Ibiza for The Curious Wanderers: a Friday-to-Monday weekend

Three thousand Punic tombs under a hill of windmills, and the terracotta Tanit from Es Culleram upstairs; walk down into the hypogea.

In through the drawbridge gate and up to the five bastions, with the ferries leaving below and the cathedral at the top; an hour at an amble.

A long-established restaurant on Eivissa's main promenade, Ibicenco dishes at an outdoor table; arrive when the kitchen opens to avoid the wait.

The original 1954 market, now with the island's weavers, leatherworkers and silversmiths under the trees; Saturday is the real one.

The potters' village: watch Ibizan red clay thrown into the traditional olla and greixonera, and carry one home wrapped in newspaper.

Eat facing Es Vedrà as it goes black against the sunset; hold a compass up on the terrace and see whether the island of sirens moves it.

Smaller and more local than Las Dalias, with palm-leaf basket weavers, fresh goat cheese, and a band on the church steps by eleven.

A smugglers' cave with the markings they used to find their way, and a staged waterfall; the ticket includes the island's silliest light show.

A garden restaurant in a village of defensive towers, with hierbas ibicencas from the family still poured after the lemon cake.

The salt harvest has run since Carthage; the piles by the loading jetty and the salt-workers' church are best in the morning light.

The town's working market, with the fishmongers and the stall that sells the salt by the kilo; the herbalist by the door sells the hierbas botanicals.

A village bar with tapas on the terrace and the strongest house hierbas on the island; the church across the plaza is a white fortress.