Staying calm and rational feels even more important now we really are in the middle of nowhere, away from Ibiza’s main towns. As we drove into the mountains, the main roads turned into narrower lanes lined with dusty banks and bracken, making me nervous about whether the SEAT is capable of getting us to our destination. The drive takes us past white, craggy rock faces and winding roads with barriers separating us from sharp drops to the sea. Dark-green palms line the roads against a backdrop of blue, blue skies. He’s a very capable driver. I’d be going heavier on the brakes.
‘Someone obviously didn’t learn to drive in London,’ Zara says from the back of the car. I turn to see her holding on tightly to the door whereas Jess grabs on to Zara and her phone. I told Jess to do that.Get your location on, if he’s driving us to a cabin in the woods then we’ll be able to message our location to someone before using the phone as a weapon.
‘I’ve driven in London for a while. I’ve lived all over – I’m a dab hand at winding country lanes,’ Ben says.
The car climbs a steep, winding incline where we have to pass another car. I look at it and panic; to my left is a sheer cliff, but Ben pulls over, winding down the window as the other car passes, and exchanges pleasantries with the person in the othervehicle in Spanish. I’m in awe. If it were me driving, we’d have rolled down the cliff by now.
‘Nearly there, ladies,’ he says as he makes a sharp left turn into a gate next to a wooden sign markedCASA.
I don’t quite know what to think. It’s not a hugely fancy entrance; some olive trees and a low stone wall mark the way. The car kicks up the dusty sand, blocking the view.
‘GOATS!’ Jess says super loudly.
I jump in my seat, wondering if this is how she swears. But I turn around and see her looking into a neighbouring field where black goats roam freely.
‘They were mentioned on the flyer. Are they yours?’ I ask Ben.
‘No, they’re…wild,’ Ben explains.
‘Are they the sort you can do yoga with?’ Zara asks.
‘God, no. These ones are a bit feral. And loud. I find they just stand there and bleat at each other for no reason and then eat all the neighbour’s flowers. But maybe they add to the ambience?’ he suggests uncertainly.
I look over at them curiously. They also have really massive bollocks. Like grapefruit.
Jess is taking videos on her phone while I notice that the stone wall ends and is replaced by a crude wire fence.
‘Any other wildlife?’ I ask, looking up to the sky. ‘Are those eagles? Red kites?’
‘They’re vultures, but don’t worry, they only eat the goats,’ Ben says apprehensively. ‘There’s also a cat who lives on-site. She’s a bit feral too. Don’t try and pet her,’ he warns. ‘And there are snakes but I’ve never actually seen one.’
We all go quiet. There better be something at the end of this road. At this point I’m expecting a shed. I’m glad I brought mosquito repellent.
‘Sorry to be a complete techno wimp but is there also Wi-Fi?’ Zara asks. ‘Just so I can keep in touch with my kids? This is pretty secluded and I’m just wondering if I missed some small print about digital detoxing?’
‘We are fully wired up. We also have Netflix,’ Ben says. ‘There she is.’
It’s funny how the villa suddenly appears through the clouds of dust. I look round at Zara and Jess’s faces and see relief, but as I take in the view of the house my mouth opens a little; the white stone building is majestic against the blue sky. It looks just like it did on those flyers: an authentic Ibizan finca with rustic features. I like the shape of it. It looks like it has a courtyard and the roofs are all slightly mismatched in height. The villa has the feel of a place that hides an excellent story. I break into a smile as we drive closer to it, the car struggling against the rockiness of the path until we roll to a complete stop.
‘Are you convinced yet?’ Ben says, turning to me.
I don’t reply. I get out of the car, perching my arms on the door and looking up at the villa in front of me. It’s completely still and quiet on the mountaintop; there is nothing for miles around bar birds and breeze.
Zara gets out of the car, whipping her head back to catch some sun before putting an arm around me. ‘Girl…I for one am less worried now. This is not too shabby.’
I sigh, releasing a big pent-up breath, and I smile at Jess on the other side of the car. She lifts up her sunglasses and winks at me.We’ve not been inside yet, Jess, I think, struggling to fully shake off my doubts. But there is something about this place that breathes calm, warmth and light.
‘Ladies, please leave your bags. They are safe, even from the goats. Let me give you a tour,’ Ben says, watching as we all stand there in awe. He opens a low-lying metal gate and takes us through to a stone patio; archways lead through to two massivewooden doors and that courtyard space I envisaged – there are statues hidden in alcoves and vines creeping up the walls. Above the courtyard are Juliet balconies where the bedrooms are located, and further up, I can see a swimming pool, flanked by olive trees with fantastically twisted silver trunks. Around the pool are sun loungers and parasols, a large stone table; a beautiful gazebo structure hidden away in the gardens.
‘Please use the grounds,’ he says. ‘There are some wonderful walking trails with brilliant views but do stick to the tracks. I’ve drawn maps of some of the best ones. And use the pool as you wish. There are lights so you can swim at night if you want but remember there’s no lifeguard. Ummm…’ Ben pauses and opens a door to a large stone kitchen with gorgeous tilework. It has tall French windows; herbs hang in arrangements by the cooker and big plump tomatoes are left to ripen on the wooden countertop. ‘This is my space. Let me know what you want to eat in the day, I can likely accommodate any requests, and I’ll do set spreads for lunch and dinner. Between meals, just help yourself to what’s in the fridge. I’ll make sure we always have wine and drinks available. I went to the market yesterday and went crazy with the olives…’
The three of us watch as he opens the fridge to reveal twenty bottles of Cereza on chill and platters of sliced fruits.
‘We’ll probably eat outside most days but there’s a dining room here and then the living room,’ he explains.
We follow Ben to a space with a massive white sofa and lots of paintings on the walls. Pictures and ornaments fill the natural stone shelves and a millstone in the middle is used as a coffee table.
‘You’re welcome to chill in here, the light is great. Can I ask for no red wine on the sofa? But then you are all adults…’
