April 10, 2010 Ibiza

So i have been in Ibiza for an unholy amount of time, and i can't say that i was at all pleased to come home to my "saving grace" Torino. Ibiza was filled with a lot of memories, but i think most notable one involved John and I meeting up with these two marines. We didn't know them before we go there- we just kinda met up with them. Anyway as fate would have it, only weeks before our own arrival to Ibiza a yacht had run aground right on the edge of the most popular beach in all of Ibiza. Unfortunately, the yacht was under the category of what the Spaniards like to call "dirty money" so needless to say they just left it there. Anyway that night we climbed aboard and were just messing around-It was all fun and games-until from the depths of the behemoth we caught a glimpse of what was below deck. We had only moments before descended below deck with nothing but a flip phone to guide us when we were struck by the sight of a small army of homeless people laying side by side in the base of the yacht. Excuse my insensitivity, but it looked like something from a holocaust video, because when the light hit them what looked like a pile of corpses started to move. We quickly left the boat, but we were freaked out. More importantly though the two marines were freaked out.

We spent most of our time in Ibiza just meeting people and talking. The beaches there were spectacular, John and I had arrived about 3 weeks too early for the "season" so there was rarely anyone on the beach with us. Our original plan was to island hop around ibiza to islands named "Palma del mellorca" and "Menorca" but we found out that the 30 minute ferry ride was going to cost us 60 euro one way so we canceled all of our hostel reservations and stayed in Ibiza. The food there was incredible and i even found mountain dew in one grocery store. Of course the backwards spanish don't use artificial sugar, so what i thought was moutain dew was more like citrus flavored kool aide sweetened with a small twig of sugar cane. I reached all new levels of despair when i took that first sip. I contemplated cutting my wrists, but i decided against the idea. The jury might still be out on that one.

Every day that we were in Ibiza we ate at the same restaurant. I couldn't tell you the name because i think that the spanish in all there eloquence might have simply called it "bar/restaurant". I'm not one to venture into new avenues of taste, but i decided to try the "lomo y queso" or "lamb and cheese" against my better judgement. One bite into this sandwich and you would have thought that this was a double decker "manna and quail" sandwich with cheese. I was so pleased by the sandwich i returned the following day, and the next, and the next. What i neglected to realize however is that your body becomes accustomed to things that you eat, and i threw it a curve ball when, after 7 years of no lamb, the dam was broken and i barraged my insides with lamb after lamb after lamb sandwich. I imagine my stomach spent hours sifting through the nutritionless lamb distraught and panicked to find something of value. People say that there is no reason for the appendix, but i know that after this last week your stomach probably uses that to stick lamb into when your body is over run by the stuff. Did i throw up at one point, yeah. Was it because of the lamb, probably. Did i go back the next day and get a lomo y queso, Yeah. Did i feel sick the next day, definitely.

Life goes on. Torino is a cruel mistress, and to return to her is to kiss the devil with open eyes. I'm exaggerating, its not that bad, but this next weekend i'm going to Florence to see James and then only one more trip before i come home. I miss you all.