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Besos de Ibiza
Posted on: Wednesday, September 30, 2009
I’ve been away. Actually, to be perfectly honest, I’ve been back a couple of weeks, but I’ve been busy with family stuff. Some good, some not so good. That’s life, right?
But being away was wonderful. Mr. Prescott treated me to a perfect week, in a perfect place, on my favourite island. Yes, we went to Ibiza…again! This time, however, for the first time ever, we stayed in a hotel, which meant I didn’t have to do anything boring like shop for food, or cook, or even fold my pjs. All I had to do was kick back (do people still say “kick back”?!) and enjoy.
It was heavenly! We stayed at Es Cucons, a beautiful, family run “hotel rural” with just sixteen rooms, set in a wide, red-earthed valley planted with almond trees, just outside the sleepy village of Santa Ines. If you fancy a quiet, romantic getaway, go to Es Cucons. The décor is simple yet stunning, the staff is adorable and the pool is perfect.
And what about the food? Goodness me, the food is amazing! Mr Prescott and I couldn’t get enough of the "pan con tomate y jamon" (bread rubbed with fresh tomatoes, served with Spanish ham). Also, I’ve never been a great fan of fish, but the cook definitely had my taste buds in a tizzy! As for his pumpkin soup served with foie gras, well it was simply spectacular. Ibiza also now produces some wonderful wines. They taste like…Ibiza! Kind of dusky and dusty and…sexy! Yes, we definitely loved the food.
 Day after day, as I lay by the swimming pool, slitheringly slathered in Bobbi Brown’s divine smelli ng sun screen (“Beach” – SPF 15, which I’m told is being discontinued. Why, Bobbi, why? It’s my favourite.), I couldn’t help noticing that I wasn’t the only female guest with an increasingly distending stomach. The men didn’t seem to show any signs of holiday-induced bloating, in fact many had little bellies to start with. Not that the majority of women were reed-thin; most arrived looking reassuringly soft and white; clearly not the types to sup on a handful of undressed salad leaves. Of course, there were a couple of swizzle-stick-thin, ultra-tanned young bathing beauties sashaying around the pool, but I never experienced an ounce of jealousy, partly because I was far too relaxed, and partly because I’m beyond that. Life’s too short, don’t you think, and at this point I’ve got bigger fishies to fry. Besides, there’s nothing I enjoy more than a nice, long, delicious dinner accompanied by a good bottle of wine in my husband’s company. Never mind the consequences!When I wasn’t eating, or lying around sympathizing with the trials and tribulations of my sister-holidaymakers’ digestive tracts, I was either cooling off in the pool, powering through the sea (no jelly fish!), or visiting some of the wonderful women I know who live on the island. As usual, I pilfered my friend Victoria’s studio, unable to resist her latest collection of colorful clothes and jewelry.
I spent one morning in Ibiza town with my friend Anne, where we got into all kinds of….err, extra-curricular retail trouble! I also went sailing with Victoria, her husband François, my godson Emile (Emilio!) and my lovely friend Hilly.
Sailing was bliss. We bobbed out of San Antonio, where their lovely old wooden Ibicenco fishing boat is moored, and headed north-west, anchoring in an idyllic little cove where we splashed around for an hour or so, wishing for  dolphins. None came, but it didn’t matter; we just climbed back on board to lounge around on squishy cushions. Victoria had packed a thermos of tea and a couple of packets of biscuits which is always a treat, especially on a boat. As the sun set, we puttered back to the port taking loads of silly photographs and waving at all the trendy people hanging out at Café del Mar. That night, instead of a gourmet meal en tête-à-tête at Es Cucons, my husband and I opted for red wine with an alioli appetizer (a sort of garlic mayonnaise eaten with bread. Yes, I know, definitely “oh dear”), followed by salad, chips and lamb chops with our friends at Santa Inès’ cosy little family restaurant, Can Cosmi.
It was a great, blue and yellow, sunshiny week.
Lots of love,
Francesca
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