Ibiza: Aurora's Moment
- julia brosko
- Apr 7
- 3 min read
My flight for tomorrow was at 7:30 AM. Not exactly convenient for a traveler who had spent 120 hours on the road with short breaks for art and interviews. It was the fifth plane in a week, and you could say I was already flown out.
Ahead was the last stop of my European week-long trip – Madrid. More precisely – the Prado Museum. Even more precisely – Velázquez's "Las Meninas," as it would turn out later. But for now, I had 12 hours on the island of Ibiza. Right in the middle of the blue Balearic Sea.
I quickly settled into a room thoroughly whitewashed with white paint and straw decor. Despite the general fatigue, I still wanted to walk along the promenade, so I hurried to leave my luggage and, frankly, the room itself. The design approach made an ambiguous impression. Like a giant ball of paint had exploded right in the middle of the room and flooded everything white: the walls, the sink, the shelves, and the wall-mounted sconces. It seemed that drops of paint had frozen on the modest furniture that the accommodation could boast. Only the grassy-green wooden balcony shutters and the straw roof of the chandelier dome reminded me that this was not a sterile anesthesiology room, but rather a residence for summer relaxation.
Although this cold March, I would have preferred anesthesia. And I went to look for it. Looking around, I saw that dinner was a no-choice situation: only McDonald's was open among the restaurants on the promenade. Having already been amazed by the practice of patching up electrical outlets inside the hall with plywood and the constant compromises in cleanliness standards at McDonald's in Barcelona, from where I flew to Ibiza, I wasn't expecting anything promising. I once heard the opinion that McDonald's for a traveler is a kind of beacon of satiety. A guarantee that everything will be understandable, like at home. I, on the other hand, unbearably miss home every time I'm in McDonald's. After all, such a level of cleanliness, care, and service as in Ukraine doesn't exist anywhere else in the world! For Ukraine, McDonald's is a symbol of wartime resilience. It's a brand that returned and brought back hope first, then sauce, then breakfasts. I know this might sound strange, but never and for no one has french fries meant as much as they do for people in Ukraine during the full-scale war and resistance to Russian aggression. It was the french fries of resilience. It was the french fries of demonstration that the world is with us and truth is on our side. So, every time I visit McDonald's abroad, I miss how they are all so unbearably different from my native standard.
Having satisfied my hunger with what was available, I realized I wanted to plan my route to the airport directly from the seaport, from the promenade. After all, what other entertainment could await me during a 12-hour overnight layover, besides the sunrise? Let's take that!
Waking up without an alarm, I rushed to the pier. Ibiza – an island where at five in the morning you see many passersby. Some woke up for business, others haven't gone to bed after a night at the club. And the latter are significantly more, even in the season considered winter on the island.
Having walked the entire port, I managed to find a cup of freshly ground coffee with thick milk foam and chocolate chips. It was almost unbelievable – to get coffee exactly how I like it, at dawn, in a port that's still asleep.
Time was calculated in minutes while waiting for the bus.
Preparing my favorite song and smartphone camera, I approached the edge of the promenade, inhaled the salty air, and began waiting for the first star. Like an ornithologist, I lay in wait for a rare hummingbird.
And then, beyond the horizon, the ink of the sea began to be diluted by the thick paint of the sun, leaving no chance for darkness to take revenge. Confidently, even assertively, a soft pink gradient filled the sky, returning the sea to its azure blue color. In my AirPods, Elton John emphasized that it was all my song. And that's how I felt.
Frozen in a moment of admiration, I was shaken by a wave of air behind me – my airport bus sped past at full speed.
The driver didn't recognize in me the passenger who was admiring Aurora.
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