Spain 1 - Germany Lost

Last night Spain won Euro 2008 after a 44 years of underachieving. We were in San Antonio to witness both the match and the Ibiza style celebrations afterwards.

It took 40 minutes of driving round before we squeezed into a parking space two sizes too small, every bar with a TV (that's all of them) was packed, crowds of people blocked the pavements bawling and shouting at each other and cars full of people driving aimlessly about sounding their horns jammed the roads and traffic flow slowed to a snail's pace.

(photo diario de ibiza)

Meanwhile, all the Germans were sitting around solemn faced and unsmiling.

In fact, just like any other day.

San Juan Discoveries

Out and about last night for the San Juan festivities when we celebrate mid-summer, not only in Ibiza but all over Spain with bonfires and fireworks, I made some new discoveries.

1. No matter, how good the band, or how cheap the booze and food

nobody's going to turn up when the Tobacco shop down the road is having a grand reopening party with lashings of everything for FREE.

2. What my left hand is for - normally it justs hangs there doing nothing

but with a pork loin 'llunguet' or 4 fingers of Ballantynes plus coke its life now has meaning.

3. If you are going to build a giant bonfire, do not build it directly under an enormous olive tree.

4. A garden hose is not ideal for extinguishing forest fires.

5. Our local policemen have legs

I love the shot of the copper on the far left shrugging his shoulders as if to say, ' nothing to do with me.'

Two Ibiza Beaches, One Ibiza Day.

With around 60 beaches to play with, there's something for everybody on Ibiza. Happily, one of our favourites, just got even better. Cala Moli is now a natural beach - no sunbeds, no parasols - just beach and sea.

Doesn't it look just so peaceful?

Here, on the other hand and on the same day is Cala Vadella, where we went to take photos for a 'Family Holiday in Ibiza' page.

I'd be there like a shot if I had kids, wouldn't you?

Moreno Camionero

Lorry Driver Brown

On fantasy island Ibiza it's fashionable to be one of two hues, brown or translucent. Brown because you got the time to lounge in the sun all day, and the other to show that you're a creature of the night, spending all your time and your second mortgage in Ibiza's clubs.

Me, I'm what they call lorry driver brown; tanned face and arms, but a ghostly pale white under my white t-shirt. Ever one to embrace convention we headed for the beach for a UVA top up.

Es Codolar was as busy as ever - 27 people and a dozen dogs on its 5kms of pebbles. We stopped, unloaded the car, traipsed over the ridge to the shore, only to find it populated by those going the extra few inches for an all over tan.

Jaki drove the car down the track while Marli and I did the 400 metre pebble dash to a flesh free zone. Except that our next door neighbours were a couple of gnarled old nudists carved from mahogany.

Any road, the point of all this is that while at Cala Conta yesterday morning I took this picture from the cliffs.

Topiary

Having become disillusioned overnight by the cut and thrust world of SEO in Ibiza I decided to take up a new hobby. Topiary sprang to mind as I had to trim the plumbago hedge in my side garden relaxation station.

It had got a bit unruly to say the least

So I decided on a more minimalist approach inspired by celebrity crimper Trevor Sorbie. With a delicate snip here, and a bit of thinning there I came up with

Tah-dah, my hommage to John Wood's Palladian masterpiece, The Royal Crescent in Bath.

Lads who Link

As Ibiza's top Seo man I'm always on the lookout for others who lurve to link. I'm pleased to say that I've been head-hunted by second top Seo man to boost his flagging ratings.

So in return all I can say is Kiwis are cool especially Kiwi Designed

Journey From Ibiza

Or

Ibiza - Bilbao - San Sebastian - Santander - Ibiza
Or

Death by Pintxos

You probably gather that this is a real journey and not one of those journeys that contestants on reality TV shows make. Whether it be Big Brother, The Apprentice, America's Next Top Model or Britain's Got Talent, the rule is that the winner has to make a 'journey' to get anywhere.

Any road, as I had a few days holiday to play with I had a look at Vueling and Bob's your uncle, booked a flight to Bilbao. When we first went 10 years ago I remarked that to all intents and purposes Bilbao was basically Widnes with the Guggenheim.

However, what I neglected to take into consideration was the wonderful cuisine of the area - Bilbao, not Widnes. So I'm off on culinary tour of Spain's finest food region where the most famous dishes are Pintxos, little morcels of food anchored to a bit of bread with a stick.

San Sebastian is the most well known for this and perhaps the best night of our holiday there was spent in Pintxos bar after Pintxos bar in the old town with our faithful hound Lucy.

The idea probably came from the Saint, San Sebastian, who was ordered killed by arrows by the Romans, but despite ending up looking like a hedgehog he actually survived to be killed another day by some other method which guaranteed future sainthood.

Here's a sample of what I'll be getting (without the arrows)

It promises to be fun, especially as I'll be staying in a university hall of residence which becomes a back packers hostel in August.

Two Chairs, a Table and a lot of Rain

Ibiza's weather continues to be way out of kilter with the norm. At this time of year we should be out lounging by the pool but we haven't been in it once yet and we certainly haven't needed to top it up from the hose pipe!

Here's 10 seconds' worth of rain from today when gallons and gallons fell and guess what? Yes, the power went off!

Excursions - Ibiza Summer 2008

Pretty well every day in summer Ibiza's mountain village of San Jose receives hundreds of visitors on guided tours who all arrive by coach. By a triumph of organisation all the coaches arrive at exactly the same time and the village population swells around eight fold for about an hour.

It's pointless trying to do anything during this time as after approximately 2 minutes of sightseeing everyone heads for a coffee, filling our bars and cafes, or loitering without intent by the zebra crossings.

In desperation the odd tourist makes it up our lane for a good old nosey in our garden and beyond into our living room. I caught these Germans on my rooftop spycam this morning.

Sa Talaia - 13 Seconds of Rain

Ibiza's Highest Mountain Productions are proud to present.................

Sa Talaia - 13 Seconds of Rain

(as seen from our bedroom balcony)

Prawns and Pawns

The fun never stops in Ibiza's mountain village of San Jose. So to get away from it we caught the number 8 bus to the island's second city, San Antonio, last night.

First stop was our favourite restaurant Es Ventall where we stuffed ourselves with a myriad of seafood (fish soup, pasta and prawns and fideua) in a three course special menu which set us back only €38 and included two bottles of Rueda wine and all the usual extras like my beers, coffee etc.

Afterwards we went to Cafe Babel for lashings of Gin and Tonic and a bout of chess. If, like me, you thought chess was a game of brute strength and ignorance you'd be as wrong as I discovered I was last night.

Straight from the kick off Jaki's pawn put in a sweet little grubber kick just over the 10 yard line and her Bishop gathered and ran the diagonal to cross for a try in the corner.

After a Brian Noble style team talk at half time using tonic bottles and gin glasses it became apparent that tactics would do the trick.

Jaki had been using a flat sliding defence during the first half but with a couple of pawns as dummy runners I stretched it over to the right, quickly passing from Knight to Bishop and a long loping pass to the Queen who cut inside to go over right between the sticks for an easy conversion.

Because she let me win I treated Jaki to a taxi home - I couldn't let her walk 10 k up a mountain in her high heels.

Bully for you

Ibiza is mercifully free of bullfighting. It's not my cup of tea and I won't even venture into a bar when it's on the telly. However there have been a couple of occasions recently when the bulls briefly looked like winning

Pronger pronged!

The best seats in the house

Quite obviously when I mentioned the bulls winning I wasn't referring to the Bradford Bulls

Ibiza Sun Old Lady

My oft spoken about weekly 'View from the Villa' column occasionally contained a character known as The Ibiza Sun Old Lady and was in fact entirely based on my mother-in-law (who I've not spoken to for over a year - I don't like to interupt)

Any road, I invited the old dear to a BBQ here on Sunday during which she broke one of her own records by uttering the longest sentence in the world which lasted a mammoth 33 minutes and 28 seconds without drawing a single breath!

Pleased with her efforts and aided by lashings of Rueda wine, she volunteered to look after the house and all animals contained therein, should Jaki and I wish to go on holiday. We did, and we booked to go to this elegant looking pad in Valencia in October.

Ibiza Stock Shots

Rarely leaving the confines of the villa for the excitement of the outside world my need for stock shots of humdrum Ibiza for various articles is never sated. Until now that is!

The pater who has been on holiday here for 3 weeks has been out and about every day treading the same path and visiting the same shoe shops with my mother. But he's had his camera with him and has taken a fine collection of photos which could be used to jolly up news articles with the following headlines.

Cats in Adirondack Snooze Shocker

Pensioner Misplaces Purse at Bus Station Shocker

Page 3 Ibiza Stunna Shocker

and so on.......................You'd never know I'd been reading the Sun's regular and informative reports from the White Island would you?

Stood Under a Bad Sign

I may have alluded in the past to Spain's poorly signed roads. I don't notice it so much in Ibiza because after 20 years I have a rough idea where I'm going. Today was a little different because I was in Ibiza's last resort, Cala Llonga, for only the second time.

Maybe it was because it was a wet Sunday morning but the only word I could summon up to describe the place was 'dire.' Outdoor pool tables, roast beef and Yorkie pud, children's playgrounds and the Sunday tabloids just don't do it for me.

Short of forming an escape committee, the only way out was to drive as fast as I could to somewhere else but my efforts were foiled by the road sign guys.

As you can see, the only place to escape to was Santa Eulalia, whose very name adds 10 years to my age, but it seemed more inviting than Cala Llonga. The only problem was of course that the directions to the left were also accompanied by a 'no left turn' sign.

Help me!