READ MORE The Crazy Medieval Island of Sark After months of buzz and suspense cultivated by local authorities, who had been inexplicably slow to issue the necessary licenses, Cipriani finally announced the grand opening of his night club Bomba, built over the ruins of the old Heaven Clubformerly known as The Penelopeone of the leading gay clubs in Ibiza during the early 2000s. But, one doesnt open a club with such visibility within a walking distance to the world famous Pacha Cluba mythical place that has hosted the wild nights of hippies and jet setters since the seventieswithout some teeth gnashing. At 75, the spirited Pacha founder, Ricardo Urgell, keeps an iron hand on his empire. The smiling, white-haired impresario opened the Ibiza club in 1973, before turning it into a global franchise. With his family, he stands among one of the most influential people on the island. Local rumors speculated that Ciprianis administrative troubles building his newest property was linked to Urgells influence at town hall. When asked for comment, a public relations representative for Urgell said he was on a business trip and not available to answer questions at the moment. READ MORE OMG, I Want This House Indeed, Cipriani had been wise enough to poach Danny Whittle, 52,the man behind Pachas success, to help with his newest venture. Upon his arrival in Ibiza in 1993, Whittle quickly became one of the leading architects that helped to create the islands party-hard reputation.An electronic music enthusiast, he first worked for the cult Renaissance evening parties at Privilege and Pacha Club, in association with Ministry of Sound, a pioneer in electro music labels, before hosting his own party events. He also developed the parties, Home in Space, that eventually became the famous We Love parties with impressive line-ups of the la creme de la creme of international electronic artists. He was hired by Pacha Club as the new artistic director, and radically transformed it during his 13 years there. Unlike others, Whittle remains deeply convinced that superstar DJs are the key ingredient to nightclub success, as he told The Daily Beast with an affable smile over una cerveza at the iconic Gran Hotels bar. READ MORE Join The Mile High (Dining) Club You should compare night clubs to the football Premier League. You may have a magnificent stadium, [but] if you dont pay to get top notch artists to perform, clients will not come over, Whittle says. As a visionaryand no doubt feeling the changes happening on the the IslandWhittle set himself a new challenge a year ago: to reach a comparable success to Pacha with Cipriani at his side. READ MORE OMG, I Want This House In spite of his new entrepreneurial vision, Whittle maintainshis good feelings towards the Pacha owners. Beyond what happened, I will always love Pacha, the owners, and what the club stands for, he says. READ MORE Kenya Has Its Own Machu Picchu In July 2013, I questioned Cipriani about the difficulties had while trying to open Bomba. He welcomed me on the stylish terrace of his restaurant facing the Marina, where waiters in white tuxedos were waving in all directions a few minutes before opening time. He played down the issue, saying, People use to be more suspicious on an island were everyone knows one another. Fear of competition is stronger than anywhere else. Coming from Venezia, I perfectly know this feeling. But nothing ever happens as expected. Only a few insiders remember the prophetic words Mark Netto, Danny Whittles longtime partner, said with a knowing smile during the opening session of the 2013 International Music Summit in Ibizas Gran Hotel: You know, on the island, change isnt always welcome. READ MORE The Lost Libraries of the Sahara In fact, Bomba almost turned into a nightmare for the Cipriani-Whittle duo. A few weeks after the opening, they abruptly had to change the clubs name, due to an unexpected intellectual property dispute. In January 2014, the World Intellectual Property Organization (WIPO) stated that Cipriani and his ultra-wealthy occasional partner Eyhab Jumean had no ownership right on the Bomba trademark. So Bomba became Booom!. Disappointed by the decision, Whittle and his team left Ciprianis venture and joined David Vincents teamanother one of Ibizas nightclub influencers who is the director of the underground and trendy venue, Sankeys. And then at the end of January 2014, Periodico de Ibiza, a local newspaper, reported that Booom!s landlord, Nung River SL, a company owned by the Cabau Family (whose daughter Yolanthe is married to superstar international soccer player Wesley Sneijder) were filing a complaint for 450,000 euros (approximately $564,000) in unpaid rent against the nightclub and were requesting the eviction of the tenant. The May 5 eviction date has come and gone, and Booom! is still open and has planned its Closing Parties for this season, an annual tradition for worldwide clubbers that takes place at the end of September. Neither Cipriani nor Whittle responded to requests for comment. READ MORE The Ladies Disrupting the Bar Boys Club These changes and the purported rivalry between Cipriani and Urgell has not seemed to affect the omnipotence of another of the islands big players: local tycoon Abel Matutes, 73, the almighty patriarch of a clan rooted on the island for three centuries. Mayor of Ibiza under Francisco Francos dictatorship as well as member of the Spanish Parliament and of the European Commission, Don Abel has combined politics and business with exceptional talent. He now presides over public works, maritime transportation (the major vessel of the Balearia fleet bears his name), real estate, and 12,000 beds in hotels at all levels of the tourism industry (including the impressive Hard Rock Hotel). Few of the annual 2.5 million tourists who come to La Isla Blanca every year escape paying their due at one of his registers. The Matutes group also owns the mythic Space Club and the giant Privilege Club. Standing at the top of the luxury market is Ushuaia Hotel, where jet setters and oligarchs used to pay 10,000 euros for a suite, and the brand new Hard Rock Hotel with the most expensive restaurant in the world. READ MORE OMG, I Want This House Obviously, one does not become the leading economic power in Ibiza without making a few enemies. Daughter Estrella, 42, is a professional designer who doesnt mention her famous name on her blog. She was also involved in politics as the head of Ibizas urban development from 2004 to 2007. In July 2007, district attorney Adrian Salazar accused her , along with several of her public office colleagues, of having submitted to the vote of the council an urban master plan that allowed the sale of land which directly benefited her and companies in which her family has economic interests. Estrella was eventually cleared of the allegations , but the situation was criticized in dramatic terms by her successor to the urban development council, eco-activist Neus Prats. In Ibiza, compliance to the law is reserved for the poor. The Matutes, on the contrary, adjust it to their needs, while the island is drowning, Neus Prats told El Pais . READ MORE The Isle Where the Rolling Stones Began But Giuseppe Cipriani seems to have unexpected abilities to bounce back: he recently succeeded in buying a strategic piece of land facing Roberto Cavallis new restaurant on the Marina Botafoch5137 square meters auctioned off by the Spanish department of Defense that Cipriani bought for 8,101,196 euros, a price apparently too high for Matutes, in spite of his public connections, as reported by Spanish newspaper El Confidencial . Regardless of how the impresarios competitive jostling to be crowned king of Ibiza nightlife shakes out, the undeniable fact is that the island is forever changed. Apart from the colorful weekly flea market of Las Dahlias in San Carlos, a tiny village in the northern area of the island, there is nothing left of the former hippie paradise of the seventies. After decades of stubborn resistance, local farmers finally agreed to sell huge parts of land to real estate promoters and entertainers. The turning point was probably the building of a big highway which was met by a major, and ultimately unsuccessful, social protest.
Fuente http://news.yahoo.com/battle-king-ibiza-nightlife-094500893--politics.html
Camping Reveals Beauty of Mexico's Baja | Valley News
(MUST CREDIT: Photo for The Washington Post by Rhea Yablon Kennedy.) Ancient scrawlings on a cave lie just a rock scramble away from the highway in Catavina, in Mexicos Baja Peninsula. Illustrates BAJA-BUS (category t), by Rhea Yablon Kennedy, special to The Washington Post. Moved Tuesday, Sept. 30, 2014. (MUST CREDIT: Photo for The Washington Post by Rhea Yablon Kennedy.) Furry sunbathers laze on rocky cliffs on the coast of the Sea of Cortez. Illustrates BAJA-BUS (category t), by Rhea Yablon Kennedy, special to The Washington Post. Moved Tuesday, Sept. 30, 2014. (MUST CREDIT: Photo for The Washington Post by Rhea Yablon Kennedy.) Ancient scrawlings on a cave lie just a rock scramble away from the highway in Catavina, in Mexicos Baja Peninsula. Illustrates BAJA-BUS (category t), by Rhea Yablon Kennedy, special to The Washington Post. Moved Tuesday, Sept. 30, 2014. (MUST CREDIT: Photo for The Washington Post by Rhea Yablon Kennedy.) Furry sunbathers laze on rocky cliffs on the coast of the Sea of Cortez. Illustrates BAJA-BUS (category t), by Rhea Yablon Kennedy, special to The Washington Post. Moved Tuesday, Sept. 30, 2014. (MUST CREDIT: Photo for The Washington Post by Rhea Yablon Kennedy.) By Rhea Yablon Kennedy Special to The Washington Post Sunday, October 5, 2014 Print The boat guy flung his hands toward the water and shouted something urgent. The gist was: Go go go! So I pushed on my snorkel mask and went, toppling into the chilly Sea of Cortez. Righting myself, I peered down into the cool water. And saw it. The whale shark was so calm and lithe, I didnt register what I was seeing at first. Its gray polka-dotted body moved like a school-bus-size shadow. By the time I realized that I was almost close enough to stroke its vast back, I was watching it taper to a tail, and then I was letting out a snorkel-muffled squeal at something else: a baby whale shark swimming alongside its mother. A minute later, the guides helped me scramble out of the water. Back in the boat, I sat grinning and panting among five fellow tourists whod also taken their first swim with these gentle giants. This was one of many moments that would leave me breathless sometimes quite literally during a trip through Baja California. I got to know Mexicos famous peninsula over two weeks from late December to early January on a 36-passenger MCI D-series motor coach with Green Tortoise Adventure Travel that brought a group of us roughly 1,000 miles from San Francisco to the bottom of Baja California Sur and back up again. By the end of the trip, Id seen landscapes both lush and dry, mountainous and flat; communities both affluent and subsistent; sights for the historian and for the adventure-seeker alike. And they all surpassed my expectations. We started along the western coast, which borders the Pacific Ocean, and continued on the east side, learning why Jacques-Yves Cousteau called the Sea of Cortez the worlds aquarium. But there were lots of surprises long before my first experience with the ocean creatures that enchanted the legendary diver and conservationist. One of our first stops as we meandered down the west coast was the city of Ensenada, a busy port town about a 90-minute drive from the U.S. border. This was early in the trip, when my boyfriend and I had just met our fellow passengers. Both Washington, D.C.-based university faculty members, we joined an eclectic group that included college students from China and Korea, young professionals and free spirits from the U.K., the United States and Australia, and a retired truck driver living in Colorado. Some had already tucked five or six Green Tortoise trips under their belts. Others were newbies like me. Somehow, we all fit together at first socially, and soon physically. The two bus drivers formed their own complementary band. William brought Reiki skills, a penchant for hats and decades of experience behind the wheel. Charles was a sandy-haired Oaklander who wore sunglasses with a built-in bottle opener even though the drivers never cracked a cerveza during travel days. He handled orientations to new places. Our drivers m.o. in Ensenada, as it would be in most cities, was to hand out a map, let us know when and where to meet the bus in a few hours and send us on our way. Charles did mention a few attractions, though. One of the highlights was an 11th-floor hotel bar billed as the highest point in the city. As my boyfriend and I walked around, I spotted a banner advertising a fireworks display to take place that night. A bustling city on a Saturday evening, a vantage point to die for and a show that combination sat in the back of my mind as we pushed through the streets lined with restaurants, coffee shops, an outdoor gift market and no-prescription-needed pharmacies. As night fell, we strategized for the fireworks. That high vantage point sounded perfect. The air grew cool. Boat owners were lighting up their vessels with strings of lights in red, orange, blue and white. If living in Washington, D.C., had taught me anything, it was that a top-floor bar would be clogged with revelers and sight-seekers on a weekend like this. Yet when we arrived, we found a lone couple at a table. A bartender made desultory circuits around the floor. Whether the place hadnt made it into guidebooks or visitors just didnt crave a view, I cant say. But we had the place to ourselves as the fireworks canopies bloomed over the water. The next morning brought its own surprises. As the sun warmed the air, I left the bus and waded into chilly water in a beachside town. I was just awake enough to be confused. Not confused about how Charles had safely maneuvered a 20-ton bus through loose sand without sinking. Or about how, the night before, William had led us in performing what Green Tortoise folks call the Miracle: transforming the seating area of our bus into a huge bed and the overhead luggage compartments into bunks so that all 30-plus passengers could sleep lying down as we drove through the night. I didnt even question why this water was so cold, when arid desert stretched all around. No, I was wondering about food. Hadnt the itinerary mentioned waking up to breakfast? And hadnt the Green Tortoise Web site indicated that the coaches had kitchens? As a freelance food writer, I was sure that I remembered those details correctly. But I had yet to see so much as a hot plate on our coach, and the town of low huts and scrawny gardens showed no sign of even a mom-and-pop store, let alone a catered spread. Then all of a sudden, a kitchen materialized. I stood stunned as my fellow travelers pulled folding tables and cases of food from the buss luggage compartment. To the clattering music of plastic dishes and metal flatware, perishables emerged from a cooler under the passenger seats. In no time, we were enjoying a generous breakfast, complete with fresh watermelon and hot coffee. We would dine on gourmet-caliber meals for the rest of the trip, thanks to savvy shopping by our drivers, passenger involvement in meal prep, and ice and water available along the way. A three-bin dishwashing system with seawater, soap and a touch of bleach always followed. We spent the days around Christmas at a rustic campsite tucked between the Sea of Cortez and tree-covered hills, aptly called Playa Escondida, which means hidden beach. This was the private beach and winter home of Green Tortoise owner Lyle Kent. It was also where I started to understand why this place so impressed Cousteau. A few minutes after donning snorkel and mask, I found myself in water that buzzed with more life than all my other snorkel adventures combined.
Fuente http://www.vnews.com/lifetimes/13788005-95/camping-reveals-beauty-of-mexicos-baja
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