These are photos of me at our hotel in Ibiza. I like to think it was a super nice place, probably a 5 star, back in its day. But when we got to it... well, let's just say that its day was decades in the past. Still, the hotel was cute. It was exactly what I picture in my mind when I think of Spanish Hotels. It was the kind that you could close your eyes and envision when you thought of any non-fancy Spanish hotel from almost any movie you've ever seen. The balcony, the french doors with draping curtains, the worn and weathered look to everything. It really was perfect. Except....for the shower. I found out the hard way that we were bathing in salt water. Ugh!
It was awesome. Just like a scene in a movie, I was showering, totally enjoying myself and still completely stoked that I was actually in Spain on an amazing vacation with my Husband... and then it happened. I opened my mouth. Salt water from the shower head still tastes like the ocean. =/
Above: On the balcony of our hotel & ready for a night out at Club Paradis for the Fiesta del Agua.
Above: A shot of the bay where our hotel rested. And I say rested...because the old girl had been used and abused for decades. She was just breathing deep by the time we found her.
Above: See... Just like what you pictured...isn't it?