Leisure

         We took the next morning easy and at about 12 headed into town to get food and wine before the beach.  We went to a small deli shop in Sant Francesc Xavier, the capital of the fishing/ hippie island about 10 km from our hotel.  While we ordered Chorizo, Manchego, and Tomato panini, a butcher brought in a half of a pig (we knew we found a good place).  With our 3 euro each sandwiches and a 3 euro bottle of wine we scootered over to arguably the best beach I have ever seen, Cala de Saona.  If only the waterfront was accessible and didn't have the plith that I had seen in Mallorca, it would have been perfect.  The beach was tucked down a tight path barely visible from the road and opened up to a beautiful white sand beach with views of Ibiza's coastline.  It was a cozy place, with cliffs on either side, and if I do say so myself, a perfect place to have lunch.

  

After lunch, we took in the sights, meaning sat on the beach and relaxed.  Jamie and I walked up on the cliffs on the side (that's where the last picture comes from) and I instantly recognized their austere beauty.  Thank god the water was cold or jumping in would have been considered even though rocks were visible under the water.  It looked that appealing.

  

We took then headed back to the vespas to check out another beach.  We drove out to the opposing cliffs and took that group picture.  Next, it was up to the narrowest point of beach on the northern end.  Located close to port, the beaches of Platja de ses Illetes and Platja de Llevant, jut out like a sandbar  and provide some spectacular views of water, yachts and islands. 

   

 We spent a great deal of time there and eventually braved the cold water.  It was warmer than carmel's intrepid waters, but not by much; it was relatively shallow and seemed to stay at that depth forever.  It felt amazing to get in the water, like I have expressed early, I miss the serene sounds of the ocean and its accompanying beauty.  There's just something more appealing about a horizon of blue waters than a horizon of urban landscaped edifici, buildings.  

 

I wished we had made it out to the southern end's far, lighthouse, but since the first beach was that way, they didn't feel like retracing steps.  

          I don't know why, we had meandered the backroads all day and had incredible fun racing around the empty dirt roads.  The views here were also to die for; from the farms and tilled land, to wildflowers, to stone walls built marjades style, dry stone without chisel or grout (so basically free rocks stacked on each other), it had plenty to offer.

  

  

The tree  (second row, middle) with support legs is a fig tree and it grows horizontally.  The branches are extremely fragile and as the tree ages, it needs more and more help to support the flimsy branches.  They are dotted across the island and are very appealing (they also provide nice shade).

          For sunset, which had become a very important time in my island travels, we returned to Pirate's Bus.  We were there earlier and had plenty of sun to watch go down.  It was a much nicer day, so tables were set out on the sand right in front of the bar instead of everyone huddled inside.  We sat, I wrote, Jake listened to music (the ocean is enough music for me), and Jamie drew.  As I stood up to get our second round of beers, I was hit with a piece of serrano jamon in the stomach by a little kid at the next table.  He was intending to throw it for his dog to fetch it, but I blocked it.  I thought nothing of it and walked to the bar and soon returned with are cervezas.  The kid must have felt embarrassed, because within about 5 minutes, his dad walked over and apologized in broken english.  I said it was not a problem and that I really hadn't thought anything of it. The conversation shifted to where you from?  Are you on vacation?  How do you like it here?  (Italy, on holiday, they come every year, they have a house on Formentera).  Once we found out they were italian, I tried to speak in italian tell our story.  It was a great conversation, which ended with him giving me his telephone number and email address and telling us that he would love if we came and stayed with him if we need a place up by Venice.  He also purchased around for us and apologized again.  It's crazy how a piece of ham could conjure that series of events, there we were enjoying our afternoon and now we have a place to crash in northern italy right outside Venice.

          I then took my hand to Jamie's drawing notebook and went with a realistic impression of what was in front of us.

 

Then it was time to pay attention to sunset.  Once again, the earth's rotation was providing jaw dropping views.  

   

After the sunset, we drove back to the hotel and changed for dinner.  We again followed one of Richard's suggestions.  We should have just gone back to Can Toni.  The meal we had was forgettable and fairly expensive.  There was a bar opening that night for the tourist season and we made an appearance.  It was a weird place with an age span of 50 years, there were 16 year olds there and there were 60 maybe 70 year olds there.  It was too much for us and we returned to the hotel after a drink.  Then it was bed; the next day we had to leave this paradise to return to Ibiza.