Awake at seven, breakfasting at eight, out of the Dalt Murailla hotel by ten past nine. I walked down past the Palau Real de Almudaina to the Avenida d'Antoni Maura at shore level, intending to walk part of the way or pick up a bus or taxi to the Estacion Maritimo. Then the unexpected happened.
On a short stretch of curved slope which was covered with a thin invisible coating of something slippery which wasn't water, I went into an uncontrollable slide and ended up slowly, thankfully on the ground. One of my left quad muscles popped, but didn't tear, and I didn't twist my knee. Two kind gents picked me up and gingerly I walked away, but only fifty metres as I reached the nearest taxi rank. This put an end to my ambition to get some early exercise. Better safe than sorry, until I'm sure no damage has been done. A year of relentless daily walking added to body memory from ski slithers paid off in terms of muscle control and joint strength. For anyone my age not used to walking a lot it could have been disastrous.
The taxi dropped me at the Mediterraneo terminal. I escaped a long confusing walk, ending with the search for pedestrian access route! I was horrified to find the slower cheaper ship runs tomorrow not today. I must have read the web info incorrectly. Or was it a matter of leaving a day early, then not noticing the difference in sailing dates and times? The desk clerk sent me to the neighbouring Balearica terminal 200m away. I knew they do a daily sailing, but would I be in time to book a ticket? Yes, at 09.45, just.
The transfer coach arrived at 10.10 and took us on a circuitous route to the quayside where at 11.15 we left port. What a treat! A very modern 'greener' ferry running on LPG, with a giant gas fuel tank at the stern end of the ship behind the exhaust funnel - can't call it a smoke stack in these days of running on smokeless LPG. I can't imagine an entirely electrically driven ship though I can imagine reverting to sail-ships delivering mechanical power to batteries supplying electric motors, with the blades / paddles made of photo-voltaic cells. Complex to manage, costly to make but zero carbon foot-print on vessels ten, twenty times the size of an antique tea clipper. I bet solutions of this kind are already dreams being turned into reality, even if it takes a few years to see the light of day.
Anyway, a very pleasant clean and bright ferry with a deck of cabins and a couple of decks with comfy reclining seats, not to mention restaurants and bars, plus a couple of open deck areas of smokers and sun worshippers. I thought the crossing would be two hours, as that was what I found on internet booking sites, but it turned out to be three. There was easy access wifi, fifteen minutes for free and then pay as you go for business users. Interestingly, access to WhatsApp was free and available, so long as there was enough bandwidth. I think WhatsApp must get used pretty widely in this region. People involved in the Ibiza Chaplaincy also network with each other using WhatsApp.
Cell-phone connectivity weakens away from shore in any case, so the entire ship's internet access is reliant on its direct satellite link, which has its data-flow limits with dozens of extra users on board, all presuming they can use on-line services ad-lib as usual on board, in addition to proper normal usage for ship's management purposes. On land or at sea there's never enough data capacity, so it seems. All this accounts for flaky connections, stuff that sometimes works and sometimes doesn't, and for messages which normally take second to transmit taking hours instead. Everything sits in a digital queue somewhere or another, God knows where. No short cuts.Just like the NHS really.
The ship seemed to get slower and slower as we cruised down the coast well before hitting eight knots for entering port to dock. It seemed that us few foot passengers were kept waiting an age to retrieve our luggage, and then had a quarter of a mile walk to the arrivals terminal, dragging cases. I could see Sarah out in the car park far away, walking into the terminal as I reached it from the other side. Within minutes, we were on our way out of Eizibissa town (the Catalan for Ibiza) north-west in the direction of Sant Antoni de Portmani. The chaplaincy house is located in an urbanzacion not far from the seaside town of La Cala de Bou. The Chaplaincy house is named Can Bou, which name as puzzled me for weeks, but now it can be revealed - the missing apostrophe on the maps.
In Catalan its Ca'n Bou i.e. Casa en Bou. I've seen this apostrophic contraction in written Catalan before, but forgotten about it until now. How nice to clear up a little mystery! The house is located out en el campo, it's a rural housing estate, heaven knows how big. The house has a basement level which I think is for community use, with Chaplain's accommodation above it, a blue shuttered casa blanca in meadow full of flowers by a wooded arroyo. The fridge and larder have been stocked and there was a meal ready for me to warm up later, thanks to Sarah.
A workman was re-tiling the front steps as I arrived. As on several other very different occasions in the past few days I've had the confidence to chat in Spanish. I feel I really have reached a turning point, thanks to many hours spent on the Duo Lingo app daily during my long months of idleness.
Once I'd unpacked and sorted myself out, I walked to the nearest shop named Es Cuco a kilometre away, on the hill above the road down into La Cala de Bou. It's a very well stocked food store, with fresh fruit and veg, bread, meat and wine, as well as the usual tinned foods. I was very impressed, and bought a few extra fresh items and some wine while I was there.
When I returned the gate to the finca was shut, and I presumed was locked by the workman when he left. In the absence of key, I climbed over the fence to reach the house. Only later did I learn that the gate was just jammed shut! After sunset, I felt I needed to stretch my legs again, and spent half an hour walking in the moonlight along un-metalled roads linking neighbouring fincas. The moon isn't full, but in the absence of artificial light away from towns and main roads, it shed enough light to cast a shadow. It was delightful magic!
Just after I got back, Ashley rang me, and it was a real pleasure to chat and tell the story of what has been for me an eventful day, a day, more than any other in which I feel more like the way I was back before my perianal abscess took over and began to dominate my life.
Thank God is all I can say, thank God!
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