It was at precisely 11.50am on the 3rd September 2012 that I touched down at Ibiza airport with just a rucksack of clothes, a fistful of CV's and some meagre savings to my name.
I'd spent the best part of that year travelling the globe but now, for personal reasons, I needed to return to Europe and be closer to the UK.
I was here to find work and somewhere to live, neither of which I'd arranged before I landed. Life is much more fun if you make it up as you go along.
As I drew on my cigarette in the sunshine at Ibiza airport waiting for the bus to town my thoughts turned to the task ahead if I was to make a go of living in Ibiza.
I discovered Ibiza very late in my life. I suppose my view of sunshine party venues, such as Ibiza, Aya Napa and the like had been corrupted by the relentless drivel shown on various 'uncovered' documentaries on TV. I'm now ashamed to admit I was taken in and imagined Ibiza as one big, wall to wall run down pub with the drunken brawls thrown in (or thrown up, if you look at it that way).
The first time I came to Ibiza the plane was delayed. It was about 4 years ago, in the late spring. My friend Peter owns a house on the island and he persuaded me to fly over for the weekend to understand the true Ibiza. He'd been waxing lyrical about the beauty of the island for years and had, until that point, been unsuccessful in persuading me to visit.
It was night when I arrived and the heat of the day was still in the air. Taking a taxi in the dark to my friends isolated house in the countryside, along unlit roads, didn't prepare me at all for what I was to experience the following day.
It was around 7am when Pete roused me and told me to get up. I walked out of the kitchen onto the patio with a cup of tea in my hands to see a bright yellow sun rising over the hills of San Jose and it took my breath away. I was awestruck. Blue sky, green hills, the sea in the distance, and not a rundown pub in sight. To put it simply I'd arrived in paradise.
"Come on" said Pete, “I want to show you something.”
We jumped onto his car and he drove me through the countryside to a deserted Cala Conta.
We pulled over and walked to the edge of the cliff overlooking the sea towards the small islands and the horizon beyond. Turquoise waters, the sun bringing out every shade of blue. White pristine sand. A clear blue sky. An early morning sun. Total silence, save for the waves lapping the shore. The raw beauty of nature exposed to my eyes.
How could my imagination of Ibiza have been so corrupted by a third rate TV show?
This was my Ibiza 'WOW' moment, and I vowed at that very moment to return one day and live in paradise.
My weekend passed by in a heartbeat. Ses Salinas listening to Jonny Sa Trinxa playing the coolest music whilst enjoying a sangria or two. Jumping into the sea at the fabulous Cala Salada and swimming out to a yacht anchored in the bay. Sat under orange trees at La Paloma restaurant enjoying delicious, organic food. Finally a night at Pacha, dancing the night away in the Funky Room. Absolute bliss.
Four years later, stood at the airport finishing my coffee and taking the last draw of my cigarette, the time feels right to fulfil the promise I made to myself all those years ago.
My first task is to find somewhere permanent to live, and then find gainful employment at the end of the tourist season.
I know everything will turn out fine. There is a definite 'vibe' in the air, and that 'vibe' spells good fortune, even for this hapless adventurer.
Stay tuned.
Just a minute!
