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Mallorca (as the locals call it). Bloody unreal as I'd describe it.
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| Cop that. Our little beach |
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For the Geographically minded, Mallorca is about 120km by 60 km and is off the Spanish coast in the Med. It is surrounded by bloody enormous pleasure boats and has over 20 million almond trees growing on it (no one has yet been able to count the olive trees I reckon).
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| Typical coastline on the far side of the Island |
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Palma is the main centre of the Island and the hub of life. Within Palma there is a beautiful old cathedral (sorry but no photos as it was adorned in scaffolding when we were there) tiny little streets aplenty where the eaves of the buildings almost lean together above you, little corner cafes serving up delicious espressos and a beautiful Mediterranian feel about the whole place. But there is not an island paradise that is not complete without its little bit of England (just to cater to the Northerners). This part of the island was called Magalluf (or Shagulluf or Megamuff) and was full of bars and cafes selling Boddingtons, Stella, full English breakfasts and chips to loads of pink poached poms who all sat around watching Eastenders and the Footy on the telly and commenting to each other "init just great, this 'ole 'oliday stuff an all" when they have not actually moved from the bar and realised that they are on an island. Gotta have it!
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| This cute little cafe cut into the rock had the most amazing cooking smells wafting over the bay |
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Although we didn't get everywhere we wanted we did get to a little town called Valldemossa snuggled away on the North West side of the island. Very pretty and home to a very old monastery - Real Cartuja d Valldemossa which translates to Royal Charterhouse of Valldemossa. Among its many distinguished residents was one F. Chopin and you can see where he lived and also view his original scores. I tell you what, after looking at the scores I think he was a very messy writer!
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| Real Cartuja de Valldemossa |
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The monks had it right. They built their monastery on a hilltop, protected behind by larger hills and looking down a beautiful valley with terraced slopes on either side. Each cell in the monastery led out to a private garden overlooking this view. Just the thing for a spot of meditation and relaxation. The Order where only allowed to talk for half an hour on Thursdays, the rest of the time they observed a vow of silence, which was probably just as well because it would have stopped the jokers prattling off some inane comment like "how about this view then".
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| The altar in the church in the monastery |
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Crikey! There is so much more I could say about this place, but I am running out of room, so you will just have to imagine...
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