OH, WHAT A LOVELY BAY!

I already sang the praises of Ibiza Town -- capital of the Balearic island of Ibiza -- in an earlier posting on this blog (A Sight for Tired Eyes, 8th May). But Louise and myself got the chance to return to the island for a four-day break just recently, and found ourselves in a great location, in the next bay along from the town. I just thought I'd share a couple of the views with you.

And here's what the place looked like at sunset.

A SIGHT FOR TIRED EYES

Even writers have it tough sometimes. It's been a pretty busy year so far. There've been the various edits of my new supernatural thriller -- TROPIC OF DARKNESS from Pocket Star/Gallery -- to deal with. I've a new horror novel on the boil. And to add insult to injury, I honestly thought that I was getting near to a final version of my fifth Raine's Landing novel -- SPEAK OF THE DEVIL -- only to realise it needs a couple more drafts at least before it's properly complete.

Ah, the joys of being a perfectionist!

Throw in an absolutely terrible British winter which has lasted right until the end of April, and by the middle of that month  I was absolutely drained and needed, very badly, to get away for a while.

A couple of days scootching around on the Internet and Louise had come up with an inexpensive one-week deal in, of all places, Ibiza. You know, hangout for hippies in the Sixties and Seventies, now the favoured destination for all-night clubbers. But we went for it.

We wound up in a nice hotel which was a little isolated and was, frankly, pretty quiet. Very early in the season, you see ...it had only just opened, and I doubt if a quarter of its rooms were occupied. But right outside the entrance was a bus stop, and in ten minutes you could get into the heart of the island's capital, Ibiza Town, and what a joy that was. The harbour was nice enough -- face it, they always are. But heading away from that, you come into the Old Town, all tall, gaily-painted old houses with wrought iron balconies, and leafy, cafe-lined squares. Absolutely charming. But the best was yet to come.

Past the Old Town is the mostly 16th Century walled  city of Ibiza Town, founded -- I think -- by Philip II of Spain. We're talking huge walls, massive fortifications, cannons at the top. To defend against whom? I'm not quite sure. Pirates? Corsairs? Even the Perfidious Brits?

You go in through the main entrance -- across a drawbridge, no less -- and suddenly realise that you've wound up somewhere very special. And it's not just the lovely old architecture. The whole of the walled city is built on the slopes of a very steep hill, so that the streets running acrosswise are normal lanes, but the streets running upward are not lanes at all but flights of stone stairs, hundreds of them, heading in every which direction. And the place is no museum -- people live there by the thousand. I could have wandered there for hours, and I generally did.

I hear that Luca in Italy is built along similar lines but, never having been there, I found Ibiza Town's walled city quite unique, a place of special magic. There's a lot more to that island than just clubbing.

SKETCHES OF SPAIN

No, this isn't another entry wholly about movies, although it is inspired by one. Went to see the latest Woody Allen last night. And thank heavens, after the disasters of Match Point and Scoop, the Grand Chief Nebbish has stopped setting his films in London ... my home city, sadly, doesn't seem to inspire him in quite the right way. Vicky Cristina Barcelona marks a partial return to form. It's nothing like his greatest hits -- but hey, the guy is in his seventies by now -- and is structured rather more like a short story than a movie, which might be intentional. But it's beautifully filmed and acted and enjoyable to watch, a meditation on the old Chinese curse 'may you live through interesting times' viewed through the medium of (what else?) tangled interpersonal relationships.

But the real point is this. The film is largely set in two Spanish cities, Barcelona, which I've visited and set fiction in, and Oviedo, which I haven't yet, although having watched this movie I plan to change that as soon as possible. People tend to think of Spain merely in terms of its beach resorts, the costas, with their massive commercialism and their pandering to British diets/drinking habits. But the fact is, get away from these artificial constructs (which the Spanish don't even regard as a genuine part of their nation) and you'll find yourself in one of the most unique countries in Europe, with amazing architecture, great food and wine, terrific culture and an enviable lifestyle built around staying up half the night and enjoying yourself amongst friends ... and that's the case if you're seventeen or seventy. I know people in several cities out there, and have been lucky enough to visit (several times in some cases) Madrid, Seville, Valencia, Bilbao, Granada, Toledo, Segovia, Cordoba, Tarragona, the astonishing Salamanca, and the aforementioned and utterly wonderful Barcelona. If all you've ever done out there is fried on a beach then, believe me, you don't know what you're missing. If there are any other Hispanophiles out there, why not drop in with your thoughts? (The accompanying photo -- mine -- is of the Gaudi House in Barcelona, and there are plenty more from all around the world in the photo gallery on my official website.)