Ibiza (image from Ibiza Spotlight)

My Happy Place.

There are many places in this world that make me happy.

London, of course, in all it’s forms. Liberty in all it’s grandeur; Covent Garden, where I spent so much of my childhood; Shoreditch where some of my happiest memories were made; my old neighbourhood in Islington; the gorgeous St John’s Wood; Soho Square in the sunshine… the list goes on.

Windsor, where I spent my day yesterday. A place I lived for years and still somehow feels like home. If you live in this country and have not spent a day in the Queen’s back garden you’re missing out. The Long Walk in the Great Park is magnificent. Even a walk through the town centre in the shadows of the castle is a thing of beauty

St Albans, where my life began. Edinburgh. Ascot. Bath. Christchurch. St Ives. Point Clear. Dublin. Just about anywhere I’ve ever been on holiday. They all make me smile. But there’s one place my soul is attached to, that calls me, that I not just want to return to, but need to return to.

Ibiza.

I know a lot of people are in love with the tiny White Isle. Most for it’s debauchery. It’s the scene of so many crimes and lost weekends. It’s the place where people make memories they’ll usually never remember. It’s the world’s greatest place for clubbing, and fun, and bad behaviour. That side of the island is beyond brilliant. But it’s no longer the reason I go.

My love for Ibiza runs deeper than that. It’s something spiritual, and balanced, and necessary. While most go to have a wild time, I go because it sends a sense of peace through my body. It calms me, and balances me, and fills me with strength and joy. From the moment I touch down I feel more alive than I do anywhere else on earth. For that reason,  I love to go off-season, when the hoards of ravers have gone home and it’s just me, good friends and quiet. There’s a magic about that island. For me, it really is one of the most wonderful places on earth.

I last visited in 2013 – just before I discovered I was pregnant. I missed it last year. But next week, I’m going back. I’m going home. I’m staying away from the popular areas and hiding out away from the crowds. It’s going to be me, great friends, beautiful people, beaches, yoga and relaxation. I’m looking forward to it more than you could know. While most come back from Ibiza needing another holiday, I’m going to return recharged, blissed out, complete and happy.

I can’t wait to be in you Ibiza. I’ve missed you, my love.

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