I’m woefully underdressed and sporting too much of a farmer’s tan to be mistaken for a clubber or influencer, but I’m quite happy to be the odd one out. I came here to slow down and recharge in the mythical, quieter parts of Ibiza that are rumoured to exist.
Depending on who you ask, you’ll get different answers as to what Ibiza is like. It’s a small island, smaller in fact than Co Louth, that can be crossed in an hour by car, but it has very clearly defined regions and personalities.
The glam of recent decades has covered up Ibiza’s arrival onto the tourist scene, when it was known as a haven for American hippies who were dodging the Vietnam War draft.
Then came the clubbing era, thanks to famous nightclubs like Ocean and Pacha in Playa d’en Bossa in the South, while Freddie Mercury had his legendary 41st birthday in Pikes, near San Antonio, in the West.
Ibiza Town is the largest urban area on the island, with roughly 50,000 inhabitants. It lies by the water on the east of the island, sandwiched between the marina and fortified, hillside structures of Old Town.
Walking through the streets of Ibiza Town, I’m swarmed by groups of young people running in and out of the high street shops, picking up new outfits for their night out, but as I explore, I see the sandy stone of Old Town rise above me.
Snaking laneways of shiny and slippery stones draw me up the inclines to tranquil courtyards lined with idyllic homes with views across the harbour.
Old Town is the historic heart of Ibiza. At its summit is Ibiza Castle, a fortified structure that has taken on many forms over the centuries and seen invasions by the Phoenicians, Romans, Moors, Christians, and pirates.
Wandering around the fortress, I can only imagine how difficult it was to breach these stout walls. Amongst all the history are glimpses of modern Ibiza.
The Museum of Contemporary Art lies within the walls and celebrates the island’s artistic past that bloomed in the 1960s with the arrival of the hippies — this museum, like all others on the island, is free to visitors.
A warm glow fills the evening air and I follow the sound of chat and laughter to the lower parts of Old Town, where I find a seat on a terrace overlooking the water below.
I’ve certainly slowed down since my first day here and as I sip on my glass of vermouth as the sun sets, I can feel myself unwinding.
I find active holidays relaxing. I’m not one for sitting on the beach, I get restless, as if the day is being wasted, but once I’ve done something active, the chemicals in my brain balance out and I can relax.
With that in mind, I decide to rent a bike and explore the coastal trails and gravel roads.
I turn from the paved paths on the west coast of Ibiza and onto a dry gravel road that kicks up dust with every spin of the wheels.
It’s not long until I’ve left the sea behind and find myself in complete silence, surrounded by nothing but pine trees and the odd fig and olive tree.
Areas along the coast in Ibiza are densely populated with high-rise buildings and hotels, but out here, people live dispersed in whitewashed buildings scattered across the foothills of the central mountains.
Life feels like it moves slowly here, with days of endless sunshine allowing people to grow food in their gardens, relax in their hammocks, and read on their terraces.
Despite the late spring heat, coastal breezes keep me comfortable as I pedal up the hilly landscape and bomb back down on empty gravel roads.
SIMPLE CAN BE PERFECT
MY ACTIVE itch has been scratched and now it’s time to eat. Wanting to see more of the island, I make my way to Santa Gertrudis in the centre of the island — I’ve heard there’s a place here that does the best Iberico jamon.
The village is idyllic — a whitewashed church stands at one end of a cobbled street that’s lined with jacarandas in full purple bloom and buzzing with people eating outdoors.
There’s a small queue outside Bar Costa, mainly of Spanish people from what I can tell, which is always a good sign.
I’m ushered in, stoop below the legs of ham hanging from the ceiling, and step through the rear dining room that’s a song of noise from families eating and drinking.
Ordering the Iberico ham and a glass of wine, it dawns on me how straightforward Spanish food is; there are no marketing buzzwords or TikTok-trending dishes on the menu, just simple food, done well.
As the ham melts in my mouth, I’m convinced that not only can simple be better, but simple can be perfect.
As a new day begins, so does a new activity: this time I’m swapping the land for the sea on a kayaking trip along the coast from Es Figueral beach with Kayak Ibiza.
The sea is surprisingly cold here, nowhere near as cold as Ireland, but enough to feel odd given the sun-drenched, parched landscapes around me.
“You know Ibiza has a party reputation, right?” Alex, my guide, asks rhetorically as we paddle out into the sea. “This area that we’re in was a busy smuggling route years ago.”
He points to a rock face 100m away where there is an oddly-coloured patch in the rock, marking the entrance to a tunnel that smugglers used in the past. Thankfully, the waters here are more welcoming these days.
Under the shimmering azure are meadows of Neptune’s grass, a native seaweed that waves up to the surface and is home to a variety of sea life.
“Look below you, can you see it?” Alex’s question isn’t rhetorical this time. “There’s a ray right there!”
I make out the shovel-shaped creature and watch as it billows and glides through the water.
Back on dry land, it’s time to eat, but I’ve had such a good day by the water, I decide to eat my dinner by the coast.
S’illa des Bosc requires a little bit of effort to get to as it’s not in a town, but its location on top of a small cliff by the water makes it ideal for a sunset dinner.
Dining al fresco is such a treat and I order the tuna tataki, which is gently seasoned and seared, leaving the centre raw yet roaring with flavour. Though it’s a Japanese dish, it suits Spanish life well, elevating quality produce with minimal fuss or fanfare.
Long after dark, the bill arrives with some “hierbas ibicencas”, an Ibizan version of limoncello made with local herbs. It’s a sharp yet sweet palate cleanser and a great way to round off a day by the sea.
It’s the final morning of my trip and I can’t get last night’s aperitif out of my mind. Looking for somewhere to buy a bottle before my flight, I find Can Muson, a farm with a cafe where you can make your own hierbas ibicencas.
I’m sold. Stepping through the gates, the farm unfurls like a verdant paradise.
Goats and sheep play in the fields, trees are heavy with fruit, and the outdoor tables are laden with colourful foods and drinks — I couldn’t be further, mentally or physically, from the island’s nightclub scene here.
Hierbas ibicencas is made by putting whatever herbs are at hand into a glass bottle before adding some fruit and topping up with aniseed liqueur.
Given the loose recipe, there’s no set way to make the drink; mine contains orange leaf, lavender, thyme, and a bunch of other fragrant herbs. Putting the cork in the bottle and giving it a good smack shut, I know this is one souvenir that I’m keeping for myself.
Ibiza wasn’t at the top of my list when I was looking for a restful break away, but something drew me here and made me look beyond what the island is best known for and rewarded me with exactly what I needed.
Cian was a guest of Ibiza Tourism Board and the Spanish Tourism Office.
Escape Notes
Ryanair operates a daily direct flight from Dublin to Ibiza with a flight time of 2 hours and 50 minutes. Be warned, you may be on a flight with people who have already started the party!
Stay at the stylish and peaceful Hyde Hotel in Cala Llonga from €230/night and get direct access to the beach. This hotel is in a quiet area with restaurants and bars within walking distance, but you may need a car to get around as a taxi into Ibiza Town costs €30.
Plan your own restful trip to Ibiza by visiting the Ibiza Tourism website ibiza.travel.