Light, shape and form

Ana Lui’s rise as Ibiza’s premier photographer has been stratospheric. Born in Warsaw, Ana graduated in Media Arts at Plymouth University after which she decided UK life was not for her. A season working in Ibiza cemented her love for the island and she made the move in 2007. Finding her island feet didn’t take long and she soon made her mark as Ibiza’s most sought-after wedding and event photographer, creating a brand that has seen her flown to nuptials all over the world. Having conquered the wedding market, Ana found herself in a position to add more bows to her quiver. She began to pursue her dream of branching into travel photography and her images – of Asia, the Caribbean, North Africa and Europe among other destinations – now grace the covers of the world’s leading travel magazines including Conde Nast Traveller UK. Never one to remain in the status quo, Ana is now focusing her lens on architecture, interiors and lifestyle. Inspiration came from roaming the globe for her travel photography, which often included shooting the most luxurious, unique properties and hotels. “I found that I really enjoyed that side of my work,” she says. “It’s about light and shape and form.”

Representing the choices of an architect and designer, using a camera and available light is an art form in itself. Everybody can take a snap of the Empire State building but few can truly capture its essence. “I am interested in telling a unique story of the people, idea and concept behind every design and structure,” explains Ana, who also styles the properties as she shoots. “I like to show the process that’s involved and all the emotions. It’s not typical estate agency photography.” As Ana has become more immersed in this new side of her work, she has developed a broad knowledge base. “I began to recognise designers by the style of their work and to understand the importance of certain materials,” she says. “It’s a different world for me and I’m totally fascinated by it.” This growing knowledge contributes a whole new meaning to her images, allowing for the design process to be transmitted through the camera and onto the page.

Read more about Ana Lui Photography

Dear influencers of the world…

Someone asked me a few days ago why I don’t ever come out from behind my curtain of anonymity as a writer, suggesting that if perhaps the world could see my face/clothes/breakfast and get to know me on more of a personal level, I might become what has now universally come to be known as… an influencer. I shuddered at the thought (although to be fair, the person in question meant it in a nice way). You see… I have a very strong opinion on what it means to be an influencer and after observing, and indeed interacting with, the flocks of them infiltrating Ibiza this past summer, I vowed to continue writing this blog under a pseudonym for as long as I live!

Don’t get me wrong. I believe there are real influencers in this world – people who have the power to influence others through their behaviour and actions. In the past, influencers were considered to be people who worked hard to build a reputation as an expert in a certain field, be it politics, fashion or media. They possessed a natural aptitude for their work or lifestyle; they worked hard; their gifts for communication and abilities to lead/sway the opinions of others made then very valuable assets to the people whose products or philosophies they promoted and represented. Influencers were highly respected. Just to be clear – it is not these influencers with whom I have beef!

As you probably know already, the word influencer has gone on to mean something entirely different to the aforementioned description in the past few years. These days, an influencer is considered to be someone who can use their reach on social media to help businesses and brands sell their products and services. The rise of this type of influencer is not surprising really – it’s like an extension of the influence of the girls in the popular clique at school. Everyone wants to wear what Regina George is wearing. And now that Regina and co have iPhones and Instagram, and can take/post endless photographs of themselves living their #bestlives, it’s easier than ever before for their admirers to imitate their looks/lives.

This is STILL not where my issue lies. Not with the Regina Georges or Cher Horowitzes of the world. Not even with Paris Hilton! The ‘first wave influencers’ as I like to call them were genuinely that. They were influential by nature; by social status; by taste and style. They were the kind of girls who grew up to be FROWers, catching the eyes of street style photographers. And so, it was only a matter of time before Insta-smart brands started noticing them and would enlist their help in increasing brand awareness by sending them free clothes and accessories to be seen in or inviting them to events. If the brands were lucky, the influencers would wear their clothes, be seen at their events and all of a sudden their hordes of adoring fans would follow suit. It’s logical really. I know I’ve certainly bought a few hundred pieces from Zara because it looked like something Kate Moss had worn ‘off-duty’.

What happened next is where I take issue with the influencers of today. All of a sudden, brands stopped relying on taking the risk of sending free clothes to influencers and started offering them real (big) money to start wearing them. A very clever move by the marketing minds behind the labels that eventually turned ‘influencing’ into an actual career. But if you’re wearing what someone is paying you to wear and you’re eating in a restaurant someone has invited you to for free and you’re arriving to a party in a heavily branded vehicle – are you really influential? Or have you become somewhat of a pawn for the advertising industry? The fact is, young girls today aspire to become influencers. They grow up with the desire to be Insta-famous; to want perfect bodies; to have millions of followers.

Whatever happened to wanting to grow up to be a teacher? A doctor? A zookeeper? An astronaut? A mother? A writer? A GOOD PERSON? This summer in Ibiza, the streets were overrun with beautiful girls (because let’s face it, to become an influencer these days one must be blessed with good genes) and their frantic #instahusbands chasing them around Ibiza like paparazzi with a professional camera. Restaurants, beach clubs and hotels are now inundated with requests for free meals or accommodation for visiting influencers in exchange for social media coverage. In fact, many of them are inviting influencers to spend time in their venues because this type of promotion is such a valuable commodity in this day and age. And that’s from top-tier influencers such as Chiara Ferragni (a true first waver) who recently had her bacherlorette party here in Ibiza, to lower-level ‘nano-influencers’ who are known for reaching a specific niche audience. What makes me sad is it’s just not real life and so many people are buying into it!

The clothes you see in the photos – paid for by advertisers. That glossy hair and flawless skin? Courtesy of a make-up artist and hair stylist – not to mention filters. The food you see artfully presented in photos? Went cold while they spent so long fussing over it. That one photo you see on Instagram? Took about two hours to achieve. I know this from experience. I have a few friends who are very well-known influencers in their home countries and I have been known question them at length about their integrity and motivation. One of them loves it (which makes me happy for her); another now hates it but it’s her bread and butter and she can’t afford to quit now (which makes me sad for her).

I don’t know about you, but it’s certainly not the way I want to live my life, which leads me back to the question about my anonymity. I love having the freedom to write about whatever I want, whenever I want. I love being able to express my true opinion. I relish being able to eat whatever I want, when I want (hello McDonald’s drive-thru!) and not have to think about how it is going to look in a photo (or whether it will make me gain weight!). I have fun choosing my own clothes and styling the way I look because that’s how I like it, even if it’s not on trend or goes horribly wrong. I often sit at dinner and leave my phone in my handbag. I never, ever stop to think about how many people have ‘liked’ my posts or watched my stories on Instagram (unless it’s a photo of my cats, in which case I want them to go viral). I only go to the parties I want to go to and I’m not worried about what people will think if I’m not ‘seen’ everywhere on the Ibiza social scene.

Most of all, I am extremely happy people do not judge me – and therefore my blog – based on my looks or taste. You will read this blog if you like it, or you might mark it as spam if you don’t (and I respect your right to do so). If anything I write influences you, then I am flattered. But I don’t think that makes me deserving of freebies in a restaurant or a shop (‘don’t you know who I am?’). I also wouldn’t accept money or free things to write about something I didn’t believe in. I can say this with integrity because I have done it in the past. I was a beauty editor for a glossy magazine in my former life and boy did I perpetuate some myths! The experience was eye-opening and I feel like this blog is my chance to atone for some of my former sins. And so, I pledge to tell the truth… and to write about the REAL Ibiza. Not the glossy, fake, idealised version of the island, but the day-to-day trials and tribulations – as trivial as they may be.

I understand this is the way of the world now. ‘Influencing’ is modern-day marketing and until there’s the inevitable backlash, there’s no point in ignoring it. There’s nothing wrong with aspiring to be influential of course. But whatever happened to wanting to influence people for the greater good of the world? Dear influencers of the world… if you have taken the time out of your busy influencing schedule to read this blog, then I implore you. PLEASE use your voice to do good. Take the thousands of euros you made from a sponsored Instagram post and turn it into something positive. Raise awareness for good causes. Encourage people to vote. To donate to charity. To help animals. To stop using plastic. To say no to drugs. To stop gun violence. To help homeless people in the cold. To volunteer. To BE THEMSELVES. A world where we’re all carbon copies of one another isn’t a very exciting world at all, no matter what an advertiser pays you to post. That’s why I live here in Ibiza. Because here, individuality is still encouraged… no matter how many influencers fly in on their sponsored private jets each year!

Luxury solo retreats

Not all retreats are created equal at Pure Seven – the luxury wellness centre and spa at the heart of the five-star 7Pines Kempinski Ibiza. And that’s intentional, because no two retreats are ever alike, just as no two participants on a retreat are ever alike. Spa director Lucía Peris has designed a series of four wellness retreats tailored to resort guests; bespoke programmes that are completely customised to suit the individual. Whether you’re holidaying with family yet craving some me time, or travelling solo and looking to embark on a complete lifestyle change, Lucía and her team of health, fitness and wellbeing experts can create specific experiences to suit your needs.

Your home for the period of your retreat is a luxurious suite in the clifftop Cala Conta resort. Choose your preferred accommodation – one or two bedrooms with cliff, garden, pool or bay views are all on offer – and make yourself at home within the stylish surrounds. Open, spacious and decked out in raw natural finishes and in a chic Mediterranean colour palette, it’s a far cry from sharing a double room with a stranger, or sleeping in a yurt, as retreat accommodation is typically portrayed. 7Pines Kempinski Ibiza, and indeed these wellness retreats, are designed for a different type of traveller – those seeking complete luxury, privacy, discretion and comfort. Here, you will feel at home with all the benefits and facilities associated with five-star travel

All retreats start with a personal consultation prior to arrival, followed by another on check-in to allow Lucía and her team devise exactly the right programme for you. All retreat guests have daily teas and juices designed specifically to suit them, plus healthy cuisine co-created by 7Pines Kempinski Ibiza executive chef Bijendra Yadav and Lucía, with the understanding that nourishing oneself must continue outside of the actual spa experience in order to be effective. The first retreat option is based around the concept of de-stressing and pressing the reset button on life.

The Wellness Detox Program can be taken as a two-day programme – ideal for those with a busy lifestyle looking for a weekend away, or alternatively, as a way to ease into your holiday experience and pave the way for further relaxation – or as a six-day experience. The package includes lifestyle coaching, guided mindfulness and fitness activities, spa treatments and rituals for the body and face – working with aromatherapy, hot stones and organic products to offer a deep sense of relaxation and restoration.

The next alternative is the Rebalance Program – a two or six-day experience designed to restore balance between the mind and body. After your consultations, you’ll be treated to Ayurvedic spa treatments, an oxygen bar session, acupuncture, Thai massage, guided mindfulness and fitness activities and more – fusing Eastern wellness philosophies with the contemporary ethos of the spa itself allows you to connect deeply into yourself while still feeling in complete luxury at all times.

For some people, retreats are not all about kicking back and relaxing and with this in mind, the Get Fit Program has been created for those looking for a kickstart with getting their bodies back on track. It may be after an indulgent holiday, before preparing to re-enter reality or vice versa – a six-day body boost before continuing on with your Ibiza beach holiday. Fitness, strength and flexibility sessions are balanced with regenerative massages and oxygen bar sessions – ensuring you don’t burn out or overdo it. On completion of your personalised retreat, your trainer will help devise a workout plan for you to take home so you can retain your new sense of wellbeing.

Last, but absolutely not least, is the Weight-Loss Program – an experience that has been created with much thought and attention to detail, allowing participants to reach their goal weight in a healthy way, balancing nutrition, training and relaxation. For many people, adopting a new diet, exercise regime or lifestyle can be difficult among the day to day pressures of daily life, so taking six days to focus purely on yourself at 7Pines Kempinski Ibiza can be the inspiration you need to get started. Expect fitness and nutritional coaching sessions, daily personal training, oxygen bar sessions, luxurious spa rituals, the signature Pure Seven massage and more, plus you’ll receive a personalised training and nutrition program to take home and continue achieving results.

Waking up in the stunning surrounds of 7Pines Kempinski Ibiza daily will have you bounding out of bed; being nurtured by the team of experts will have you feeling supported like never before, while the results you’ll achieve are all down to your own hard work and dedication. As you check-out of the resort (or get ready stay on for some more downtime), the feeling of achievement is one you should hold onto – your very own luxury solo retreat done and dusted – now you’re ready to take on the world. Editor’s note: 7Pines Kempinski Ibiza closes temporarily for winter on November 19, 2018 and re-opens in March 2018.

Visit the White Ibiza spas guide to enquire with Pure Seven

And just like that, it was winter in Ibiza…

One minute I was on the beach in Benirras, thinking about what a glorious extended summer we were having here in Ibiza; within 12 hours, one thunderous downpour, an extreme temperature drop and the annual clock change, it seemed winter had officially arrived. Since then, I’ve had to pull out all my scarves, jumpers, coats and even Ugg boots; I’ve had to put the winter duvet on the bed; I’ve resorted to turning the heating on at night; I’ve packed away the roof terrace furnishings and the cats have started snuggling under the covers at night.

Despite the fact this dramatic overnight seasonal change has happened each and every year that I’ve lived in Ibiza, somehow it always manages to surprise me. It really is a tale of two seasons here – poor autumn and spring are always overshadowed by their more prominent siblings summer and winter. You never hear islanders declare their love for springtime like Parisians do; there’s no chance to embrace the colours of autumn the way New Yorkers do. We simply switch from summer mode to winter mode in the blink of an eye – and most of us will tell you we wouldn’t have it any other way.

The longer you live here, the more you love winter. The same goes for holidaymakers too – the more you visit in the summer, you’re eventually lured to visit in the winter and next thing you know you’re buying a house here, working remotely and living happily ever after (or so I hear anyway). Winter in Ibiza was once described by a very well-known, wise man on the island (let’s call him Mr W – no relation, in case you were wondering!) as the reward we get for surviving the summer months – and I couldn’t have said it better myself!

OK, so I can hear many people thinking what’s so good about wearing coats and Uggs while it rains? You can do that pretty much anywhere in the world right? Well, yes of course you can but the beauty of winter in Ibiza is that it just doesn’t get much worse than this! In fact, after the cold November rains we’re experiencing this week – signifying the shift from summer to winter – things generally return to sunny normality, albeit quite a few degrees colder than in the summer months but if you know where to go, you can find plenty of suntraps that make it possible to dine alfresco, eat on the beach, walk in nature and watch spectacular sunsets all year round.

What I do find weird about this instant move from high season to low season is that you don’t get any chance to ease into things. The joy of trans-seasonal layering is lost here – light cardigans and scarves are completely unnecessary. One day you’re wearing flip flops and admiring the colour of your pedicure – but the next day you’re in boots and there your feet shall remain for the next five months. You’re used to flicking your hair over your shoulders in the summer breeze like a shampoo commercial then it’s tangled up like a giant dreadlock for half a year thanks to furry collars, scarves and beanies so you resort to perma-braiding.

The environment in which you live also changes abruptly overnight. After sleeping in very little clothing for months on end, all of a sudden it’s full flannel pyjamas, socks and a cardigan by the end of the bed for those middle-of-the-night bathroom dashes. The fresh air that was once flowing through your home 24/7, when all the windows and balcony doors were open, is suddenly banished – all windows, doors and shutters are tightly sealed to avoid any of that icy humidity getting inside. You (and obviously when I say you, I really mean me) can’t even hang your clothes to dry on the roof terrace anymore unless you’re vigilant about bringing it in before the afternoon damp floats in over the airwaves.

On the flipside, it’s the same when summer comes around again. There comes a particular day when you step outside in full winter garb and sweat starts running down your spine in rivets – the next day you shimmy back into those summer dresses, let your hair flow free and make that appointment with your pedicurist, pronto! But that’s another story – for now, we’re battening down the virtual hatches, stocking up on cooking supplies, planning all the TV shows we can binge watch and feeling overjoyed that it’s dark by 6pm. Because just like that, it was winter in Ibiza – if you ask me, the most wonderful time of the year!

Something wicked this way comes…

Anyone who knows me will tell you I’ve always leant a little towards the weirder side of life. Delve a little deeper into my past and my mother will tell you this was obvious from a very, very young age. In fact, one of my earliest memories is my mum suggesting that I could quite possibly be possessed (yes, I’m totally serious), while a later one implied our family had been cursed by witches and our home was haunted by ghosts (believe what you will) and it was always drummed into me that I must never ever bring tarot cards or Ouija boards into the house. Of course, that only made me want them more. I’ve been obsessed with horror movies since I was pre-teen. Freddie Kruger may, or may not have been my first crush – it was him or Johnny Depp, both were in the film and I’ll never tell!

I was always morbidly fascinated with death and anything slightly macabre – The Elephant Man was my favourite movie when I was only waist-high; I have vivid memories of loving a Diane Arbus photography exhibition while in primary school while Stephen King was my author of choice. For a while there, I wanted to grow up to be a taxidermist. The Lost Boys was the first movie I ever saw at the cinema alone. I later built a coffin that housed my vampire related art works (and today I scoff at all the Twi-hards out there) in high school. The first apartment I ever moved into just so happened to overlook an ancient seaside cemetery that I would stroll around at dusk, getting to know the headstones of its inhabitants. And of course, as most readers know, I’ve always had a cat by my side…

You get the picture, right? I didn’t go into life seeking out scary things – scary things just found their way to me. Well, except for that time I holidayed in Mexico City and made the pilgrimage to a tiny island in the canals called Isla de las Muñecas, which is strung from top to toe with creepy plastic dolls (Google it – if you’re anything like me, you’ll love it. If not… move along!) When it came to the scariest night of the year however, sadly, little Miss W grew up on the wrong side of the equator to celebrate Halloween. It just wasn’t part of our culture. I’d watch American films and dream of trick or treating, pumpkin carving and of course, grotesque costumes. But it seemed it was never to be… until I moved to Ibiza, that is.

As I reached the end of my very first summer season, so many witchy moons ago, I started to hear talk of Halloween and my interest was piqued. I didn’t think Spain would be an adopter of this most Yankee of ‘holidays’ and yet, there was an entire party dedicated to creatures of the night. And this was not just any party. This was Ibiza’s original Halloween bash – the annual Bambuddha Halloween Dinner. Being my first season, I had no idea how big islanders went when it came to costumes, and so – scared I was going to be overdressed – I went as (my heart shudders now at the very thought) a basic sexy cat. From the minute our car drove into the Bambuddha car park, and I could see the spooky swirls of mist over the restaurant’s roof (I still don’t understand how they did it!), then stepped through the spider’s webs to get inside, I knew I’d made a gross miscalculation.

It was like walking onto the set of a horror movie. I really couldn’t recognise ANYONE. The entire restaurant had been turned into a haunted house. There were bloodcurdling screams of terror coming through the walls (ok, it was probably the speakers) and while for some people it was like something out of a nightmare, for me it was like all my Halloweens had come at once. It really was a dream come true. I knew, at that very moment, that I was home (and since then, I’ve never left!). Obviously I vowed never to stoop to such a costume low again and since then, I’ve loved the challenge of coming up with a get-up that would scare Beelzebub back to where he came from while simultaneously masking my identity!

Fast forward over a decade and Halloween in Ibiza is an institution. The holiday has pretty much extended the summer season all the way to October 31 (most locals will tell you winter begins on November 2… the day they get home/wake up from Halloween) and weirdly, the weather also usually stays blissfully sunny right up until that point too, turning grey like clockwork on November 3 (side note: 2018 is looking a bit wet and wild – though to me, this is how Halloween should be!). The party scene has exploded and now includes a virtual road map of places and spaces that would quite honestly take two days to visit. And many people do this. Full flights from the mainland and the UK jet in the week and days leading up to the event, and baggage handlers are so petrified at the things the X-Ray machine spots in checked baggage they just let them go on their merry way.

VIEW THE HALLOWEEN EVENTS CALENDAR

While there are indeed a plethora of parties to attend, for me, Halloween in Ibiza is all about two events. Everything begins at Pikes, where the Brothers Grim have spent the past week transforming what was once a whimsical and quirky hotel into a true house of horrors. There’s no telling what it will look like this year, but let’s just say previous incarnations have included an authentic style kill room with the walls smeared in blood. Real blood. If heaven is a place on earth for Halloween lovers, it’s got to be Pikes. As the sun starts to come up, all roads then lead towards Boutique Hostal Salinas – and when I say all roads, I really mean it.

Once each and every Halloween party around the island has closed its doors, BHS becomes the one and only destination where it’s still acceptable to be in full face paint, carry plastic weapons, be drenched in fake blood or in any kind of costume whatsoever. This is the after party to end all after parties and by the end of it, the venue truly looks as if there has been a massacre. J-u-u-u-s-t the way I like it. Halloween in Ibiza is not for the faint hearted (side note: if you have kids, there are actually some great family-friendly events that take place before the freaks truly come out). It’s where everything you’ve ever dreamed could be under your bed comes out for the night. To me, it’s like my Christmas (though I am also quite partial to that holiday too); it’s the night I look forward to for 12 whole months of the year. It also falls the night before a national holiday in Spain, so no one (except for the ACTUAL vampires) needs to go to bed before the sun comes up – and that, dear readers is the point where the lines between fantasy and reality become a little blurred. Sure, it’s creepy. As the sun shines over BHS at around 8am and you become aware that absolutely everyone is still in full costume (no changes or wash-offs are allowed) – that’s the moment when the real Halloween black magic really starts to happen. Get ready Ibiza… in just two more sleeps, something wicked this way comes. And if you can recognise me… well, I haven’t done my Halloween job. Photography by Phrank for Pikes

Why does it always rain on me?

I know, I know. I am the blogger who literally prays for it to rain so I can write about it. I am the person in Ibiza who shrills with glee the second the first hard rain hits Ibiza in summer and who thrives on it when it sets in during the winter months. I am the one who gloats about loving the rain more than any other type of weather in the world. But today, my dear readers, the shoe is finally on the other foot. I’m on holiday (staycation style), I have friends (with toddlers in tow) visiting Ibiza and it’s forecast to rain every damn day this week. And so, with my leopard print umbrella at the ready, I find myself scouring the internet looking for things to do when it rains in Ibiza. And dammit, if it’s not a stream of my own bragging blogs that come up in the Google search results! I feel an overwhelming urge to take to social media and apologise to anyone who’s ever gone to read one of my blogs for rainy day inspiration and came up (pardon the pun) dry. Please, accept my humble apologies if you are one of those people.

So now I have to use my brain. I have to get creative. While Mummy, Daddy and Miss W could happily take to a beach restaurant and enjoy the wild weather views over a bottle of vino tinto and some tasty Mediterranean cuisine, the little ones are going to need a little more in the way of entertainment than a sippy cup and some patatas bravas (sin bravas, obvs). Plus, there’s the matter of strapping a two-year old into a pram and manoeuvring our way up through the wet, slippery, windy Dalt Vila streets while trying desperately to cling to her six-year old brother’s hand and pretend we’re having fun… and that’s before we reach the 95 stairs it takes to walk up to my car. Here’s another time my gloating has come to bite me. I love, love, love living in Dalt Vila. I love having a lifestyle that generally means if it rains I can stay home for days – it’s totally acceptable to cancel meetings if it’s rainy in Ibiza and these days we’ve finally got enough places that home deliver to keep things interesting on the eating front. But telling a kid you live in a castle just doesn’t cut the mustard when they’re sitting INSIDE a humid old apartment with nothing to play with and they can’t see the tower, the cannons, the drawbridge and the enormous wooden gates. As far as these kids are concerned, coming to stay with Miss W in Ibiza is an epic fail).

So next, I turn to my friends who are mums – and there are quite a few, for which I’m grateful – and yet, I find there are still not a whole lot of options. Almost everything for little kids seems to be geared towards the great outdoors. The rare few museums aren’t going to be interesting. All the restaurants with kids’ clubs are closed. The cinema is in Spanish. The caves, while underground, are pretty grim. Shopping is pretty much all aimed at adults. Bowling doesn’t open until late which doesn’t agree with the little tummies’ dinner times. They’re too young for escape rooms. And so… we go back to those most old fashioned of rainy day activities. We build forts under tables. We secretly thank Walt Disney for making such an impression of me at an early age, which means I am now the proud owner of a large collection of movies, old and new. We turn plastic water bottles into robots; we make fake cupcakes out of balls carefully placed into candles (clever huh?); we pray my cats have the patience to be chased around in circles for the rest of the week. And we wait, watching the ever-changing weather forecast and hope the sun’ll come out tomorrow…

Come for a holiday in October, she said (she being me). It will be fun, she said, As a matter of fact, she actually said it would be glorious weather, the beaches would be deserted and there’d be loads of great things to see and do. I guess the moral of this story is, you should be careful what you wish for. Because, just like me, you might get it when you actually don’t want it!

Planet wellness

Accepting responsibility for the trace we leave on the world has become an issue that’s more prevalent than ever – there’s undoubtedly a growing global consciousness surrounding throwaway culture and a move towards a more sustainable state of living, and mindset. That’s why it’s so utterly refreshing when a brand like 7Pines Kempinski Ibiza arrives in the Balearics with an unshakeable dedication to eco-conscious travel. Here, they’ve become frontrunners of multiple sustainability efforts, including introducing Pure Seven – the island’s first ever spa designed to have as little impact on the environment as possible. A sprawling 56,000 metres of resort set atop stunning clifftops overlooking the majestic Es Vedrà, 7Pines Kempinski Ibiza has a mantra for doing things differently. The hotel is a trailblazer of new ideas, and in the short time that it’s been open, has already proven that the concepts of luxury and sustainability can and do work harmoniously alongside one another – just because you favour one, doesn’t mean the other must be neglected. Pure Seven is the perfect example of this ethos – a microcosm of unrivalled, lavish bliss that simultaneously champions an eco-friendly approach, it’s a space where you can totally relax in the knowledge you’re doing right by both yourself and your surroundings.

This ideology is palpable as soon as you step foot inside Pure Seven. A feat of masterful eco-friendly design, the inside space mirrors the outside and vice versa. Huge, floor-to-ceiling windows face out to sea, giving the impression of a vast expanse of endless blue, at the same time inviting guests to feel totally at one with nature – indeed, it’s hard not to when the Mediterranean stretches out before you, laid out like a bobbing, sparkly blanket. The interiors too, sing with inspiration from the natural world. Furnishings come in natural wood, wicker and leather, and there’s a tactile physicality to every feature – smooth and silky take precedence over gloss and shine. Products too, are rooted in concepts that do as little damage as possible to the environment. Brands like ESPA and NEOM are heavily featured, with both specialising in natural, paraben-free skincare. ESPA, for example, developed its products while working with a range of biochemists, skin experts and aromatherapists, combining holistic knowledge with scientific methods and the best natural products sourced from around the globe to provide the best possible results. NEOM meanwhile, focuses on 100-percent natural fragrances, which can be used to relieve stress, aid sleep, boost energy and lift mood. In addition, the spa also stocks a range of eco-friendly products for skin and hair from brands including Moroccan Oil and Soleil Toujours.

Then there are the treatments themselves, which naturally, all revolve around a holistic approach. The Pure Seven signature massage promotes a sense of deep relaxation using essential oils like lavender and palmarosa, in addition to a series of Ayurvedic massages including Abhyanga and Udvartana. The former uses organic aromatherapy oils to instil a deep sense of calm, while the latter involves a scrub made from a blend of natural herbs and grains, which deeply stimulates the skin’s metabolism. And it doesn’t end there. Pure Seven is all about the all-important little details, too. TWG Tea is served at the spa and is completely organic – even the bag itself is organic cotton, and then served in china cups. Robes are made using organic cotton – there are no manmade materials in sight. The hair salon uses entirely organic products, and the entire spa is plastic free so water is served in glasses, and fruit – sourced locally and organic – is served on proper crockery. Order the ‘healthy menu’ while you’re at the spa and it’s delivered by an electric bike and served on biodegradable tableware.

At Pure Seven, and at 7Pines Kempinski Ibiza in general, the emphasis is that wellness is a way of life, and the idea of wellness extends beyond ourselves – it’s much more than that. It’s about protecting our local environment, it’s about looking after the planet, and it’s about taking care of ourselves in mind, body and spirit. Neither concept is exclusive, so if we start to think inclusively, eventually these ideas will become ingrained in our psyches. Perhaps then we can really start making a difference to the world we live in.

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From dusk till dawn and back again

I’ve always considered myself a night person. When I moved to Ibiza – a place famous for attracting nocturnal creatures from all over the globe – I truly felt like I’d come home. I’d discovered a place where everything seemed to happen after the sun went down; where you could dance till dawn or work till dawn – and for a solid period there, I even managed to combine both. My life was a dusk till dawn affair for many years (with the odd sunny beach day thrown in for good measure) but what I didn’t realise for a very long time was that there was another type of lifestyle happening on the other side of the clock… enter the dawn till dusk brigade. Of course, over the years my lifestyle eventually shifted gears enough that dusk till dawn activities became – as they are for most people – more of a weekend affair and my days were pretty routine (life as a middle aged party girl just does not appeal to me). Despite this, I have always clung to the idea of being a night person; I still stay up late reading, watching movies, talking to friends in other hemispheres, writing articles, researching travel, obsessively cleaning – you name it, I’ll start doing it as soon as the clock strikes 12 (midnight, obvs). Then, when morning rolls around as it inevitably does every single day, I have to hit the snooze button five times and drag myself out of bed to face the day.

More recently – as in the last month – there’s been an even bigger shift in my daily behaviour. You see, I’ve been working on some projects that require me to be up, dressed and out the door before the sunrise – and while in my former life, I would have just stayed awake and powered through, these days I can’t really afford to be tired, hungover, snappy or inattentive on the job. And so, I have had to forcibly adjust my sleeping schedule for the time being. The first few days were really hard – because of course, my overactive mind couldn’t fall asleep just because my head was on the pillow at 10pm. It’s just not that simple. On that first morning – bleary eyed and clutching a highly inappropriate energy drink as I trudged up the cobbled streets of Dalt Vila in the dark, I was rewarded with a vision so magical it was well worth getting out of bed for. Sure, I’ve seen like a zillion sunrises coming home from Ibiza clubs or at an after party – but there’s something different about your energy, as you’re waking up as the sun is rising. It’s like you’re in sync with the sun – the stronger it gets, the stronger you get, and by the time she’s high in the sky you’re, well, you’re not actually high, since you’re not in a nightclub, but you’re buzzing all the same. The cobwebs you felt when you woke up have been shaken off and you see everything in vivid, living colour.

Of course, by the time 5pm arrived I was well in need of a siesta – as regular readers of this blog know, I love a good siesta on the best of days, let alone on those where you’ve been up since before the dawn. And man, was I tired. In fact, I could liken it to jet lag. My body clock was well and truly messed and and trying to auto-correct itself. So I foolishly had a nap and then wouldn’t you know it, later that night when I was trying to lullaby myself to sleep, I was wide awake as usual. And then the next morning was a replay of the one before. And so it went on… but over the course of two weeks, my body clock started to do as it was told. The more sunrises we saw (and when I say we, I mean me and my body clock), the more we came to realise that they are every bit as magical as sunsets. It’s just that there aren’t a whole slew of bars playing Balearic beats (or full-on tech-house depending on where you choose to watch them) dedicated to them. But that’s what makes the sunrise even more special; it’s the silence that surrounds it. The breeze rustling the tree tops, the birds slowly starting to chirp, the waves lapping the shoreline – the sounds of life unfolding naturally, as it should be.

After a month of life in the dawn till dusk brigade, I found it easy to drift off to sleep at the time I allocated as my bedtime. I no longer needed to hit the snooze button five times – I was naturally waking up j-u-u-s-t before I’d set that alarm every day. And the most surprising part (for me) is – I was waking up bright eyed and raring to go. On those days where I wasn’t required on location, I’d get up early anyway and make the most of those blissful early hours at the computer, before the emails and the whatsapps and the whatnots all started pinging. I really had to wonder – had I turned into (gasp!) A MORNING PERSON? Ultimately, time will tell. My sunrise project is now over and I’ve got the choice of returning to life as a night person, or embracing this new morning persona and seeing what comes with it. In a way, I wish I could fuse the old me with the new me to create an around the clock character who gets the benefit and beauty of the sunrise hours combined with the fun and fabulousness of the night. But I know in real life, that’s not sustainable. Well, not for long anyway. Right now, as the season has changed, there’s a chill in the air early in the morning that already has me reaching for my Ugg boots and woolly sweaters when I get out of bed. There is a very fair chance that as the temperature drops even further, the duvet will entice me to stay in bed longer. But… we will see. Watch this space.

24 hours in Formentera

From beachfront yoga and authentic hippy markets to magical full moon parties by the sea, here you’ll find many a place honouring the island’s bohemian roots. Once you’ve experienced island culture beyond the famous boats and beach restaurants, typical Formentera life leaves you craving so much more…

8.30am – Yoga

No Formentera holiday is complete without a session of morning yoga and the tranquil side of Playa de Migjorn is the ideal setting to explore ‘un camino de vida’. As the rest of the island awakens from its slumber, Gecko Beach Club hosts complimentary classes for guests every day, while those seeking a drop in class can visit Hostel Aigua Clara where professional and experienced, health conscious instructors offer unique yoga workshops every morning in front of the sea, to awaken the body and take you on a spiritual journey whilst surrounded by nature. www.hostalaiguaclara.com – +34 622 306 198

10am – Breakfast

The most important meal of the day is also made even better with sea views, and Las Playas Dunas is one of Formentera’s best kept secret spots – one that’s well worth the dusty journey along sandy track roads leading to another section of Playa de Migjorn. Tucked within sand dunes, this traditional and charming Spanish breakfast spot is open from 9am and offers spectacular views of the deep blue sea. Tuck into a delicious buffet breakfast on the beachy terrace leading out the inviting infinity pool, which echoes the curve of the cliffside. www.dunasplaya.com –+43 971 32 80 52

12pm – Beach

Located to the left of the ribbon of road leading towards La Mola is the secluded beach of Es Calo – its unspoiled rugged cliffside offering a distinct change from the vastness of Playa de Migjorn. A stretch of the stunning cliffside plunges into the sea, creating a unique view and protected bay in which to swim. Three small coves appear like perfect blue lagoons with soft sandy shores, visited primarily by locals due to the secluded location. A tranquil resting point for a couple of hours of ‘you time’ before getting back on the road again.

2pm – Lunch

The journey up to La Mola is a breezy, sight-seeing spectacle with the added bonus of finding parts of the island you didn’t know existed. Recently refurbished, with a Mediterranean inspired interior and a menu brimming with fresh seafood dishes, Can Pascual competes as one of the best fish restaurants on the island. Tastefully decorated with organic wood and bamboo furnishings, polished concrete floors and fresh whites combined with tropical, glass bottle greens. Open-plan seating merges the inside with out, for a trendy, cool and collected place to stop for lunch. www.canpasqualrestaurant.com – +34 971 327 014

5.30pm – Hippy Market

Every Wednesday and Sunday from May to October, the island’s local creators, artists and musicians gather from 5pm at the authentic Hippy Market in the village of La Mola, at the highest southern point of the island. Here, you can feel the essence of original bohemian Formentera life. The joyful and colourful market is reminiscent of a time when hippies from around the world were beckoned by the freedom and peace Formentera could afford them. The space is transformed into a lively centre of culture where you can shop for a variety of fashion creations, ceramics, and handmade jewellery, while live music plays for a relaxed and fun afternoon.

7.30pm – Sunset

A visit to La Mola is made even more worth the drive up the winding mountain road by the unique and striking birds-eye view of the island from the top. This sight is best seen towards the end of the day, most notably at sunset when the outline of the island is prominent and glowing beneath the candy floss sky. There is a perfect lookout point midway at El Mirador restaurant, where you can stop for a sundowner and absorb the unique scenery before you descend the mountain. +34 971 327 037

9.30pm – Dinner

Sometimes you have to travel that extra mile to find some place special. With a true sense of exclusivity, this quaint, stylish and homely restaurant is hidden in the forest, at the base of the hillside leading to La Mola. Fairy lights light the pathway to a cosy hammock area where you can enjoy an aperitif before indulging in Italian-influenced cuisine with a modern Mediterranean twist. It is neither fussy nor pretentious but calm and comforting – owned and run by two respectful Italian brothers whose passion, charm and sophistication is reflected in their service, and quirky and inventive touches such as homemade flavoured breads. +34 971 327 472

11.30pm – Drinks

One cannot leave Formentera without a visit to the famous Blue Bar and thankfully, this sunset spot is also a popular moonlight haunt. Open until 4am nightly, Blue Bar opened in the 60s and was later transformed into a cosmic inspired chill-out, hosting unforgettable sunsets, magnificent views and trance vibes. Legends such as Bob Marley and Pink Floyd have frequented this bar over the years (among others), though it’s now renowned for an eclectic mix of music from visiting and resident DJs. Choose between grooving on the tiered seating overlooking the sea, dancing beneath the moon and the stars or in the quirky interior. www.bluebarformentera.com – +34 666 75 81 90

1am – Sleep

Inspired by the seaside elegance of the 50s, Gecko Beach Club & Hotel invites cosmopolitan travellers to experience their very own version of a ‘Balearic Riviera’. Rooms are decorated in neutral colour palettes, with retro inspired furniture, lots of floor to ceiling glass and mirrors. Superior rooms include swish private patios and terraces with panoramic views of Playa de Migjorn or the hotel’s lush gardens, which overlook the beach. It’s impossible not to sleep well when this is your home away from home for the night. www.geckobeachclub.com – +34 971 328 024 Words and photos by Mimi Gerrard-Morgan Main Es Calo photo by Ana Lui

If you know, you know…

What originally meant you had some kind of insider information, that you’re privy to some kind of knowledge only a few others had access to, that what you know just can’t be taught or learned, or that you’re a part of something quite secular, seems to have taken on the new meaning of: come to my party. There was one particular party who took it and made it their own at one point, and on the basis of the kinds of events they were throwing – on the DL, kind of secretive, guest list only, last minute location announcements etc – it was warranted. These days, that particular party, and the people behind it, are quite successful and as such, they’ve dropped the catchy little slogan. Why? Because EVERYONE knows. It’s no secret. In fact, it’s now quite commercial (and that’s totally ok – their gimmick worked, they moved on).

But this summer, I think I’ve read the words ‘if you know, you know’ more times than I’ve read ‘sorry for my delayed reply’ on an email (and if you live and work in Ibiza, you’ll know that’s quite some statement). Marco Carola is playing a 17-hour beach set – if you know, you know. We know, we know. We all know. We know exactly what happens when Marco Carola has his last Red Bull (ahem) at 6am and can’t get to sleep after his gigs wrap up. Ricardo Villalobos is back on the Amnesia terrace – if you know, you know. Yes, we know. It’s written right there on the billboard. OK, so maybe the fresh-faced island newbies don’t understand the significance of Ricky V wobbling around in the booth at 7am (will he or won’t he play a funeral march?) but they have the internet. They have memes. THEY KNOW. Top secret special guest DJ at [insert record label name here] villa party – if you know, you know. And if you don’t, it’s fairly easy to guess so if you want to see the face of that brand play one more time, you get yourself to the party. Because YOU KNOW. Full moon cave rave – if you know, you know. Maybe you do… or maybe someone just happened to WhatsApp you the location pin. Fresh figs ripe for the taking from a farm in San Miguel – wait, no, no one knows about that and I’m not going to tell them!

Now I’m not saying I’ve never read those words and instantly wanted to find out what it was I apparently didn’t know at the time. I’ve had my share of ‘dammit, why didn’t I know that earlier moments’ in Ibiza, for sure. But this summer, it’s like the phrase that cried wolf. There’s a new whizz-bang healer type person giving treatments and administering ancient plant medicine in the forest – if you know, you know. Nah, I’m good thanks. There’s a party with ‘authentic local vibes’ – if you know, you know. Possibly, but chances are it’s just the same as that other party the same people were promoting in the same location last month. Aliens above Es Vedra, mermaids below it – if you know, you know. Been there, done that, wrote the blog… What I DO I know is that I’m no longer intrigued by reading if you know, you know, or seeing the hashtag #ifyouknowyouknow. It’s lost its magic, its power, its potency, its magnetic pull. If anything, I feel like it’s become a little condescending or patronising this year, like if you DON’T know, you’re not welcome here rather than you’re invited to come and find out. But you know what I know? I know we need a new way to say if you know, you know… you know what I mean? Photos taken at… well, if you know, you know. And if you don’t, I’ll let you in on the secret – it’s Pikes.