Peter Emrys-Roberts
About a quarter of a century ago (good grief…), Ibiza was somewhere really rather special if, like me, you were a bit of a Gen X cheesy quaver (raver, for Millennials/ Gen Z).
Just a short distance from the charming old town, Playa d’en Bossa combined glorious sand and sea with a young and beautiful crowd recumbent on loungers close enough to the bars to hear their chilled Balearic beats. As the sun descended, the music drifted through deep and beach house to full-on dance music. And the crew in front of Bora Bora would shake off the sand, grab a cocktail, and start dancing, including on tables.
You could join the queue for Space at 4 pm, the boys in T-shirts and shorts, girls still in bikinis with trainers, and dance carefree till midnight to the soundtrack of a superstar like Danny Tenaglia. It was sweaty, there were no camera phones, and people danced with their friends. And nobody was watching. This shed full of strangers began to feel like they were all fish in the same shoal – a euphoria I can only imagine being paralleled by football devotees at a home game.
The next morning, back on the beach, the fauna emerging from DC10 would strip naked and swim, startling young families much to our entertainment. But thanks to influencer culture, Love Island, and Instagram, all this seems but a distant dream, with the beach bars charging obscene amounts for a lounger or daybed and everyone dressing and making up like wannabe celebs. They crowd the clubs, videoing an inanimate DJ while behaving like everyone’s watching. Playa d’en Bossa as we remember it is dead. Gone. Over.
So it was such a relief that we returned to the nearby Playa de Ses Salines. The taxi takes you through the salt ponds that gave the White Island its name, arriving at a small sandy beach. Due to erosion, it is far thinner than it used to be, but the two stalwart chiringuitos of Jockey Club and Sa Trinxa endure. And it was the latter, along to the left as far as you can go, that was our destination.
It is little more than a hut with a boardwalk jutting out to sea to welcome boat visitors. And the legendary Jon Sa Trinxa is still on the decks as are the people who buy into his musical curation. Anyone would forgive the restaurant for being complacent, yet the lunch we had there was one of the best you’ll find on the island.
I’ll touch on the food briefly. Topping the menu, as they jolly well should, were Sardinas a la plancha – the essential beach food, these were just perfect, lightly charred, and delicious. Similarly, the Gambas a la plancha were huge and sublime. Later, and on the recommendation of a friend, I had the Hamburguesa Wagyu. Complete with a fried egg, slice of cheddar, and a side of chips, this juicy construction is one of the best burgers I have ever eaten. The customers are stylish and lively with not a camera phone in sight, while the staff are great fun and clearly enjoy themselves in what could not be described as ‘harsh working conditions.’
They serve until 8 pm but beware. Do not wait until sunset to depart – the salt pans double up as a mosquito farm that erupts like a cloud at dusk…
Chiringuito Sa Trinxa, Playa de Ses Salines, S/N, 07830 Sant Josep de sa Talaia, Ibiza
