No music, no dancing: a postcard from Covid-era Ibiza

Pictured pre-pandemic, clubbers in Ibiza - Getty
Pictured pre-pandemic, clubbers in Ibiza - Getty

In a silver lining to these extraordinary times, local artists are slipping into the spotlight of the world’s biggest party capital

When music represents the soul of a place like Ibiza, keeping the vibe alive without breaking constantly-changing Covid rules is no small feat. But now, the legendary White Isle – currently devoid of its superstar DJs and massive crowds – is left to do just that.

There have been an estimated 489 Covid cases in Ibiza, while Spain as a whole now stands at the 1.1 million mark. And in a bid to minimise infections, local government has banned loud music and dancing anywhere – Ibiza included.

On Friday, Ibiza's closing times changed from 10pm to 1am, permitting six people per table. But this changed again on Sunday when authorities announced a ‘state of alarm’ curfew, banning anyone from venturing out between 11pm and 6am.

Punters breaking rules can be charged with fines of €100 (£90) to €60,000 (£54,200), while venues and private organisers could also find themselves slapped with up to €600,000 (£542,800) if seen hosting anything resembling a party.

But according to Julian Heathcote, editor-in-chief of Ibiza Spotlight, the new rules simply mean that venues will open for longer during the day. “Daytime suits us fine because it gets humid and darker in the winter months,” he told me.

According to the Balearic Islands Tourism Board, hospitality in the region represents 44 percent of the economy – with the vast majority of visitors coming for the island's nightlife. But when you strip Ibiza of its clubs and superstar DJs, you’re left with shapeshifting local artists who have held their lives together in the aftermath of every party season since time immemorial.

The lack of mass hedonism means local artists now hold the fort with a resilience greater than ever. But let there be no illusions: the party people are missed here in Ibiza.

Local artist Elia Alquimia, who hosts a regular spot on Ibiza Live Radio, says Ibiza's spirit won't be repressed: “Without the big crowds, you’re still left with world class talent because those who continue to stay on and survive are able to because they’re great artists. That’s how they got here, and why they’re still here.”

Elia Alquimia, pictured in the ruins of Ibiza Festival Club - Anu Shukla
Elia Alquimia, pictured in the ruins of Ibiza Festival Club - Anu Shukla

Heathcote agrees. “Certainly with the absence of big name DJs, our considerable local talents now have a platform to showcase their abilities, whereas before they were not even second fiddle,” he tells me. “Covid is not anything we want, but there has also been an advantage in this regard.”

It makes it all the more emotional for local DJ Andy Wilson, who was on the decks at Hostal Del Torre on Saturday night, playing a special tribute set to honour the life of the island’s recently deceased ‘Godfather of Chill’ Jose Padilla – who passed away earlier this month after losing his battle to colon cancer.

“It’s not the way we would want to celebrate Jose’s life, but this is the best we can do considering the current climate,” Wilson said of the socially-distant gathering. However, he said, “changing restrictions on the island have made life challenging for everyone.”

Days earlier, I stood in the ruins of the island’s biggest abandoned club. Ibiza Festival Club opened for two seasons in 1972 and shut down in the wake of the fuel crisis, leaving behind a big financial mess. It never re-opened.

The graffiti strewn amphitheatre in San José is akin to a graveyard symbolic of the illegal raves that swamped the space back in the eighties and nineties. Graffitied at its entrance are the words “just dance mother f*****.”  They couldn’t be more poignant for a global community of ravers who have nothing but the memories that defined the best days of their lives.

In the meantime, with or without flocks of revellers, the beat goes on in Ibiza – albeit at a much lower volume.