View from the (Ibiza) Villa

Mallorca-London-Ibiza-London

2009-07-02T14:47:00.008+01:00

Or Mal-lo-ib-don if I had pretensions to write for the Times!

Worramionabout? My new shoes, that's what.

You may know that we're going to England in October and I've already been fretting over what to pack. The thorny problem of shoes reared it's ugly head - wet winter conditions in the Yewkay in October will lead to my leather soled brogues just sucking up water from the flooded streets and probably leave me with a nasty case of trench foot again.

So what to do. First thought was a pair of Docs, but all the reviews on Amazon suggest that Thai manufacturers skimp on build quality and size. So I'm not buying without trying.

Amazon do Campers so I bought a pair. Made in Inca (think Warrington) in Mallorca, they're going all the way to Schuh HQ in fancy London town and then being posted out to me in Ibiza - a round trip of around 2000 miles to cover an as-the-crow-flies journey of around 100 miles. (guestimated figures)

Ironically, they're costing around €30 less than if I'd driven 13 km into Ibiza town to buy some in a shop.

Ibiza Soundrack

2009-06-21T12:37:00.004+01:00

We all know what a soundtrack is in English. It's the music that accompanies a film to let us know when a scary bit is coming up, a comedy chase is in progress, or someone is being stabbed in a shower.

In Spanish it's called a banda sonora. That's also the term for those strips that go across a road in an attempt to slow down speeding motorists by making a loud noise as th etyres hit them. When we lived in Cala de Bou there was a lad driving a yellow Beamer who, if he hit 187kph along the Es Puet road could actually play La Cucaracha on the Bandas Sonoras!

In San Antonio on c/Ramon y Cajal they've got whopping big 'sleeping policemen' which are real suspension testers as they're high, and wide enough to house a zebra crossing.

Just by chance the other day as I was negotiating the street, in a perfect Ibiza moment, this came on my mp3 soundtrack in the car.

El Sexto Sentido

2009-06-18T15:55:00.007+01:00

It means 6th sense. We had a washing machine delivered today that purports to have it. The blokes who brought it did not. Uncannily they managed to ring to find out where I lived just after I left the house to take the rubbish out - I had a feeling they would, because I left a detailed map for them.

For some reason they were looking for a bus stop by which they could locate us, no idea why, because neither map nor directions mentioned the word bus or stop.

Anyway, in a completely unconnected change of direction, we've been getting ready for summer, teak oiling, linseed oiling, baby oiling and generally putting things in order.

So, from the top, let the Ibiza cliches commence.

Sa Talaia from the Bar in the Sky

Chiringuito el Cielo lounge lounge

Lounge pod with bamboo poles

Yoga platform with Buddha and bamboo poles

I reckon I could get into The Times women's supplement if I was 30 years younger!

Top Teak Tips

2009-06-16T10:01:00.004+01:00

I never imagined whilst mis-spending my youth watching Barry Bucknall knocking out Victorian feature fireplaces and covering up Georgian doors with plywood that any of this accumulated knowledge would come in handy in Ibiza.

I was right. Barry's hints and tips for late 50's Britishers (the date not the age) never included anything about teak sunloungers, as back then there was no sunbathing allowed - something to do with sun cream being rationed, I think.

So, here's my tip. If your teak sunlounger is looking a bit grubby and needs a new coat of teak oil, give it a good scrub with a solution of hot water, salt and fairy liquid. rinse it down, let it dry, wipe it and then Voila, teak oil here we come.

View from the Ibiza Office

2009-06-11T15:07:00.004+01:00

Remember our version of Ibiza Grand Designs? When we had just 3 days to convert our basement into a luxury underground loft style office/lounge/kitchen/diner?? Remember, last March when we started and now it's the midle of June?

Well, we're almost finished, just a few tiles to go on the kitchen wall and we're there!

We had the new lighting system installed yesterday, and the new mirror put on the wall. Jaki snapped my reflection giving handyman Handy Andy some more instructions from the comfort of my executive chair.

A Million to One Chance

2009-06-11T14:56:00.003+01:00

Unbelievable! I said I'd never ever use that word in Ibiza again, as the unbelievable happens so often that it's the norm. Anyway, by an unbelievable twist of fate, stage two of our 25th anniversary trip to the 'Yewkay' takes in a few days in Manchester and guess what's happening while we're there?Yes, the Super League Grand Final at Old Trafford! I wonder if St. Helens will be there and if it will rain? No, that's a daft question, of course it will rain.

San Jose Street View

2009-06-08T12:14:00.013+01:00

The Google street view car paid an imaginary visit to our area yesterday and I've used some of the photos they took to illustrate the every day battles against the forces of stupidity and ignorance that we have to fight. Here's the 360 degree view

From the top
To your right - the car park

Behind you - the pedestrian lane
To your left - the road which connects the main San Antonio to Ibiza road to the Avenida Es Cubells via the town hall and the car park
To your right - the street which leads to a goat farm

So which of these streets do you think the council has chosen to prohibit parking on? Well obviously not the car park or pedestrianised steet, so top favourite would be the one packed with cars and lots of traffic from the main roads, yes?

Err, no. They've chosen to stop all cars (ie mine) from parking up a lane which goes nowhere other than to the houses of a few Ibicencos who are on the neighbours association of the town.

To show how well the money is being spent, we've had 3 seperate visits from the lads on project 'make life difficult for everyone who isn't an Ibicenco'

1. to paint the yellow lines

2. to paint the stop sign

3 to erect the stop sign

Good arrows lads!

Ibiza Gardening Club

2009-06-07T16:09:00.003+01:00

Isn't it incredible how nature can mimic the works of man? Every time I've been to Barcelona and stared up at Gaudi's Sagrada Familia and its 12 spires I always thought it looked similar to something else I'd seen. It dawned on me the other day that a succulent in our garden had grown just like it, like they had been seperated at birth.

Sagrada Famila Sagrada Succulent

Ibiza Passion

2009-06-06T07:55:00.006+01:00

Jaki will confirm that I'm a passionate sort of bloke. Passionate about St. Helens RLFC that is! Unfortunately, Ibiza blogging rules forbid me from going into print about anything happening outside the island, so I'm going to change the subject completely.

Passion Fruit.

I've got tons growing in my Ibiza garden! Not only is the flower spectacularly beautiful, but the fruit is deliciously edible. Not only is it edible, but it's also a mild sedative beloved of Brazilian mums with hyperactive kids, who would give the brats a couple of shots of fruit juice to calm them down for the day.

As a man that lives life at a "Monarch of the Glen" pace, a much needed passion booster would slow me down to a dead stop - or "Heartbeat" as it is known round here

Ibiza Check In

2009-06-05T11:06:00.006+01:00

Every so often, if I've not heard from the old people in St. Helens, I get them to check in with me via email to ensure that they're both not lying dead of Diogenes Syndrome behind the front door.

As I've not checked in blogwise for some while I thought I'd proffer some proof of my continued existence by publishing a photo of a kitten. She's one of the litter born in our cactus patch and now living in German occupied territory across the road.

Known to us as Tiny Tillie, the Germans have called her Llum, which means light in Catalan.

Whilst I've not followed the family tradition of being dead behind the front door, I have followed the one of having an MRI scan. If ever you can't afford to get in Space for a Carl Cox session, just nip down to the clinic for a scan, the loud bleeps are pretty much identical to Carl's well planned electronica.

Marli had a brush with death herself yesterday. A shower, or death by a thousand clean water droplets as it is known around here. Here's a photo of her cartoon like claw marks scraping over the decking as I dragged her back to the torture chamber, or shower as it is known round here.

Driving in Ibiza

2009-05-20T17:54:00.004+01:00

I said when they tarmacced our street that it would turn into a racetack for speeding drivers. I was right!

The Times they are a-changin' agin!

2009-05-20T08:25:00.009+01:00

Come mothers and fathers

Throughout the land

And don't criticize

What you can't understand

Your sons and your daughters

Are beyond your command

Your old road is

Rapidly agin'

Please get out of the new one

If you can't lend your hand

For the times they are a-changin'.

Combining filial and work duties yesterday I took the old'uns on a tour while I took photos. We called in at Cala Mastella to have a look at the 'Bigote' restaurant featured in the Times' article the other day.

I've made a reservation for Friday lunch

From the top: Cala Mastella beach, the little harbour, the restaurant, the kitchen and the view.

Ibiza: The Times they are A-changin'

2009-05-17T10:04:00.005+01:00

They certainly are too! It's not often I can boast that I've actually been in an Ibiza place as recommended by The Times, but now I can.

The Article and blurb is

Insiders' guide: Ibiza on a budget
The jetset may have pushed the prices up, but you can still have fun without breaking the bank. Six island insiders show you how

Anyway, one of the places is Destino, just down the lane from us, and coincidentally, where we dined with my parents on Thursday night.

The old codger opined that he always feels like he's in real Spain when eating at Destino. The irony of his statement is that other than its position in a Spanish village and two waitresses who are Spanish, Destino could be in an affluent suburb of Frankfurt!

Its owner is German/Moroccan, its chef Brazilian, its customers affluent Boho northern Europeans and its food North African/Pacific rim fusion.

I like it very much! Allow €25 a person for a right good stuffing with wine.

Blogs, Beer and Rulers of the Known World

2009-05-16T16:04:00.003+01:00

Hands up if you thought Spanish beer was all just like sweet-toothed girlie fave San Miguel. Fortunately, there are alternatives for non-southern shandy drinking softies, as my tales of Alhambra drinking demonstrate, and I discovered yet another one yesterday.

It's Yuste Belgian style beer, produced by monks in the monastery of the same name and weighing in with a beefy 6.5% alcohol content. Recommended by its brewers as a fine drink to accompany game dishes, I personally recommend Papas Vicente crisps, whose only ingredients are potatoes and oil, as a fine snack to accompany this beer.

So, what's it got to do with rulers of the known world? Well, our old blog friend, Chinful Charles V, used to live at this monastery after he took early retirement and a lump sum from being Holy Roman Emperor, and he sorted the monks out with brewing rights. And why is it Belgian style beer? Well, the Netherlands at that time were part of the Hapsburg Empire and ruled by Spain.

Ibiza Summer Swimming

2009-05-10T21:20:00.004+01:00

Chalk it up! Today, 10.5.09 I went into the pool for the first time this year. It served as a pre-match warm up and gave me an appetite for the second BBQ of the year.A fab boned leg of lamb from our local butcher. This was about a third of it that was left in the freezer from before our holidays

Ibiza Summer Sailing

2009-05-10T17:11:00.004+01:00

Summer's here and the shade sails are up in the side garden. Well, almost, because a shortage of rope to secure my triangular sail has left it billowing under the square sail.

I couldn't get any suitable rope in the village so Jaki suggested I use some of her garden twine. It was totally inadequate for the job and would have snapped in twain should a gentle zephyr or force 1 gale have blown up over the field.

I was surprised at her lack of knowledge in this matter as her favourite programme at the moment is Hornblower and I'd seen her sit through Hero Horatio's frigging in the rigging of a captured French Corvette only yesterday.

Alpujarras: Suspiro del Moro

2009-05-03T09:23:00.005+01:00

Once upon a time in the deep south of Spain lived a Moorish king, Boabdil. He lived a life of luxury and Riley in the Alhambra Palace from where he ruled the last bastion of the Moors – the kingdom of Granada (today's Granada, Malaga and Almeria)

Obviously, the Spanish Catholic rulers, who'd just spent the last few hundred years trying to reconquer the country in the name of Christianity were a bit razzed off that there were still Moors about swanning around like they owned the place.

So in 1491 they blockaded Granada from their nearby HQ Santa Fe (where Christopher Columbus was given the go ahead for the catholic conquest of America.) Anyway after 18 months Boabdil gave up, handed over the keys to Ferdinand and Isabella and with much wailing for joy, the cross replaced the crescent moon on the Alhambra.

Boabdil hands over the keys to Granada to Ferdinand and Isabella

In return for his cooperation in not coming out for a scrap in the pub car park with the Catholics, Boabdil was given land in the Alpujarras. On his way there, going through a mountain pass, he turned to look back at Granada and his pleasure palace and sighed deeply. His mother, ever one with a cheery repost, retorted,

"Now you weep like a woman over what you could not defend as a man."

because she obviously had the better plan of going out and nagging to death the half a million Catholics camped outside the city walls.

To this day, this mountain pass is called Suspiro del Moro, (the Moor's Sigh) and it even has its own motorway signs.

And to finish this tale, when I related the story of our visit to the Alhambra (when we couldn't get in because the queue resembled the besieging Catholic armies in size and number) to my mother who had actually been, her cheery summing up of hundreds of years' worth of Moorish architecture was,

“you've missed nowt.”

Furry First XI

2009-05-02T17:43:00.004+01:00

You'd be forgiven for thinking that we were trying to start a feline football team in our house. Our Ibiza Villa was home to 11 furry friends last week. Our permanent five-a-side team, Spook, Charlie, Mouse, Flossie and Tillie were joined by one of the feral cats, Baby Bear Head who gave birth to four little kittens and Little Black Coal Face who we captured in a trap ready to go off to the vets to be spayed.

Here are the kittens

Mum's now moved them off to another place and Coal Face had a successful op and is now back on the street.

Alpujarras Trip: Observations, Tips, Advice and Opinion

2009-05-02T17:03:00.006+01:00

A personal narrative containing things we learned and things we didn't from our trip to the Alpujarras in Granada province.

The Alpujarras was, not that long ago, Spain's poorest area, and the one where the Moors stayed longest - I think they were finally shown the puerta in 1609.

So in no particular order here we go.

Nerja: The town obviously had its traffic sign budget slashed by 50% just as they were starting to put the signs on the 700 roundabouts in the town. The solution to get where you want is to drive 360 degrees round the roundabout so you'll see the signs which are visible form only one direction.

Spanish towns and cities: A general rule I've formulated over the years travelling round the country is this. No matter how uninviting the place looks driving in with gaunt tower blocks, industrial estates, tips, and out of town supermarkets, the city centre will be full of life, quaint buildings, tapas bars and Atmosphere.
The exception and exact opposite to this rule is Orgiva, capital of the Alpujarras, which has all the charm of Widnes but unfortunately without a Greggs on every corner.

Guardia Civil: want to catch some drug traffickers in Ibiza? Then your policy of sidling about the ferry queue in plain clothes jeans and t-shirts should pay off. My tip would be to ditch the fluorescent green waist coats with GUARDIA CIVIL in giant letters.

Drug Traffickers: want to avoid being thoroughly frisked by the GC in green waist coats? Then choose another car apart from an enormous gangsta black Mercedes and don't lounge about with your mate wearing shades and constantly make calls on your mobile to a Sr. Grande.

Driving: Standards are far higher than Ibiza. The highway code is obeyed everywhere, people appear able to join a motorway on the slip road seamlessly and easily and when a sign says one way street, you never meet anyone coming the wrong direction. I don't know how it would be if there was anyone else on the roads though as most days we drove for miles without seeing another car.

Coffee: Europe's strongest coffee is brewed in the south of Spain. Here's a tip for girls, ask for a 'cafe con leche muy flojo.' It's a white coffee with lots of milk. Blokes beware, all the hard work I put in one evening swigging beer and red wine came to nought when, two minutes after downing a Cortado (no muy flojo) I was frigging sober again!

Weather: do check the forecast. Our return trip to the Costa del Sol, where we first went 30 years ago on our first holiday together, and where we last went 25 years ago on our honeymoon, the whole bloody place was shrouded in fog so we couldn't see a thing.

Driving: Get a satnav. Spanish roads have not one, not two, but three different names and Spanish maps tend to use the ones which are different to the road signs. It will avoid disconcerting situations like travelling at 150 kph with each side of the road looking like luminous spaghetti and your co-pilot pipes up, 'which airport was that?'

Engineering: The road tunnel under Lorca castle is exactly 1850 metres long. Nothing unusual in that, but the spooky thing is that Spanish engineers have got it to be exactly the same length in the opposite direction.

Parking: Nobody has to pay to park in the Alpujarras!

Warning Signs: Are spookily true. I'd never seen a wild deer in my life until just after one of those deer boinging over the road signs last week. More sinister were the falling rock signs, and as Alpujarran hills seem to be constructed of slate shale, the road to Cadiar from Torvizcon had the appearance of a Welsh slag heap come to town.

Las Alpujarras

2009-04-27T13:21:00.003+01:00

There's a new photo slideshow of the Alpujarras region of Granada at the bottom of the blog. When it is replaced by another album in the future it can be viewed on my

Picasa Alpujarras Album

Here's an example of the landscape

New Ibiza Pub

2009-04-16T11:40:00.001+01:00

It's 'The Cat and Lizard'

Ibiza Emblem

2009-04-13T14:17:00.004+01:00

There are lizard emblems all over Ibiza. We have them on the facade of the house, they're on the planters at Ibiza airport and I saw some hand-painted onto tshirts at the craft market in San Antonio today.

Here's a real one sitting in a tree in our garden just now.

I think it's a gecko?

Old Ibiza Wives' Tales

2009-04-10T13:41:00.004+01:00

You know women are always going on about cleanliness and how spick and span everything has to be in the house? And you know how they're always rabbiting on about how good they are at multi-tasking and doing a million things at once.

Well feast your eyes on this

That's the dust and cat fur that I've just brushed in the living room, in fact not even the entire room, just the bits that you can get to easily.

Jaki is supposed to have cleaned the place thoroughly before she went to England last week! I certainly hope she appreciates all the hard work I've put in today doing her job!

Pure Stereotyping

2009-04-10T12:10:00.003+01:00

Isn't stereotyping sometimes annoying? You know how it is when because you say you are from a certain place that people assume you have certain habits, traits or do certain things.

When we checked in at Puro Hotel in Palma the guy demonstrating the stereo system - a Bose Lifestyle one no less - was proud to tell us that there was nothing else apart from 'lounge music' on it and that being from Ibiza we'd know all about it.

We don't. If you click the link to the hotel's www above which features an interminable soundtrack of lounge music you'll know why!

You won't catch me ever stereotyping.

On a completely different subject, I'm really looking forward to our stay in London. I can't wait to see all the Cockneys in Sarf Ken having a right old 'ows yer favver knees up lambeth walk Dick Van Dyke style outside 'arrods.

Ibiza Soul Patrol

2009-04-08T16:02:00.002+01:00

One of the CDs I have in the car's MP3 player is a gigantic stomping Northern Soul compilation which reminds me how old I am every time I put it on. Perhaps one of the few tracks on it that today's Ibiza dancers would recognise is this one - Don Thomas: Come on Train - which was a big dancefloor hit in 1974. It always reminds me of the Highland Room (they had tartan carpets) at Blackpool Mecca where I went on most Saturday nights.

Incredibly, 35 years on, and it's now the music for a TV advert for Visa. It still sounds pretty good to me though!