List of Previous Titles

Sunday, August 30, 2009

The Perfect way to Relax




Ibiza & Formentara

Two columns ago I explained that my wife was about to take me on a magical mystery tour, which was a vacation that I had no prior information about at all. I didn’t know that we were planning on going some place; I didn’t know where we were going; whether it would be one place or more; how we were going to travel; or what we would do once we arrived at our destination. She was keen that it should be a complete surprise, but if I insisted that she give me the details, then she would. I didn’t insist, because I like nice surprises.

These are some of the games that partners play that give spice to life, and I highly recommend them.

A friend who knew the story let slip that we would be travelling by airplane, so that was the first clue, plus I was told to pack for Summer time. We drove to the airport and went through security and took a seat in the waiting lounge. At that point I could have been going almost anywhere. I was relaxed and chose something to read. There were a few announcements regarding boarding for planes flying to various destinations, but we didn’t move.

Finally the announcer said that the plane flying to Ibiza was boarding, and after the line dwindled down to a few remaining passengers I was informed that we should join the line. Wonderful! We have been living here in Valencia, Spain for ten years and we have talked about one day going over to the islands, and now that day had arrived. This was a very delightful surprise indeed.

My next surprise came when Lorna said that I might see a familiar face at the airport. I could not even begin to guess, so I gave up and waited to see who would meet us. Suddenly, the lady was in front of us, and to say that I was surprised doesn’t even begin to adequately cover the situation. I really don’t want to print too much about her, but I will say that life had handed she and her family a devastating disappointment and she was crippled by the weight of just trying to understand what had happened.

Now, here she was, still under immense pressure but she was smiling and dealing with life on a daily basis, and she was surviving. Having come face to face with that realization my trip had spiked to its highest point.

She then drove us to our apartment that had been loaned to us by a very good person, and the apartment could not have been better situated. It was a small self-catering unit that was located on the seventh (top) floor with views out over the harbour. It had a small television and a radio, neither of which were plugged in, and we decided to leave them as they were. During the first day I decided to turn off my mobile phone, and I avoided going to an Internet café, so for five glorious days we had no TV, radio, Internet, or phone. We did buy local newspapers not for news of the world, but just to gain some idea of life on the islands.

We did some sightseeing on Ibiza, as well on the sister island of Formentera. Both islands reminded me so much of my own island home of Bermuda. They cater to tourists, as does Bermuda, and there were so many things that are similar. However, in one major way Bermuda is very different in that the island closely controls development, and consequently Bermuda does not allow the high density crowding along the waterfront that these two islands permit. Such closeness devalues the product and does not add anything of value.

We spent one day with our lady friend and her family at her vacation home, and that was super special. Other than that we either did sightseeing or we spent our days on the beach. I should explain that I really do not like the beach and its sand, nor do I need a suntan, but I went along and took a very good book written by John Grisham called “The Appeal” One day we went to the Reggae Beach and I spent time in the Reggae Bar drinking a concoction called a “Jamaican me Crazy” that was served up by this white rasta man. He was super cool.

If you didn’t already know that I am not European, just by mentioning the fact that I am still astounded how free women feel about going topless on the beach would concrete the fact. No European man would even mention it, as it is so commonplace, and has been for a very long time. It’s only us guys from the other side of the Atlantic, plus the Brits, of course who find the freedom so bewildering. I think that a grandmother who can feel so liberated to unwrap her breasts in public is a wonderful thing, and long may it continue. It certainly made me feel more comfortable about exposing my own not so perfect frame.

We men are allowed to look, and we have to look as there are no beautiful trees to gaze upon instead, however; we are not allowed to stare. It would be most ungentlemanly to stare. Anyway, there is absolutely nothing sexual about so many uncovered boobs. I just wonder whether there is pain in burnt nipples.

Best of all, I spent hours doing absolutely nothing at all. Whether on the beach or at the apartment, I would sit on the bench in the corner on the terrace and look out over the activities taking place in the harbour with a totally vacant mind. No worries or concerns about anything at all. I didn’t even realize what was happening to me and to us. We let the everyday cares of the world drift away; we didn’t even have to do any driving so we let our guard down to a minimum.

I think this must be what every individual needs and must surely be good for one’s mental health. Trying to cope with the stresses and strains of living in our modern society does take its toll. A week of what we have completed must have added ten years to each of our lives.

As a final thrill we cruised back to the mainland and landed in Valencia’s ports just as the Formula One races got under way. We then had to make our way out of the port area via a complicated route, sometimes driving alongside the races. Now that’s the way to have a vacation with pizzazz!

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael