A 500-Year-Old Home on Spain’s Party Capital Ibiza Lists for €10.8 million
The restored property is in the oldest part of the island’s capital, a designated Unesco World Heritage Site
The restored property is in the oldest part of the island’s capital, a designated Unesco World Heritage Site
A historic home in an Unesco World Heritage Site on the Spanish island of Ibiza has come to the market €10.8 million (US$11.7 million).
Dating to the 16th century, Palacio XI is in Dalt Vila—the oldest quarter in Ibiza Town, the island’s capital—which was designated a heritage site in 1999. The fortified enclave is a labyrinth of narrow, cobbled streets, ancient buildings and stunning views.
The four-storey home was acquired by the seller when it was in ruins and they embarked on a thorough restoration between 2014 and 2018, according to a spokesperson for the listing agency Charles Marlow Ibiza.
Mansion Global couldn’t identify the seller, or when or for how much they acquired the property.
Today, the house is a “blend of historic Ibiza charm and contemporary luxury,” said Tim Stacey, head of sales and rentals at Charles Marlow Ibiza. There are details like stone walls, tall beamed ceilings and grand stone arches, alongside features including an integrated sound system, comfort cooling and underfloor heating.
There’s a modern kitchen with a wine cooler, a dining room that opens out to the large main terrace, the pool area and a covered outdoor dining area, ideal for al-fresco entertaining.
There are also multiple living spaces, a roof terrace, a for-vehicle carport with EV charging, six bedrooms and “superb 360-degree views of Ibiza Town, the island, and Formentera [that] are truly breathtaking,” Stacey said.
Ibiza is considered one of the top luxury residential destinations globally, according to Knight Frank’s Prime International Residential Index, released earlier this year, which found prime property prices on the island rose 12% in 2023.
“Ibiza’s strength lies in its ability to provide an escape from metropolitan life,” said Jack Harris, a partner in Knight Frank’s International Residential team . “It’s a place where one can recharge the batteries (yoga is a staple on the island), enjoy world-class cuisine and reconnect with nature—whether on the beach or in the heart of the island’s countryside.”
What a quarter-million dollars gets you in the western capital.
Alexandre de Betak and his wife are focusing on their most personal project yet.
Many luxury hotels only build on their gilded reputations with each passing decade. But others are less fortunate. Here are five long-gone grandes dames that fell from grace—and one that persists, but in a significantly diminished form.
A magnet for celebrities, the Garden of Allah was once the scene-making equivalent of today’s Chateau Marmont. Frank Sinatra and Ava Gardner’s affair allegedly started there and Humphrey Bogart lived in one of its bungalows for a time.
Crimean expat Alla Nazimova leased a grand home in Hollywood after World War I, but soon turned it into a hotel, where she prioritised glamorous clientele. Others risked being ejected by guards and a fearsome dog dubbed the Hound of the Baskervilles. Demolished in the 1950s, the site’s now a parking lot.
The Astor family hoped to repeat their success when they opened this sequel to their megahit Waldorf Astoria hotel in 1904. It became an anchor of the nascent Theater District, buzzy (and naughty) enough to inspire Cole Porter to write in “High Society”: “Have you heard that Mimsie Starr…got pinched in the Astor Bar?”
That bar soon gained another reputation. “Gentlemen who preferred the company of other gentlemen would meet in a certain section of the bar,” said travel expert Henry Harteveldt of consulting firm Atmosphere Research. By the 1960s, the hotel had lost its lustre and was demolished; the 54-storey One Astor Plaza skyscraper was built in its place.
In the 1950s, colonial officers around Africa treated Mozambique as an off-duty playground. They flocked, in particular, to the Santa Carolina, a five-star hotel on a gorgeous archipelago off the country’s southern coast.
Run by a Portuguese businessman and his wife, the resort included an airstrip that ferried visitors in and out. Ask locals why the place was eventually reduced to rubble, and some whisper that the couple were cursed—and that’s why no one wanted to take over when the business collapsed in the ’70s. Today, seeing the abandoned, crumbled ruins and murals bleached by the sun, it’s hard to dismiss their superstitions entirely.
The overwater bungalow, a shorthand for barefoot luxury around the world, began in French Polynesia—but not with the locals. Instead, it was a marketing gimmick cooked up by a trio of rascally Americans. They moved to French Polynesia in the late 1950s, and soon tried to capitalise on the newly built international airport and a looming tourism boom.
That proved difficult because their five-room hotel on the island of Raiatea lacked a beach. They devised a fix: building rooms on pontoons above the water. They were an instant phenomenon, spreading around the islands and the world—per fan site OverwaterBungalows.net , there are now more than 9,000 worldwide, from the Maldives to Mexico. That first property, though, is no more.
The Ricker family started out as innkeepers, running a stagecoach stop in Maine in the 1790s. When Hiram Ricker took over the operation, the family expanded into the business by which it would make its fortune: water. Thanks to savvy marketing, by the 1870s, doctors were prescribing Poland Spring mineral water and die-hards were making pilgrimages to the source.
The Rickers opened the Poland Spring House in 1876, and eventually expanded it to include one of the earliest resort-based golf courses in the country, a barber shop, dance studio and music hall. By the turn of the century, it was among the most glamorous resort complexes in New England.
Mismanagement eventually forced its sale in 1962, and both the water operation and hospitality holdings went through several owners and operators. While the water venture retains its prominence, the hotel has weathered less well, becoming a pleasant—but far from luxurious—mid-market resort. Former NYU hospitality professor Bjorn Hanson says attempts at upgrading over the decades have been futile. “I was a consultant to a developer in the 1970s to return the resort to its ‘former glory,’ but it never happened.”