Ibiza, But Not As You Know It
A quick stop in a dream location.
Kind of Wild is a weekly newsletter on trying to live ethically while still enjoying life. I am a 40-something published author, podcaster, public speaker, charity PR specialist and writer. I speak four languages and live in Brighton, UK. I’ve been vegan for over a decade. I want to save the world - but I also want to experience it.
You know you have a dream job when you’re sent on a work trip to Ibiza, of all places.
As I step off the plane in 26-degree heat at 9.30pm, I can hardly believe I’m here. For just two days, sure, but I am here nonetheless.
I’ve wanted to go to Ibiza for years. Not because I’m a house music fan - aside from the odd Avicii song, I’m a rock n’roll girl through and through. Nor was it for the parties or clubs, although I’m certainly not opposed to those. What drew me in was the bohemian, luxe-hippie vibe of the island, the one that’s all açai bowls, floaty kaftans, beachside meditation and sunset yoga. That’s 100% my jam, and had this island only been cheaper (it’s steep, I tell you) then I’d have made my way over here much sooner. So when opportunity manifested in the form of a work trip to the Ibiza Fashion Festival, I was booking tickets faster than you can say “EasyJet.”
If you missed it (and I don’t know how you could, I never shut up about it), I work at animal rights charity PETA. Among the projects I work on in my role as Manager of PR Projects, I devised our Feather-Free Pledge, calling on designers and other fashion-industry entities to move away from using bird feathers in their work. One of those signing on was the Ibiza Fashion Festival, which is dedicated to promoting sustainability and a slow-fashion approach in their work. Not only is the festival committed to minimising plastic waste, it is also free from fur, wild-animal skins, and now feathers - what an example for other fashion events to follow. When I found out about this festival, I knew I HAD to get them on the feather-free list. Founder Karen Windle enthusiastically agreed - and invited me to be a panel speaker at this year’s edition!
But back to today. As I stand in the taxi queue, I ponder the peculiarity of being on a work trip to Ibiza. I’m surrounded by groups of people, many of them loud and boisterous. Women wearing sequinned skirts. Groups of young guys who clearly have already had a couple of beers on the plane. I look out of place in my black sleeveless jumpsuit, blazer thrown over my hand (over the next two days, I’ll ask myself many times why on Earth I brought a blazer - but then the plane air-con will kick in and my mind will go: ‘aah, this is why’). Ibiza isn’t a place you usually go on business trips to, and it’s not a place where you come alone. The relief is mighty when the festival’s social media manager, the lovely Charlotte, shows up and jumps in the taxi with me. We’re staying in a hotel in San Antonio, and as I fall asleep that night, I am surprised that I’m not wishing I was out partying. My FOMO is one of my most defining features, and if there’s one place where it should be coming out to play, it’s here. But for some reason I drift off content and happy, looking forward to what’s to come.
I start my first (and only) full day in Ibiza with ten laps in the hotel pool. It’s 8am and the only people awake besides me are the hotel staff. The pool is empty of people, the water cool and delightful. After the day’s workout is done, Charlotte and I walk to The Skinny Kitchen for an açai bowl and an ice coffee…which, with a bottle of water, cost 25 euro. Welcome to Ibiza.
We take a long walk along the beachfront to The Palm Star hotel, where we lounge by the pool sipping smoothies. I catch up on work emails while the sun heats up, donning a very chic look that I’ve dubbed “31 degrees and a pale face”. Miraculously, I avoid sunburn.
I walk back by the beach, bathing my feet in the clear sea water. It is warmer than the pool where I start my day. I eat a wrap with grilled veg and baba ganoush at Natural Pau, sitting in the leafy shade, looking forward to the evening. Yet again, I spend three euros on a bottle of water. It scares me to imagine the amount of money I’ve spent on water in total on this island. Precious commodities.
But let’s get to the reason why I’m here. The festival is held at BiBo Park - one of the most amazing event spaces I’ve been to. As the only botanical biotechnology space in Europe, BiBo Park is a centre for plant conservation and environmental care through biotechnology. Visitors can explore the flora of Ibiza through its long, winding walks lined with all sorts of vegetation, learn about the area’s rich plant life, and play the Plant Piano - something we also get to try at the event. This installation provides sound when activated by human touch - it’s like a botanical DJ booth! During the festival, we all play around with some techno beats created by getting our hands on the plants. I’ve never seen anything like it.
At the event’s press conference, I’m delighted to be able to bring the message about vegan living to the conversation - very frequently, animals are missing from the discourse when it comes to ethical fashion. I sit on the panel alongside the festival’s founder Karen Windle and Disruptor London co-founder Sira Naidu - we discuss everything from the leather industry to plastic pollution. I remind the attendees that fashion needs to take its responsibility in the climate crisis - by parting ways with animal agriculture. And voilà: El Diario de Ibiza want to know all about it.
Post-schmoozing the press, I throw myself over yet another three-euro water bottle (racking up my water tally even further) before taking a walk around the park sipping the biggest gin and tonic known to (wo)man - I can barely finish half. The show starts, and before we know it we’re all drooling over some Ibiza-chic outfits. Favourites include:
Floaty fabrics, island-inspired patterns, and an overall luxe-hippie vibe which is exactly what I imagine when I think “Ibiza”. My friends at V.GAN provided most of the shoes - trust me, you want some of those espadrilles in your life.
After it’s all done and dusted, I reunite with Charlotte, who’s been working like a maniac - I honestly am still wrapping my head around how she got all those reels of the show up on the event’s Instagram page basically as it was happening. Superhuman effort. Starving, we end up having dinner at midnight at a random restaurant in the middle of a busy square. Things I love about Ibiza: you can have a vegan burger post-10pm. That’s right, no “sorry, kitchen closed” here. UK, watch and learn. Obviously, I drop another three euros on good ol’ agua.
The next morning, my flight back home is slightly delayed. Sitting at the gate, I text with a friend. I mention that I've visited Ibiza for work, and am met with “oh, just two days? That’s a shame.” As I board the plane, I’m trying to gauge whether I’m sad, whether I wish I could have stayed longer. But I feel nothing of the sort. Instead, I’m elated that my job allows me to have experiences like this at all - and find ways to share the animal rights message in places it otherwise rarely finds its way into. I may not have been a carefree tourist, but I couldn’t be happier with the trip. Well, maybe if there was free water.