Fincadelica, Ibiza’s high-hippie villa to become your own rustic retreat

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My suite is independent from the main house, a high and bright loft-like space with sliding doors opening onto a private garden. I fall asleep with the doors open, and the only sounds I hear are the beeping call of the native Ibizan screech-owl and the desperate bleating of a goat in the surrounding farm. As at the Fincadelica, breakfast is a communal, chatty affair on the terrace, with pots of local yogurt drizzled with honey, piles of warm croissants, and bowls of nuts and seeds.

The salt water swimming poolAna Him

After a lazy morning of reading by the pool and bowling, we descend to the whitewashed village of San Lorenzo for lunch. Our table is on the pretty flower-lined terrace of La Paloma, still the epicenter of the northern food scene, although just across the road Casa Lhasa – a new organic wine and tapas bar – is buzzing of an equally international crowd. Apart from a fabulous church, San Lorenzo itself doesn’t have much to offer, but its location (10 mins drive from bustling Santa Gertrudis, 15 from Ibiza town and beaches) makes it a meeting point for island regulars.

Upon my return to Fincadelica, I visit the traditional Lakota tipi for a shamanic smudging ceremony with healers Isa – a Swiss firefighter who tells me he is 29 “in this life” – and his partner Miriam, who invokes ancient healing prayers while staining sage and holy palo. Amit later tells me that this is where the trio retreats when having to make big decisions. “Around the fire, we can talk openly. It’s like an office,” he smiles. Amit is a kingpin of Ibiza’s freewheeling bohemian scene, both here and at entrepreneur Anton Bilton’s Sabina development, where he runs the clubhouse. It’s precisely this contrast of hippie sentiment and lavish execution that makes this side of Ibiza – and Fincadelica in particular – an alluring paradox. Back in my sun-drenched Garden Suite, with its Loro Piana headboard and free-standing tub deep enough to swim in, someone placed a rose quartz heart on my pillow. I decide it’s a paradox I can live with.


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