More photos from the photographic island of Ibiza.

A picture of Dalt Vila from across the harbor.

We had sangria a couple of times. We went into a restaurant, le Tomate acutally, and it was owned by French people, with French music on the radio and waiters who spoke French. Two girls were sitting there with a pitcher of White Sangria and a plate of mixed tapas so we ordered a pitcher ourselves. It was very good. Unfortunately, we ordered steak instead of the tapas. The meat was cut very strangely butchered and difficult to eat and I had to cut off pieces here and there around fat and, I guess, sinew (whatever holds meat together), and then Maurice tells me that Spain is known for that. I wish he had remembered before we ordered. The sangria made up for it.

Maurice’s daughter took us to a fun place on the beach where we had sangria made with champagne, new to me. Also very good.

We had paella too because Spain….

A look at the restaurant itself. I felt like I was in Mexico, which I used to dearly love and, to add to the magic, there was a jazzy rendition of Bessa Me Mucho playing as we walked in, my favorite Mexican song.

Another day we went inland and ate at a funky little place which the owner had made into an art gallery full of work by his favorite artists from Chile.

We went into a little church there and, instead of wax candles to light in front of saints or Mary or Jesus, there was this covered collection of battery operated candles and, if you put in enough money, a little light would come on for the amount of time you wanted. No cheating here and they didn’t have to keep up a supply of candles either.

A view of the coast with little fishing shacks down below.

Orange juice on a terrace in the sun the day we left.

Good bye sunshine and blue water. We arrived back to Paris with gray skies and heavy traffic and metros. It was a nice break.

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Well, we are back home from Ibiza and now it all seems like a dream. Maurice’s daughter has an apartment in Dalt Vila, the old part of Eivissa, the main city in Ibiza (an island off the coast of Spain) where we were lucky enough to stay. She arrived a couple of days before we left and showed us a few of her favorite places. I have all sorts of photos and will be making two posts with them.

As you might expect, the Greeks and Romans were here and evidence of their time here was evident.

We arrived on a Sunday afternoon and everything was closed. Many places started opening a few days later as Easter crowds were expected. We found this little pastry shop. I thought the poster showed Salvidor Dali but it turned out to be the owner of the shop who indeed did sport a fun mustache.

Just one example of the many photos I took of doors and windows-my addiction.

Maurice and I drove up the western coast a bit and found a tiny village with this pristine church. Most every building seemed to be painted white.

The old village where we stayed, is on the top of a hill and, therefore, we did a lot of climbing. From where we parked the car to the apartment where we stayed were 86 steps-a good work out. Most of the apartments or houses there had wonderful little patios with a view of the harbor down below.

I especially loved the way these curtains were tied.

This house was for sale and looked old and in need of work, but I sure did like the front garden.

The main square in Dalt Vila had this Greek Temple like covered market every morning.

I was sitting outside at a cafe and saw this shadow. The sun was shining on some clothes lines with clothes pins and I thought it looked like a sheet of music.


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We head back to Paris this afternoon so I won’t be posting my usual blog post. We had a good time but, as often happens in April, it was a bit chilly. I wore my coat every day. Here is a photo of some excellent, really thick hot chocolate we had while here. My, it was good.



I am in Ibiza, an island off of the coast of Spain, for a few days and will post more photos when I return.



When I read about an exhibit at the George V Hotel about the photos taken of the Beatles fifty years ago when they first arrived in Paris and stayed at this hotel, I wanted to see it so my friend, Barbara, and I set out to see it. We walked in the door expecting to see the photos set up and the lobby was bare. Several employees looked at us with puzzled expressions not knowing what we were talking about. Here was the quote from Forbes Magazine:
In honor of the 50th anniversary, the Four Seasons George V in Paris is running a photo exhibition of Benson’s iconic shots of the Beatles in the hotel, blown up and displayed in the lobby and in front of the bar (the photos accompanying this story are used with the permission of the photographer and appear in his latest (2013) book, Harry Benson: The Beatles on the Road: 1964-1966).
Doesn’t that sound like the exhibit is going on now? Finally a lady found out that it is supposed to be in June. So, in a way, it was a wasted trip but I always enjoy seeing the flower arrangements there.

They are celebrating Spring with yellow flowers.

The courtyard, still too cold for breakfasts.

Even quiet, unseen little corners aren’t forgotten.

The flower arranger, Jeff Leatham, is famous for his leaning flowers.

I looked in the gift shop and saw a children’s book of triplets at the George V and saw that they also have plates with scenes from the book, sort of like Heloise at the Plaza.


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