Who am I if I go to Ibiza and don't quote the Mike Posner song?
On Sunday (the 9th), I packed up my bags, watched the pasos of San Roque church from the roof of the school and hopped on a plane to Ibiza. This past week has been Semana Santa, holy week, which means that I had all week of class off and don't go back until Tuesday. We got to Ibiza late Sunday night, and we grabbed some food before passing out to be well rested for the next day.
We woke up Monday and made our way to the old town part of Ibiza. To be honest, it was pretty dead there. It's off season right now (too early in the year), so there weren't a lot of people there, just locals really. We got food at this cool tapa place in old town where we paid for our meal by the amount of sticks we had at the end. The tapas each had these sticks through them, and each stick was less than $2. The food was great, and it got all of us ready to walk around more before heading to the beach. We stayed at the beach pretty late-ish, and when we got home, we cuddled up and watched My Big, Fat Gypsy Wedding in Spanish. The whole night was spent laughing, and it felt just like the sleepovers you had when you were younger. This night was my favorite out of the whole trip, arguably the whole semester.
On Tuesday, we went to a beach in the southern part of the island, and we stayed there all day. We tanned and slept on the beach for at least 5 hours (I think more. I wasn't keeping track of time). Sun burnt and sun worn, we headed back to the hotel to pack up and get ready for our early flight the next day to Barcelona.
At the ripe hour of 6:30 am, we made our way to the Ibiza airport. The flight was super short, and we were back in all of our favorite place again! After checking into the hostel, we walked around some until deciding it was in our best interest to rent bikes for the day. We rode them around the port, up the beach, and to the Sagrada Familia. While the bikes were really fun, they were emotionally distressing. I was behind a man and his wife, and I rang my little bell to warn them I was coming up behind them. When I rode past them, the man KICKED MY WHEEL on my bike to knock me off. Little did he know, I'm a pro bike rider, so I didn't fall. You can sure as heck bet though that I rounded on that man and asked what his problem was. Nothing came out of it, but that is just ONE instance out of like three where people were rude because we were riding bikes. I have a new-found respect for bike riders, y'all. We need to get out of their way.
The next day, we all woke up exhausted because the beds at the hostel were awful, and none of us slept well. We didn't let this stop us for filling the day with lots of activities. We took the metro to Park Guell. Sadly, all the tickets to go inside the park for the two days we had left there were sold out, but we walked everywhere around it. We also saw the Gothic district and cathedral before heading to the port (and the mall there) to wrap up the night.
We checked out Friday morning and got some brunch before seeing out the Roman necropolis. By this point, this was about time for my friend/study abroad cousin, McKayla, and I to head to the airport to catch a flight to our last stop. Málaga.
We got there late Friday night, and I was exhausted and done. Our hostel did not help this fact at all. First off, we checked in at a bar. NONE of the reviews mentioned that check in was at a bar. I had to scream over the music for the receptionist to hear me. It was a mess. ALSO, the wifi "has issues" hooking up to iPhones, so guess who didn't have wifi for awhile? You guessed it.
We had to get out of that place quick, so we watched a few pasos there and found a Taco Bell to chill/eat at. After that, we sadly had to return to the hostel, but it couldn't get worse, right? Wrong.
There was a grown man with grey hairs in his beard in our room. I can't make this stuff up, y'all. Thankfully, he passed out early because he was a little borracho.
We checked out on Saturday, and the room they had to hold our bags until we left had no lockers. The stuff just sat out there, and I asked the receptionist if it was safe. She said, "Yeah. I keep it locked and have the key around my neck." Okay because that stops people from going in there and saying my bag is theirs? We dipped with our bags and checked them in at lockers in the train station.
McKayla and I had enough time to eat lunch and spend about an hour in the Cathedral and its museum. The Málaga catedral is honestly my favorite, probably. It was a beautiful mix of the Seville and Granada catedrales. It wasn't insanely big, but I could've spent forever looking at the chapels.
We had to the leave though to catch a bus to Seville. The ride was awful, and for some reason, I get carsick now when I'm on long bus rides (i.e. to Toledo, Madrid, Portugal, and that time). I pray that this whole carsick thing is just a Spain thing.
I slept a lot Saturday and binged all of 13 Reasons Why on Netflix. Traveling and going nonstop is pretty exhausting, but I am happy to say that this was my last big trip before coming home. I might go to a beach town for a few days before I leave, but this past week was it for me. I haven't gone outside of the Iberian Peninsula, and I am completely okay with that. There is so much to see in Spain itself, and I came here to experience this place and this culture. I'm not dogging on the people who traveled a lot outside of Spain, but I am really happy that I spent my time here in my now second home. From today, I have 24 days left. I remember it being February and feeling like there was no way I'd make it to the end, but here I am. 12 days of class left and a little over three weeks left. It'll be hard for me to leave my roots here, but you can sure as heck bet that I can't wait to hug my loved ones in the states again.
xoxo,
Caroline
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