Summer in Spain, part 3: Mallorca!


This is the final chapter in my Spanish posts. It feels odd and nostalgic to be posting this now (definitely says something about my organisational skills…) but this is officially when I stop talking about Spain.

My last week in Spain was spent with three incredible women, all totally different in their beautiful ways who you will undoubtedly see more of in times to come. And! with whom I intend to share my life and adventures with, and go on holiday with every year until the day we die. And possibly for a little while after that. This is something we have discussed, as a gentlewoman’s agreement, it’s gonna happen.

We arrived from four different airports, two different countries. Some tired and foot-sore, some worked to the bone, all ready for a holiday.

We came in the dead of night (well, like 10pm) took a taxi home and went straight to bed, not really knowing where we were, or how we managed to get ourselves to the house..

When we woke up, this is what we saw:



Rain. Rain and thunder and lightning and cloud. And Rain.

But luckily, we were thankful for the excuse to stay in the house and do nothing, and a game of cards or two later the rain had subsided and we wandered into Sóller for some Sangria.


Such a beautiful little town! With the tram running in front of the church in the main square, and all the restaurants arranged neatly around it, the smells of calamari and spices and wine mixing in the air…

The next day we headed down to the port to soak up some beach rays. That walk, along with the sunbathing, ice cream from the shop with the orange stripey awning, tapas and sangria became a bit of a theme. As did sitting on these rocks watching the sunset:

four women


yesWhen not conversing on philosophy, love, money and the like at the tapas restaurant on the beach, our evenings were spent unleashing our culinary genius at home (note the giant cauldron of home-made sangria, inc home-grown oranges).


The island of Mallorca is truly beautiful. Totally unlike anywhere else I’d visited in Spain. It’s humid and mountainous and foresty. In the rural parts, it felt like there were more cats than there were people. And unlike Vigo where everything is connected with a neatly colour-coded network of buses, if you want to go anywhere, you take one of two buses, the long one or the short one. For a trip into the mountains to Valldemosa, we took the long one. It was not a pleasant journey. Winding roads and a lack of seats do not equal comfortable and nausea-free bus trip. Luckily, we are composed and generally fantastic young women, and recovered in a swift and graceful fashion (ahem..)




As well as eating, drinking and sunbathing, we women also enjoy excursions to exciting cities such as Palma de Mallorca, especially when getting there is via cool antiquey trains through the mountains..



yesIn a blissfully empty carriage, hanging heads out of windows in a content manner like dogs, is obligatory.

Palma is a great city. With a million narrow streets that all look the same, meaning we got lost… often.. (my bad). But the amount of ice cream, seriously photogenic buildings, white sand and awe-inspiring bookshops made up for the lack of (my) map-reading abilities.



We decided to go there again for a sort of birthday celebration. We booked a hostel, went shopping, ate tapas, and drank far too many Chupitos. But it was a goood time. 🙂

Tip: when on holiday on your birthday, be sure to tell all the bartenders what day it is. You will get free things. We were treated to one guy’s own invention of hazelnut liqueur and a lemon slice dipped in cocoa powder. It made for delicious, and thoroughly irresponsible, drinking. And an exciting red thing that took another guy 20 minutes to make.

Tip2: Make sure that the free things don’t include Absinthe.


^ My birthday presents! Officially the luckiest 22 year old in all of Palma.

yup^ Spying through the gates into someone’s secret courtyard.

I mentioned briefly in this post the little bookshop we visited. If I could remember exactly where it was, I’d tell you. But I can’t. So if you’re ever in Palma and find yourself wandering down the streets by the Cathedral, be sure to keep an eye out for a little over-spilling bookshop with a loud Cockney man telling stories inside, pictures of Ronnie Wood and a trickle of probably quite emotional/inspired people. We stumbled across it on our way home and definitely ended up spending a good few hours in there. Packed shelves from top to bottom in each of its labyrinthine rooms, with books of all kinds from all eras and in many different languages. There was even a map room (sort of). As well as piles of junk (or treasure) like globes and lanterns and picnic chairs and ships wheels and notes left by happy customers. I managed to find a book from the 1700s, which makes it older than Australia! I bought Angus a book of gruesome legends and my sister a collection of old photos of Italy. After speaking to the owner for a while, who’d moved there 40 years ago and seemingly not left his little shop since, slowly building up his collection and meeting people from all over the world, we each came away with a map of Palma to take home.

the map room


The following day, we grudgingly started making our way back to England and our normal lives, one by one.

maybeMallorca is beautiful, my friends are awesome. A trip to make my year, and one hopefully to be repeated many times. A perfect end to my Spanish adventures. Go travelling, if you can, all the time. But take a camera, take friends, make friends and keep going till you can’t go anymore. Spain, we’ll be back…


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  1. I thought this was a lovely, inspiring post. I cant wait to go traveling myself 🙂 xx

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