It was 7am and I was lying on a rock, half asleep, determined to keep my eyes open so I could see the sun rise over the Mediterranean. It was the morning after a big Ibizan night out with my school friend Nuria. I’m not usually an early riser or such a late raver but we were on the party isle for only a short time so fully intended to make the most of it.
It wasn’t that we were on a weekend break; a long and varied journey had brought us here, a Gen-Z odyssey travelling over land and sea, with clubbing as our aim.
Going to France without flying is habitual for lots of Brits, yet slow…
