...stays in Ibiza. So naturally, I cannot regale you with stories of my week of hard-core clubbing and debauchery.
We mostly lazed around but did get a boat out to another beach (very crowded but with a deserted expensive beach-side restaurant, quite odd) and to Ibiza town. I seemed to adopt Mediterranean eating and, for me, didn't eat a lot - if only it could continue. I will try.
I exercised a pleasing amount, clocking up five runs of about eight miles each and doing five Insanity core workouts. For one run, I got the bus to St Josep and ran up the highest mountain in all of Ibiza. It was only 475m and took 25mins to 'summit', I then got lost and had to run halfway up it again to get back. For the rest I ran along the coast, and discovered something of a love for quick-stepping trail running over really rocky terrain. I tried the 'Back to Core' one from The Asylum. Looks easy. Isn't.
So all in all, most relaxing and made a pleasant change - especially before the world of baby screaming and crapping and puking (the former of which dominated the flight on the way there and back) that awaits us.
As has become my new and lazy way of blogging, here is the photo dump:
|The water taxi to a slightly nice beach. And Holly. I don't mean Holly is a taxi.|
|Sunset at Cafe del Mar (second best sunset in the world, our rep told us, trying to flog us an excursion)|
|Seafood paella sounded a good idea, but I don't do well with shellfish in their shells|
|Bradley Cooper hair|
|Mega yacht. Russian billionaire I imagine.|
|The trail beckons|
|My coastal run which I did four times - 2hrs the first time due to getting lost, reducing to 1hr14. Really really nice run. But why is Jesus in the reflection of my sunnies? I was alone...|
|You should see me do this in da club|