I walked into the lobby and there it was 103 Early Hints, quietly hanging behind the reception desk at Na Xamena, one of Ibiza’s oldest and most iconic hotels. The last time I’d seen that painting in person was in 2019, just before it was shipped off to the hotel as part of a barter: two paintings in exchange for a few nights in one of their suites. A gesture that felt romantic and old-fashioned in the best possible way. They offered us not only the stay, but also dinners at their restaurant, and the whole experience felt… enchanted.I went with someone who was really special to me at the time, and we spent those days floating… in the pool, in the view, in the light. Everything glowed.
I never got to see the painting in place, only imagined it. And now, years later, I found it again…still there, still holding the air of that summer.
I’ve been rereading “Viaje a la Ibiza insólita” by Carlos Vico, and there’s a passage that made me pause. It begins simply:
“Hablamos durante unos minutos y después de fumarme un par de ‘ducados’, volví al caballo. ‘Confi’ estaba tranquilo y ese descanso le había venido bien. Monté y nos dirigimos hacia Na Xamena. Entrando en la urbanización donde está el ‘Hacienda’ comprobé una vez más que el hotel es sencillamente precioso; y, aún siendo un establecimiento de lujo, su sencillez lo hace más atractivo.
Unos cuantos chalets muy separados forman el conjunto de la urbanización y no destruyen en absoluto el paisaje. El acantilado de Na Xamena es impresionante. Hay una altura de unos trescientos metros cortados a pico; el mero hecho de mirar hacia abajo pone los pelos de punta, pero la belleza de esta fuerza es tremenda. Hay rocas cortadas formando caprichosos dibujos y un inmenso mar azotándolas constantemente. Uno puede pasarse horas allí, disfrutando del paisaje, del silencio y de la paz.”
Ibiza has been part of my life since 2003. There’s something about the island that I always return to, not just physically, but emotionally. It’s part of my inner landscape. And maybe that’s what made seeing that painting again so meaningful. I had never seen it in place before, only imagined it. Now I know: it’s been there all along, quietly becoming part of the room, the island, the story.
Places can carry a version of you, suspended in time. Returning to Na Xamena felt like gently brushing against one of mine.