After returning from Virginia last weekend, I caught up on laundry and we packed again. This time for a joint respite in Mallorca.You may remember that we were planning to visit Croatia and Slovenia over break. However, while in Madrid last month G and I realized that we were in need of a low-key, low-maintenance vacation rather than the scattered, fast-paced adventure we had planned. After reviewing the options, Mallorca won the race.
Some may be thinking “why?” as Mallorca has gotten a bit of a reputation over the years as Europe’s equivalent to Myrtle Beach. And while it’s true that package resorts, leathery seniors and neon reside in Palma, our homebase was quite the opposite.
Welcome to Port de Soller on Mallorca’s Northwest coast. Since I was slowly recovering from jet lag (from the US), we took full advantage of the slower pace that the Spanish are famous for. We slept in, had a leisurely brunch, hiked, treked, or ventured to nearby towns, came back to our hotel in time for a game of cards or a siesta (and to glue ourselves to the TV for VT updates), drank our weight in fresh squeezed orange juice and enjoyed all that life in a port town should be. Beautiful views, good food and a restful attitude.
In addition to Port de Soller, we also took a trolley/train to nearby Soller and hiked to hill towns Fornalutx and Biniaraix. We had the *BEST* orange juice during this trek at a roadside OJ stand. Unlike the ones of childhood years, this one was set-up by a retired German mother whose son owns an orange grove. This “Jugo de Naranja” stand was in a beautiful arbor decorated with flowers, overlooking the valley and resident grove. She even sent us on our way with a freshly picked (as we watched) orange and blossoms for our journey. I loved the juice so much that I almost decided to buy my own juice press. Then I remembered that I would have to carry all those oranges home from the grocery…hmmm…
On Thursday, we took the bus to Deia 12km (~8 miles) away and hiked back along the coast to Port de Soller. The area is home to olive, orange and lemon groves and sheep are kept in order to eat the undergrowth and keep the land tidy. While we did find gorgeous views around every bend in the trail (when we could find the trail), the view that most often greeted us was that of sheep running away from us.
While the trek was billed as “easy” or “facil” in Spanish, recent rains and erosion damaged the trail. For a mental image, imagine me scaling a cliff in a skirt (albeit knee length)…what was I thinking? [Sorry, G was too busy saving me to take a picture.] Or, better yet, 6 inches from the side of a cliff overhanging the Mediterranean 200 ft. or so below with no traction and only a pine tree to cling to…wow. Did I say respite? Every muscle we had ached on Friday morning. Thank goodness for hot tubs.
We also traveled in to Palma for a day. While glitzy neon meccas aren’t necessarily our cup of tea, we felt that we needed to give the town its fair shake. We traveled in, found the wide, picturesque beach, lounged, visited the cathedral, wandered the streets in search of lattes and headed home. We enjoyed our day in Palma, but left satisfied that we had made the right choice by staying in Port de Soller.