The Come Down

  Ibiza, Spain
Tuesday, September 26, 2006

We awoke only a few hours later after the incident. We wanted to quickly get our first meal in 2 days and stop by the local police station to file a report. Unfortunately, we were too late for breakfast so we headed straight to the little police office located only a few blocks from our hotel.

As we filled out the forms and explained to the nice police officer what had happened, a couple walked inside, looking distraught. We overheard them talking to the police officer and we were surprised to hear that they had also been robbed last night at the same hotel. As we apologized for overhearing the conversation, we learned that Renatta from Brazil and Max from USA, had been robbed for the second time in one week at the hotel. We were horrified and immediately decided to talk to the hotel director to receive an explanation, maybe get reimbursed.

After waiting for the director for about 3 hours, we were finally able to talk to him. He was a nice enough man, sensible to our request but nonetheless firm in his position that the hotel was not to be held responsible for any stolen or lost items. After about an hour talk, all we could manage to get from him was one free night, and the promise that the insurance company would get in touch with us very soon.

So with grim expressions, we quietly exited the hotel's premises and headed over to Bora Bora where Alex, the resident Dj, and Ross were waiting for us. Alex was nice enough to arrange a free lunch for us due to our mishap. We weren't too hungry so we just asked for a few salads and had a quiet lunch by the beach, trying to forget our misfortune and get on with the planning of the rest of our trip. We still had clubs to see, people to meet and late nights to party to.

After lunch, Bernie went back to the hotel and Ed and I took a walk on the beach. We talked a lot but mainly took pictures of the imminent sunset and the fishermen at bay with their fishing rods stuck on the sand near by. There was an abandoned sand castle left behind all alone in the shore and while Ed took some pictures of it, I analyzed the mastery with which it was made: sans the details, the form of the castle looked like a gothic cathedral, with high thin meticulously carved spires and lower vaults crossing from side to side.

My attention suddenly diverted to a fishing rod that suddenly came to life. An elderly fisherman rushed quickly to pull out the little fish putting up a fight. When he pulled it out, I couldn't help feel so sorry for the little flat-sided silver fish, who wriggled and squirmed as the fisherman tried to yank the hook. I can't ever bear to see an animal in pain so I turned away, biting my tongue to keep from bitching at the fisherman. A 747 Thompson airplane suddenly flew over our heads, as is so common in Ibiza. The airplanes are part of the landscape and I could now understand why in magazines and logos and graphic depictions of Ibiza, there is always an airplane through palm trees.

As the lights of Ibiza Town light up straight ahead and the sunlight gradually disappeared, Ed and I decided to head back to the hotel for a quick nap. None of us were in the mood for going out that night, even though we had arranged to do so, not because of the robbery incident, but because we were so exhausted. So we stayed in and watched TV, while Bernie and Ross went to Pacha for the closing party of Defected in Da House. I can now say I kinda regret not going to Pacha, but I am sure glad I got to sleep and rest....it was needed and well-deserved. Tomorrow would be another day....hopefully a much better one.