindset of having to be at work for the working week. But I was certain that if we didn't do Madrid this trip, we'd never visit it and equally I wasn't keen to try and bump Barcelona for another time at the possible expense of a future trip elsewhere. So I suggested to Sasha that perhaps we add a few more days to the trip and do them all - so what if we weren't back in Berlin for the Monday? Sasha agreed, and we started working on fleshing out the travel & accommodation details of this part of the trip (the Ibiza part having been locked in some time before). Nat provided her flight details to Seville so we could be on the same flight, and we worked on shared accommodation - and we got the word that Al was also keen to come to Seville as well so we would all be there. Nat had to change her flight to Croatia a day earlier thanks to the airlines, which meant she'd lose a day in Seville compared to what she had planned - Al planned to leave that same day too due to work commitments, meaning Sasha & I would be there for an extra night over everyone else before we headed off to Madrid. We looked at flights to Madrid, but there were high speed trains as well for around the same price - the train would be less faffing around, plus a chance to see the countryside. We'd get an afternoon in Madrid, followed by a full day and then move onto Barcelona. Flights to Barcelona were a bit pricey, but so were the high speed trains - there were slow trains but they'd take all day. In the end, fiddling with the train website we got ourselves decently priced tickets to Barcelona departing Madrid early-ish. I think we had hoped to head to Barcelona the night before so we'd have two full days there or close to and fly out on the night of the 2nd full day, but our time would now be reduced. So instead of flying out that Tuesday, we chose to fly out the Wednesday - giving ourselves effectively an extra day in Barcelona. It seemed like we would be able to fill it rather easily, going by what everyone had told us - sure, we'd have less time in Barcelona than we'd been recommended but it was better than no time at all.
Suddenly, we had ourselves almost 2 weeks of travels in Spain, travelling across large swathes of the mainland as well as visiting one of its islands. For me, there wasn't much time to get excited about the trip until we were already in Berlin and actually had time to think about it - prior to that, my mind was occupied with moving and packing!
So - how did it go?
Ibiza
Accommodation had been the first puzzle piece locked in for the holiday - Sasha had reserved accommodation at a place she'd found on Booking.com with a refundable deposit so that we'd at least have something locked in while shopping around for something better or cheaper. In the end, we never found anything better and so we stayed in a 2-bedroom apartment in a 5-storey building in Playa d'en Bossa, not the main town/city on Ibiza but one of the main areas. It was a bit dated in its decor, but was comfortable, functional and most importantly, we were able to stay cool in the apartment. There were two apartment blocks on the site, with a pool and a cafe in between them. It was also a block away from the main street in Playa d'en Bossa so with handy access to shops and things, and another block beyond that was the beach.
Travelling to Ibiza was accomplished by plane, flying directly there aboard an airline called Germania - an airline neither of us had heard of before, but some quick research showed that they were a reputable airline flying from Germany (mostly) to holiday destinations. They were also cheaper than any of the non-direct-flight options, but did require us to get up early in order to be at the airport the customary 2 hours before departure at 9.20am. All plane tickets included one checked bag - though Sasha and I chose to only take one checked bag between us and take our two smaller bags as hand luggage, which in a first for us was weighed at check-in. Not that we knew it at the time, but Germania has the lowest hand luggage weight limit I know of - only 6kg - and my bag just scraped in a 5.9kg, with Sasha's being less! The big purple backpack we checked had to be put in a big clear plastic bag and cable-tied shut, also something we'd never come across before. The flight itself was good, apart from a big veer to the left immediately upon take-off from Berlin which seemed rather unusual. Drinks and sandwiches were offered complimentary but on this occasion we declined as we were neither thirsty or hungry, and I had a window seat where I got a rather great view of the South-Eastern Ibiza coastline and the nearby Island of Majorca as we started descending for landing. Ibiza is a surprisingly busy place in terms of air traffic - probably one plane every 10 minutes taking off or landing during the main part of the day. All the planes were Boeing 737's or Airbus A320/321's, I never spotted anything bigger but there were a few smaller ATR's, rear-engined Bombardier CRJ's and the occasional private plane. Transport on Ibiza itself was straightforward - either we walked, or we caught Taxi's which were never any more than €10-15.
A quick rundown of Ibiza - it is a Spanish Island in the Mediterranean Sea, which forms one of the 4 Balearic Islands along with the larger Majorca and Minorca, and the smaller Formentera. These 4 Islands are roughly located east from Valencia and Alicante, and south of Barcelona. Arguably Ibiza is the most popular and famous of the 4, known for its party culture. We were there technically just before the main summer party scene kicked into life for the year, although a lot of it had already begun. The main town/city on the Island is the descriptively named Ibiza Town, which is the main shipping and passenger port on the Island with ferries to Majorca, Formentera, Valencia and Barcelona amongst other destinations. The airport is to the south, and in between the airport and Ibiza Town is the area called Playa d'en Bossa, where we stayed. Although there are are other towns on the Island, most notably Sant Antoni on the North Western site of the Island, basically Ibiza Town and Playa d'en Bossa are the main places.
Playa d'en Bossa is basically a continuation of Ibiza Town to the south along the coast, but is considered separate and has the biggest beach area of any of the towns. Probably because of that, a lot of tourists stay or spend their time in Playa d'en Bossa and the main street there is very touristy - convenience stores, restaurants and takeaway food places, large shops selling virtually everything and anything you might want and also places selling tickets for the clubs or events. There are some supermarkets too, but they were a bit further afield - but it was necessary to find them as they were the only places that sold water in large bottles. Ibiza, much like the Canary Islands, has few natural water sources so has to use Desalinization Plants to convert sea water to fresh. This process is not very perfect, and the tap water tastes quite salty (but is safe to drink). Because of its popularity, there are a lot of hi-rise buildings that are either hotels or some form of accommodation in Playa d'en Bossa rather than just single-storey dwellings or accommodation.
We only spent time in Playa d'en Bossa or Ibiza Town (with one exception, I'll talk about that later) and never explored the rest of the Island's towns or interior. There is some stuff to see apparently, but that's not why we were there and it wasn't of sufficient interest to draw us to go there. Ibiza Town was rather nice, and a nice change from Playa d'en Bossa - apart from being not heavily touristy, it also had the walled Old Town up on the hill overlooking the Port which is a Unesco World Heritage site (but in Europe, there can't be much of anything old that isn't!). On the Sunday we took a walk from Playa d'en Bossa along the beach and then up the hill to the Old Town, passing through some dirt paths on which we found some gecko's and also a road tunnel before reaching the summit and the town. We had a look around and actually got a tad lost while trying to look for a particular lunch venue before we discovered it was actually outside the Old City - then it was a matter of figuring out how to get out and down! Later we went to the wharf area (where we arrived just in time to see no less than 4 fast ferries, each of a decent size, all from competing companies all depart at the same time for the nearby Island of Formentera!) before due to Al having blisters, we caught a taxi back to one of the beach areas we'd walked past earlier in the day and had a swim, before later going back to the apartment.
I should start this one off by referencing Ibiza's party reputation - I'm sure I'm not alone in that my perception of Ibiza was one where it was the playground of those in their late teens to late 20's/early 30's, where everyone parties all the time in amongst the clubs and bars covering the Island. Sure, there are beaches which people use, but most people would probably party all night, sleep all day or even party all day and never have a chance to hit the beach for much if any time. The beaches of Ibiza, particularly in such a touristy and popular spot as Playa d'en Bossa, proved to be the ideal place to alter or outright debunk various perceptions I had. During the day, in the bright and hot sunshine - but not overly hot, it was always somewhere between 25 or 30 degrees - the beaches were full of people. Not to the extent that there was no patch of sand left uncovered (for all I know it might actually get that way in the full height of the season), but there was a decent amount of people at the beach. Spending time at the beach helped you realise that the age cross-section of Ibiza tourist was actually far larger than I thought - and the late-teens-to-mid-twenties demographic was probably one of the minority demographics. Instead, I would put the most common age bracket as somewhere between late-twenties to mid-to-late 40's but there were people who were clearly in the late-50's/mid-60's age bracket, and there was a decent amount of them too. No matter the ages though, all demographics tended to act the same and partake in the same activities - age is seemingly no barrier to being in Ibiza.
Sitting on the beach wasn't necessarily relaxing either, as there were often lots of people coming up to you trying to sell you things - either people from clubs or bars, boat party's or events who were trying to sell you tickets to their events or hand out leaflets/wristbands for free entry to their particular club/party; or the "street sellers" who would be carrying and wearing lots of sunglasses, hats or selfie sticks (usually all 3) trying to sell you something. You always ignored the street sellers, some of the other salespeople were good and went away when you said you weren't interested or that you'd already been the night before but others didn't take no for an answer straight away. Usually, we'd end up leaving the beach after a certain amount of time as we were fed up with these salespeople but mostly, we'd get too hot on the beach as there was no shade (unless you rented an umbrella, not for cheap either). I'm personally not one for sitting on a beach sunbathing as I get uncomfortable in the heat, and it would seem I wasn't the only one in our group to feel that way.
Lastly, on this rather long topic of the beach - there was more than just swimming to do at the beach, you could hire pedal-powered paddle boats with their own in-built water slides, ride behind a motorboat towing a raft of some kind - most popular seemed to be a "banana" - or even hire a jetski for a buzz up and down the beach. Al hired a jetski for 15min and buzzed up and down at quite some speed while we watched from the beach, but we all rode behind a motorboat towing one of the rafts. Before Al & Nat had arrived, Sasha and I had seen two people being towed on what for all the world looked like an inflatable couch - I started calling it the "seacouch". It looked a lot more fun and challenging than the banana, and so we all decided to go for a ride on the seacouch. It sat all 4 of us, with Al & I on the ends and Sasha and Nat in the middle two seats. What followed was an exhilarating, bumpy ride being pulled at speed out in the sea up and down the beach - every time the seacouch crossed the motorboat's wake the couch bumped and lurched into the air, and we'd get tossed around while holding on for dear life. None of us wanted to be the first one to be thrown off or fall off, and the boat driver kept upping the ante to try and dislodge one of us - at one stage the couch lurched into the air and landed in such a way that it almost flipped, but no one fell off and we all survived until the end! The operators had been right though, if we'd had out our waterproof/GoPro cameras we'd have either bashed someone in the face with them, lost them outright, or fallen off if we'd attempted taking a photo. We talked about doing it again another day until Sasha's bruises came up on her still-painful hands - where her handgrip-rungs had been was next to mine and Nat's, and on Sasha's hands were bruise marks in the shape of our respective clenched hands where they'd been unwittingly bashing into Sasha's. Nat had a similar bruise from Sasha but I didn't exhibit any bruises or pain, but Sasha's hand that had been next to mine was by far the worse of the two! Sasha's hands would be too sore to hold onto the rungs effectively a next time, let alone take a similar amount of knocking from other hands bashing into them. As it was, we never saw any other groups of 4 ride the seacouch but we did see some groups of 2 - and yes, we saw people falling off!
This was Sasha's birthday celebration after all, and part of the whole point of going to Ibiza was to experience at least a club. I wasn't entirely sure what to expect - in my minds eye, I had a large indoor venue, flashing coloured lights and probably strobes with a bunch of people partying to the music (probably electronica-style music) played by a DJ up the front. Some Britbound friends of ours had gone to Ibiza about 3 weeks before we did, staying somewhere else on the island and they'd gone to one of the Ibiza Clubs but apparently they were a bit disappointed as the crowd wasn't dancing much - either everyone wasn't really into it, or they were off their faces on drugs was their consensus. Just as an aside, when they went it was when London was having some of its 10 days of summer and it was actually warmer in London than it was in Ibiza! Also, we were in Ibiza technically just before the summer season kicks into gear with a lot of the big clubs not starting up with their big acts until the week after. One other point - the only way to party during the day was to go on one of the Boat Cruises to Formentera, there were no Clubs that were open during the day. While on the surface the boat parties sounded appealing, when you read the detail the "Unlimited Free Drinks" don't start until the boat gets to Formentera, the boat anchors offshore from Formentera so you can't go ashore any time during the 3 hours you're there, and the travel time is 2 hours each way so that's 4 hours out of 7 where the "Unlimited Free Drinks" doesn't apply but you can buy them. The boats were Fullers Ferry-sized craft so probably a bit cramped to be on for 7 hours.
On the Friday while Sasha and I were wandering around and waiting for Al & Nat to arrive on their late flight, we saw advertising for the opening night for one of the bigger clubs for Saturday, Ushuaia which just happened to be located in Playa d'en Bossa. The 'show', was titled "ANTS" and had a number of different DJ artists - including Groove Armada, who I'd heard of. On the Saturday a lot of people on the beaches or elsewhere were trying to peddle either tickets to ANTS or combination packages with ANTS tickets and drinks packages elsewhere, but we decided to get the tickets by themselves from a ticket stall along the main street (RRP being €50, but we got them for €35). The event started about 3pm in the afternoon, but everyone was saying don't go there for the start, go much later on when the main headline acts would be on. There was no published schedule as to who might be on when, so you had to use your judgement. We made our way there about 7.30pm, handed over our tickets and went in - and once you were in, there would be no re-entry after leaving. Ushuaia was not the club I had in my minds eye - in fact it was nothing like it. Imagine a large open-air courtyard in between 3 or 4-storeyed motel/hotel rooms which faced the courtyard on all sides, a stage at one end, a pool or two in the middle of the courtyard, what looked a bit like a small carpark building that seemed to be a bar/restaurant with the top level another bar area and that is pretty much what Ushiaia was. Everyone was at one end of the courtyard, near a sort of white control cabin which was where some DJ's were playing their set from. It was also unusually crowded - but this was because half the courtyard area was off-limits, until about 20mins after our arrival and then they opened it up. No one was allowed in the pool, but there was a small paddling pool area by the white control box which people were wading in. When I say everyone, I mean the people who were in the courtyard - there were people in the carpark-like building and then of course there were those who must have paid megabucks for the accommodation rooms surrounding Ushuaia who were watching from their balconies. Most of the people watching from balconies were older, but not all.
So without question, Pacha was our best club experience - the Blue Marlin didn't really count but it was of interest, and Ushuaia was different. In all places, people of all ages were there - another example of "all demographics tended to act the same and partake in the same activities" and yes, they were partying as hard as everyone else. As Sasha put it, the fewer younger people there came from wealthy backgrounds, our demographic were there because they finally could afford to go, and the older demographic were either reliving past adventures, had been coming to Ibiza for years or were coming to see what the fuss was finally about after the children had left home and let their hair down.
As for the drink - well for the most part we ended up drinking a lot of Sangria, as sharing a pitcher between us four tended to be a very economical option. But there were cocktails to be had as well (I think I stuck with either Long Island Ice Teas or Mojitos) and also the occasional Cava Sangria (Sangria with the red wine substituted for Champagne/Prosecco bubbly white wine). Not all the drinking was done out, with various drinks (including Sangria) being consumed at the apartment. Sasha and I had visited a liquor store on the first day and gotten some supplies, but found at least one of the wines we bought was corked (the one I chose, so my fault) and the bottle of vodka went slushy in the freezer - its not meant to do that, obviously a watered down type of vodka! Just as well all of that had been cheap I guess. Also turns out the more expensive store-bought Sangria bottles are no different in taste than the cheaper store-bought ones, but getting proper made Sangria out was always far nicer. We always added fruit to the store-bought Sangria as well, as you do to the real stuff. But it wasn't all alcohol however - there was orange juice, all the water we bought and drank from the big water bottles and of course the occasional fizzy drink.
In all, I hope the above gives you a good idea of what we did, what we found and encountered and the sort of time we had - which was a lot of fun. It is not a place to chill out and relax, it might be a place to chill for a while and then go do some activity but there is a definite bustle to the place. It is not exclusively a party place either, and it is a place for all ages. Its quite pretty too, but it doesn't have a unique charm - in some ways its a bit generic, in others touristy but boy did we have one fun experience in Ibiza over the 4-5 days we were there. As far as 30th Birthdays go, I think Sasha had a rather fun and memorable one!
Seville
On the Tuesday, having all had various degrees of not-enough-sleep after partying at Pasha, we all flew out of Ibiza to Seville. We flew an airline called Vueling, which is the budget arm of Spanish airline Iberia - very much a Jetstar/Qantas type relationship between the two. Sasha had been booked on a Vueling flight during her "Summer of Fun" 5-week trip last year which got cancelled 2 days before it was due to depart, forcing her to rebook at horrendous expense on another airline - Vueling have a bit of a reputation for that. So we were a bit hesitant about it, but 2 days out there was no email to say it was cancelled and the plane showed up at the gate and delivered us to Seville. The flight was pleasant enough, although the seat spacing seemed to be the closest I've ever come across and my knees were hard up against the seat in front without even trying. Hopping off the plane and into the airbridge was a shock though, as it was at least 15 degrees if not more hotter in the airbridge and you felt the wave of heat as you hopped out of the plane door. Seville was hot - it was 35 degrees. Once we got our bags and left the terminal, we hopped in a tax to go to our Airbnb accommodation. We gave the driver the piece of paper with the address, he looked at it, said something in Spanish and he wandered off - this was just like when I had arrived in the Canary Islands, and in both cases the driver didn't know where to go and had to get directions from fellow drivers. He did indeed manage to deliver us to our accommodation, but we had a bit of a wait in the sun of maybe 10 minutes before someone came with the keys to let us in. We were staying in an apartment on the 6th floor, just outside of the CBD area - we'd been led to believe it was closer to all the main stuff than it was, but not matter it would do. The man who let us in and explained everything wasn't the owner, but an acquaintance of his and his English a bit rudementary but we got there. First things first was turning on the aircon, which was set to 18 degrees and left running for the entire time we were there.
The plan for this day was fairly straightforward - we would go do the free walking tour in the morning, and whatever took our fancy in the afternoon. Seville didn't have a Sandeman's free walking tour but there was another company called Pancho Tours which did them, so we showed up at the square next to the Cathedral at the appointed time and signed on for the tour - after of course getting breakfast on our way, which was a delicious and cheap Spanish breakfast "Andalucian Style" with bread, tomato and ham, with a coffee and orange juice for a rather cheap price. Our tour guide was a bit softly spoken so we had to stand close to hear him. He started off by giving us a rundown of Seville's history - it had been founded by Romans under the name Hispalis and was chosen because of its good location on the river, but was conquered by Muslims in the 700's who came from Morocco and called it Ishbiliya. It stayed under varying Arab rule until the Muslims were pushed out by the Spanish Kingdom in the 1200's. The Giralda, the belltower attached to the Cathedral attested to this history as the base of it was large Roman-style blocks (just like the rest of the Cathedral), but it then became smaller bricks in a very Arab style of decoration - presumably the tower was used as a minaret when it was a Muslim temple. The very top though was a Catholic style from when the Spanish had thrown out the Muslims and put bells in the top of the tower. We were also told a lot of Spanish words have their routes in Arabic from the Muslim period, and while the word for river in Spanish is Rio, in Arabic it is Gua - and a lot of rivers or place names still retain the Gua- part of their name, so the river that runs through Seville was the Rio Guadalquivir. Another example of this is the Spanish place of Guadacanal, which apparently translates to "River of excrement" and was so named because the water was brown and resembled, well, poop. We were shown one of the entrances to the Cathedral, which was in an Arab-style and we were told there were Arabic descriptions on the door design praising Allah, but because the conquering Spanish ruler didn't read Arabic he thought they were just part of the door's intricate decorative patternwork and so they survived. Further along was ancient graffiti - people's names written on the Cathedral wall, in blood. It was a form of advertising and was done with bull's blood, and had only been revealed when the walls of the Cathedral were cleaned up and had centuries of grime removed.
Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.
I'd lost my camera. My good, Nikon camera. Again. For the second time in a month, in fact - and this was the replacement for the last one lost 4 weeks earlier. Needless to say, I was not happy with myself.
I woke up and found that Nat had successfully left in the wee small hours of the morning without me waking up and hearing her - she was off to Croatia. Al was leaving us this day too, but not until later in the day. After a big sleep in for all of us (and no sore heads amongst any of us), after we'd all showered we headed off into the city to find a recommended breakfast place to eat at. It took us a few goes as the directions weren't great but we found it, and we all ended up getting the Andalucian breakfast with a coffee but no orange juice. Later, once we'd finished breakfast and our coffees but weren't ready to move on yet, we had a jug of Sangria to share before we made our way back to the apartment and Al got ready to leave, before well, leaving! We didn't really feel like doing too much or seeing anything else, but one thing we did decide to do was go to the police station we'd seen the night previously and register my camera as lost/stolen (it had been closed when we went past). This was Nat's suggestion, and while I felt like it was futile it would have the advantage of producing verified documentation from the Spanish Police that I could present to my Travel Insurance provider in order to lodge a claim. So we set out for this Police Station, getting Tapas for lunch along the way (choosing a set menu list of tapas to share, and a beer each) and eventually we arrived at the Police Station where I explained what I was there for. I was told to go to a nearby phone and pick it up - that was the only instruction. So I did, it started ringing, it started saying a lot of stuff in Spanish and then suddenly "For English, Press 2" which I did. I was connected to someone who spoke English, and went through the process of answering their questions and providing the details. Once that was over, I was told to hang up and tell the Officer on reception an incident code - he then went away and told me to sit and wait. I wasn't waiting very long before I was called into an office, where an officer with basic but functional English asked me a few more questions, printed out the report, had me check to see it was accurate and then I signed it. He also signed it, stamped it and that was it - I could go.
Our last day in Seville - or more accurately, our last morning. It was spent packing up the last of our stuff, making sure everything in the apartment was as it should be, and then we left with our luggage and ventured a block away to a cafe and had a slightly later breakfast - yes, Spanish breakfast once again, with the ham & tomato toastie, orange juice and a coffee. After breakfast, we gathered our bags and struck out for the Santa Justa train station which was perhaps a 20 minute walk - distance wise it was closer than the main city, but with our bags in tow it made us a bit slower. We arrived at the station a good hour before our train was due to leave, and half an hour of that time was spent perusing the shops and other facets of the station. About 12.15pm, half an hour before our departure time I notice our train on the board is flashing - that seemed to indicate a train was boarding, so I did a quick recce to see if this was the case. Yes, it was - we could go hop on the train already. Our tickets were checked at the top of the escalator, down we went, put our bags through the security scanner and then showed our tickets to a man in a booth and proceeded towards our carriage (down the further end of our train) and boarded.
To Be Continued...