Ibiza is one of those places you think you already know before you have even been there. Your mind fills with music, bass, clubs, luxury yachts, endless sunsets, and people who look as if they have never heard the word “Monday”. However, we arrived on a cruise ship for a single day, with two children in tow. And the first thing we saw was not a beach, but a massive fortress. So today, we will be skipping the beaches, the parties, and the luxury yachts.
Our ship docked at the port right next to Faro de Botafoc. The name comes from Catalan and means “a place for fire”. Long before the lighthouse was built, beacon fires were lit here for the sailors. Today, it serves as the modern terminal, but it is about 3 kilometres away from the historic centre. Instead of walking in the heat, we opted for a small boat, a water taxi, which took us directly to Ibiza Puerto, the old port.
At first, Anna and Adriana took the adventure philosophically. Translated from children’s language, this meant they had not yet started asking when we would be returning to the ship.
Ice Cream at “George Clooney’s”
Once we stepped onto the port, we immediately went for a walk along Carrer del Mar and quickly reached Ice Boutique Nº29. Our gastronomic agenda for the day was not particularly complicated. It was hot, we were short on time, and we had two children with us. Therefore, we left traditional local dishes like bullit de peix (a fish stew), sofrit pagès, and the flaó dessert for our next visit. For now, ice cream was absolutely essential.
Here, we were served by a man who looked so much like George Clooney that for a moment I wondered if we had stumbled upon a secret Hollywood holiday resort. And it was not just his face. He also had that calm, slightly smug aura that makes you think, “Well, of course he sells ice cream. What else would George Clooney be doing in Ibiza in August?”. Besides all that, their artisanal gelato was phenomenal. It was perhaps the best we had eaten all week, and we had already been through France and Italy.
The Living City Behind the Gates
The ice cream gave us the strength to continue towards the Portal de ses Taules, the main gateway to the city’s past. “Taules” means “wooden boards”, a memory of the old drawbridge. The gate is crowned with the coat of arms of King Philip II, and once you pass through it, you leave the modern world behind.
Inside, Dalt Vila (the Old Town) does not feel like a sterile museum at all. It is a living, breathing city. People chat in the small squares, someone opens a heavy wooden door, the aroma of coffee drifts from somewhere, bright bougainvillea climbs the white walls, and amidst all this, you walk on stones that others stepped on centuries before you.
It is right here that the history of Ibiza is at its most fascinating, because it is the story of a single hill and four civilisations. Dalt Vila is not simply an old town, but an accumulation of cities built one on top of the other. As early as the 7th century BC (654 BC), the Phoenicians founded a settlement nearby, Sa Caleta, and subsequently turned their attention to this strategic hill. They named it Iboshim, meaning the island of Bes, a deity who was the patron of dance and entertainment. This is quite ironic given Ibiza’s reputation today, is it not? Later, the Romans arrived, followed by the Moors, and in 1235 the city was conquered by the Catalans.
History Beneath Our Feet and the UNESCO Heritage
As we climbed, surrounded by the massive Renaissance walls and admitting that Mimi and I are very fond of old fortresses, we immersed ourselves in the city’s history. The walls, built between 1554 and 1585 by the Italian engineers Giovanni Battista Calvi and Jacobo Paleazzo Fratín, are truly impressive. However, UNESCO did not come to the island because of them, nor for the yachts or the beautiful houses.
The World Heritage site here is called “Ibiza, Biodiversity and Culture” and it represents an unusual combination of history and nature. It includes the Dalt Vila fortress, the Phoenician settlement, the underwater Posidonia meadows (which keep the water so crystal clear), and the Punic necropolis of Puig des Molins (Puig des Molins).
If you have ever wondered why the water around Ibiza and the Balearic Islands has that surreal, transparent turquoise colour, the answer lies precisely in this Posidonia. Also known as Neptune grass, it is actually not seaweed at all, but a true flowering plant with roots and leaves, found mainly in the Mediterranean Sea. These unique underwater ecosystems work as a massive natural filter that purifies the water and keeps it crystal clear.
We stopped at one of the bastions (Baluarte de San Jorge), from where old windmills could be seen in the distance. From afar, the hill looked almost like an ordinary part of the landscape. Yet in reality, beneath it lies Puig des Molins, a vast ancient necropolis with over 3,000 burial sites, part of that very same UNESCO heritage. Sometimes in Ibiza, history is quite literally beneath your feet.
The Cathedral of Santa Maria: The Reward at the Top
The walk up the slippery cobbles on a summer’s day was quite a challenge. Ani and Adi were already actively complaining about why we had taken them off the luxury ship only to make them sweat on the hills. But every drop of sweat was absolutely worth it.
At the top of the fortress stands the Cathedral of Santa Maria (Catedral de Santa María de las Nieves). It was built in the 13th century immediately after the Catalan conquest in 1235, right on the site of the former main mosque. The building was started in a strict Gothic style, and today it impresses with its many beautiful chapels and its predominantly 18th-century Baroque interior.
The square in front of it is a great spot to admire the view over the old houses, the yachts in the new port, the endless blue of the sea, and, on clear days, the silhouette of the neighbouring island of Formentera.
Ibiza Beyond the Party
As we began our descent, slipping through old tunnels past the town hall and the elegant Hotel Mirador de Dalt Vila, the children suddenly recovered their vital signs. Apparently, their systems are programmed to work exceptionally well when heading in the direction of ice cream.
When we finally returned to the port, we were drenched from the heat, slightly exhausted, and burdened with yet another batch of photos that I would have to sort through someday. We looked up again at Dalt Vila from below. Only this time, we knew exactly what lay behind those white walls.
Ibiza had only given us a few hours. There was no beach, no club, and no sunset with a cocktail in hand. There was a fortress, ice cream, a lot of walking, and history. Before we arrived, Ibiza to me was a sound: that specific image you get from adverts. After a few hours here, it began to be something else entirely. It became stone, white walls, the sea, and plenty of sunshine.
Perhaps that is exactly why I liked it. In just one day we saw only a small fraction of Ibiza, but it was enough to understand that the island has many more faces. And if we return someday, we will certainly be staying longer.
From here we set off on a journey to Palermo and then on to Rome.
