Portixol and Palma - Saturday 14th October 2017

I wake up and stretch, wonder what time it might be. I am alarmed to discover it is 1pm in the afternoon!  Peter's up for some time. Jill surfaces even later than I do. Why not. We had a very late night (aka early morning) and we don’t have to be at work or anywhere else. That makes it all okay, right!

End result, we have completely missed morning but it simply doesn’t matter, we are compensating for this by making the most of the nights. Which is what you do in this part of the world. 

We obviously needed the sleep! I

I go out to the garden and lie down in the shade. Close my eyes. I am totally exhausted - it’s not a hangover, even though you may not believe this - I am so deeply relaxed that my limbs feel like lead and moving seems like hard work. We chat and lounge around for a bit. Have a big brunch. Feel even more exhausted. We have definitely wound right down to zero. It’s a good feeling. 

We read and snooze and chat. I feel so incredibly relaxed that I think I might never be able to rise up again. Peter is worried that I am not moving. But eventually I do. It’s time to attack the evening. That brings me to life!

We head out at around 4pm and head to Palma. Its about an hour's walk, just the thing on a perfect afternoon with blue skies and a warm breeze. We pass the small and pretty port of Mollinar, stroll onwards towards Portixol which has a larger port full of boats of all description. Cyclists and roller bladers are out in force and the bars along the seafront are buzzing. 

Portixol

We head to the rooftop bar of the new Melia hotel in Portixol; it’s a sleek modern building next to a massive new conference/exhibition centre where Volkswagen is about to hold a month-long conference. What a superb venue for a meeting or two. 

Once on the Rooftop bar, the cold beer slips down easily as we take in the fabulous views of the coast and the townships sprawling out to the hills. The beautiful cathedral in Palma rises majestically above the old town. Jazz music plays. Hotel guests lounge by the rooftop pool. Planes come and go in the distance ferrying tourists to and from the busy airport. A cruise liner sails away; its passengers will have had an awesome day in this fabulous place. We have a great overview of the comings and goings of this island city. 

We’d like to stay longer at this bar but we continue on towards Palma. We approach the old town, walk through an area being set up for the big marathon tomorrow, arrive in the square. We poke around some beautiful shops full of beautiful homeware. Tucked up narrow side streets they sell gorgeous things for inside and out. The buildings are fabulous. The staff friendly and cheerful. 

We walk through the town, past fountains and squares and Churches. Pop into Zara. Browse in windows. Wander up lanes. Dusk is falling and the lights come on. The whole place has a mellow golden glow as the sandstone takes on its evening tone.

People sit at cafes in the warm evening air. Families wander the streets eating ice-cream. Couples embrace. It’s Saturday night and the town is lively but not crowded. I love the pedestrian areas, the squares, the old buildings, the Churches, the sumptuous windows. The palm trees everywhere add an exotic touch. It’s a clean, streamlined and  safe city. It all makes for picture-perfect evening ambling. I love it.

We take a seat at a little local cafe with a yellow awning; we are meeting Jill and Peter’s friend Sarah who hails from Teeside but now lives here. We order beers and Sarah arrives, feeling rather hot and bothered after an ultra-busy day. We are chilled and soon enough, so is she. We have a wine; chat and laugh; and then head to the restaurant Jill and Peter have booked for 9pm. El Murada, one of their favourites. It is situated within the old wall of the old town and is a busy place. We have a table outside but opt to move inside, as the air has a freshness about it and Peter didn’t bring a jumper. There is also the matter of the tiger mosquitoes that hang about and bite. No thanks.

The Vitello carpaccio starter is very good indeed. Sarah’s husband Jonathan joins us for a short while; he is on his way to work. Outside, lights twinkle, and inside the conversation flows easily. The ambience of the night is just right.

I order the lobster and crayfish tortelloni for my main. OMG it is unbelievably good. I’ve never had anything quite like it before. Peter has had it several times, and he orders it again tonight. We polish off every morsel with noises of approval and satisfaction. I savour the exquisite taste, for I might not eat such a heavenly pasta dish for quite some time. 

The last piece of pure pasta heaven I still savour in my mind was a lunch in Taormina, Sicily, back in 2009. Pistachio farfalle. I can still recall the taste and texture. Tonight’s dish has similar memorable attributes.

The crisp white wine washes it down very nicely. None of us have any room for dessert. It is just past midnight, the night is young, Sarah is suggesting a nightcap in town. Hmmm, here’s a dilemma. We are tempted but after two very late nights in a row we are sensible and decline. We have quite a long walk home and are feeling a little weary, not to mention replete.

The walk along the seafront promenade is both revitalising and soporific. We arrive home, have enough energy for a glass of red and then sensibly retire at a reasonable hour. It is 1.3am. It is positively early.

It’s been a wonderfully mellow day of rest, regeneration and great food and wine. Plus a jolly good walk. Sleep is as heavenly as the crayfish pasta.

OBSERVATION OF THE DAY:

The population of the island of Mallorca is just over 1 million. It swells to 2 million in the height of the holiday season. Tourism is the main industry, along with a bit of agriculture. People from all over Europe (especially Germany) come here to holiday in resorts dotted all over the island.

The locals are a good looking bunch, who seem to love life. They speak their own dialect and speak English very well. Service on the island is second-to-none.  Professional, polished, friendly and swift. It’s a pleasure to be served, and they appear to have pleasure serving. 

There are many worse vocations in life than being a waiter at a lovely bar on the Med in the sunshine on an island where time doesn’t matter too much. There can’t be too many things better in life than being a customer on holiday in that same bar. 

Heaven.