As I sit in the warm Mediterranean sun one last morning I reflect on the beautiful island of Ibiza, and why I did not fall in love with the place. The natural setting of the island with beaches, rocky coves, and mountains should have made this like a paradise for me. It was not. The old town of Ibiza was a lovely whitewashed warren of winding, stone roads that should have made me dream I was a resident in one of its ancient dwellings. It did not. The tasty food should make me salivating for my return to the island. It did not.
The problem I think is layered. First, the natural setting is being overwhelmed with development. When I sat in traffic, I was not appreciating the island’s natural beauty but looking at Ibiza’s endless construction projects. It is ironic that the allure of nature on the small island is what is causing its nature to decline.
Second, the beautiful town of Ibiza feels plastic, inauthentic. The entire town is overrun with tourists and I was here in the offseason. Everything in the town caters to tourists. I got little sense of Ibizan life and culture. Catalan is the traditional and official language of Ibiza, but you would have been hard pressed to hear it. Spanish and English ruled. I always greeted workers and shopkeepers here in Catalan. Sometimes I got an enthusiastic response, sometimes confusion, for many of the workers are not from here. The limited space and skyrocketing real estate has actually forced many Ibizans off the island. Apartments in town are being rented for three months to tourists at astronomical prices rather than to locals for a full year. As a result, in the offseason the place empties out. Markets and businesses catering to everyday life cannot be sustained when there will be months of emptiness in the community. Toward the end of my trip people were filling the place up again, but those people were much more likely from Germany or Holland than Ibiza. Without the local culture there is little sense of history or even place in Ibiza.
Even the food has become victim to the island’s commercial success. There are plenty of restaurants, many of them good. But they are very expensive. Making dishes to attract locals rarely make enough money to survive. As a result there are a plethora of Italian, Faux-Spanish, American, and Asian places to eat, many fusion ones as well. Being an island in the Mediterranean I was surprised at how impossible it was to find one selling a local seafood dish. Yes, I did have some delicious grilled food, including Catalan staple rabbit, but mainly it was touristy Spanish food that I ate.
It seems Ibiza is becoming a victim of its own success. Its traditional culture has been replaced by a culture that values clubbing till dawn and consumption of commodities, like many other playgrounds in the world. I feel soon this island will be an R rated Mediterranean Disney World, the real one of which I have vowed never to go to. Will Ibiza become a place I vow never to return to? While there are still locals here, I have hope. The ones I talked to do not however. They see a time when they will have to leave. Many already have headed to the much larger nearby island of Majorca whose size has allowed it to keep tourist development from overrunning it too. It is very sad to lose your faith in your homeland. Unfortunately this is a concept I am quickly learning myself.
So I don’t love Ibiza. It does not mean I did not enjoy myself. The beaches are beautiful. I love lying naked in the sun. There were many photo opportunities all around Ibiza and I met some interesting people. Moreover I NEVER want to return home to my unsatisfying life. I just would rather continue my journey elsewhere. Maybe to the Algarve of Portugal, which features some of the same qualities of Ibiza, without the massive tourist hordes, and with its culture more in tact. That is a place I will return to.
