Formentera forever

Photographs Paul Lehr

The shack itself may have been spruced up since it first opened in 1976, but in many ways this place still embodies the ruffled, salt-sprayed bohemian spirit that first attracted visitors to this island, the smallest of the Balearics. Back then, this was a place for the hippies, or peludos, meaning “hairy” in Spanish, who felt at home in a place with no paved roads or electricity, and where swimsuits were very much optional.

Formentera couldn’t have remained Eden-like forever. Today, asphalt and wifi are the island’s reality. Though it doesn’t have an airport of its own, it is a 30-minute ferry ride from nearby Ibiza, which makes it a plausible day trip for tourists wanting pictures on famous Ses Illetes beach. The island’s turquoise waters have also become a magnet for A-listers and yacht owners, who have brought with them a cohort of pricy, glitzy restaurants. But look in the right places, under pine-tree canopies, and you’ll find the kind of establishments that still speak of the island’s past and original essence.

“What I love about Formentera is the sense of freedom, the ability to be in contact with nature: that’s what we have,” says Toni Ribas, who was born on the island and for the past 25 years has been managing one of its most down-to-earth restaurants, Sa Platgeta. Like most spots on the vast, largely untamed crescent of Platja de Migjorn, Sa Platgeta can only be reached via a bumpy ride on an unpaved route that veers off the island’s main road. While a lot of daytrippers tend to stay close to the port on the island’s northern tip, here is where things get much quieter and stripped-back.

“The restaurant is very simple. We’re in the middle of the forest, with the sea just 5 metres away,” says Ribas. “The kind of people who come here are those who appreciate this type of atmosphere – who want to enjoy themselves as if they were among family.”

When Sa Platgeta first opened in 1978, the kitchen turned out mostly grilled fish and icy cañas. These days, the menu focuses on ever-popular paellas, in their large cast-iron pans, yellow with saffron and loaded with seafood. A lobster version is also available, but the approach remains unpretentious: everything is served at tables surrounded by white plastic chairs.

Take a look at menus in restaurants around the island, though, and you’ll quickly realise that pizzas are practically as ubiquitous as paellas. Italian visitors started coming to Formentera in the 90s, and many of them ended up putting down roots. Roberto Tessitore first relocated from outside Como to Formentera in 2003, when he started working as a chef at cheery pizzeria Macondo in the heart of the tiny town of Sant Ferran de ses Roques. Today, he is the space’s co-owner and he has changed very little of it: the colonial-style, whitewashed arches of the restaurant still open on to a street-side terrasse lined with bright red tables and benches. Come dinner time, this pedestrian stretch has the feel of an old-time village fête that continues up the road to historical drinking spot Fonda Pepe. “Macondo is unique in its own way – it’s energetic and lively,” Tessitore tells me. “People go past, you’re constantly bumping into friends. It’s very social.”

It helps that Sant Ferran is home to many establishments that have been part of Formentera’s fabric for decades. On the main road, Forn Sant Ferran might now be fronted by a sign that also reads “bakery” in English, but its origins go back to 1964. Inside, owner Sergio Escandell Cardona has been making bread for 25 years and is determined to continue baking traditional sweets, such as the cheese-based flaó. “It’s true that the island has changed a lot, but it’s important to have places that maintain our history,” Cordona tells me. “We have to try not to lose this tradition and innovate while preserving the soul of each product.” Nearby, restaurant Can Forn is one of the few around the island to still prepare time-honoured recipes – from calamares rellenos, squid generously stuffed with sobrasada, to lomo con col, pork wrapped in cabbage leaves, or ensalada payesa, dried fish, bread rusk and tomato salad. While owner Alejandro Castello runs the business, his mother is still in the kitchen. The squat building complete with a blackened fireplace used to be his grandfather’s house.

The unassuming heart of this island has proven attractive also to those who are after a version of luxury that’s steeped in nostalgia; high-end hotels Dunas de Formentera and Teranka have recently opened in an impeccable, rattan-accented nod to the island’s laid-back origins. The charming 4x4 Citroën Méharis that were once the main means of transport on these dusty roads can still be spotted zooming around, but are now rented by those who long for a vintage aesthetic. Still, no matter what car you’re driving, the path that leads to Caló des Mort can only be tackled on foot. This cove on the far east of the island, carved out of honey-coloured stone, is both geographically and fundamentally opposite to the renowned Ses Illetes in the north. At the latter, cars queue interminably under the sun to get access to a vast parking lot; here, people wait a few seconds for their turn to grab on to a rope and lower themselves down to a diminutive patch of sand, where the flat surrounding rocks frame blazingly azure waters.

When the sun starts to dip, it’s worth venturing further east, past the fishermen’s village of Es Caló and the serene coves around it. The road snakes up a thickly forested promontory, eventually leading to the Far de la Mola, the lighthouse presiding over the island’s tip. However, the best way up, according to Maria Jose Mayans, whose family has been running Real Playa restaurant on Platja de Migjorn since 1981, is on foot.

On the Camino Romano, the ancient Roman pathway climbing the hill, the panorama soon opens up. “You can see the whole island, and how the sun falls,” Mayans says. “There’s nobody around you – only a sense of peace, of silence.” Seen from here, Formentera snoozes quietly, in a mesmerising stillness: there’s no telling what day, month or year it is.