Tonight is all about the sunset and saying our goodbyes, taking the nightflight home to return to mundanity. But we have hours yet until the airport calls and a beautiful day ahead of us to enjoy to the max.

As Faithless once sang, 'God is a DJ', and nowhere is that more true than here on Ibiza. While Coman and I come back to the island for the tranquility of its hidden places, the beauty of its beaches, the dazzling array of wonderful restaurants, and the pleasure of holidaying with friends, there's no denying the banging club culture that prevades the more populous areas of Ibiza.

How we've ended up watching a Spanish drag queen berating her audience at 4.30am in a dingy club hidden in the walls of the Old Town is a mystery... I think alcohol must have been involved!

Once upon a time there was a girl called Emma. And Emma worked with William before travelling off on a crazy adventure around the world with her boyfriend, Mark. After a while they landed in Australia and made a life for themselves on the other side of the world.

I don't think I've ever been to church in Ibiza before, but there in front of us stands Mary, smiling beatifically and nearby her son, crucified for the sins of the world. The Lord knows there are plenty of people on this island who could do with a dose of salvation, but they're probably still dancing away wide-eyed at Space, beyond the existence of time and reality.

It seems we've woken up in a fridge. How did that happen?!?! Ah, now I remember... It's 9.30 already, meaning I've had the first decent sleep in forever, my throat seemingly miraculously healed by Dr Watson's steroids. So fully refreshed I get up and adjust the a/c to less polar conditions, before coaxing Coman to rise and come down for breakfast.

God has cursed me!! Having missed our annual jaunt to Ibiza in 2012 we booked our flights to the White Isle in February this year, eager for a visit to one of the most magical places on earth. The excitement has been rising as the date of departure approaches but with rotten timing, calamity strikes! The cold I battled with last month has never properly shifted, turning first into a chest infection and now ravaging my throat so much so that I can't swallow, let alone speak.