Cala Ratjada and Cap de Capdepera

My touring ambitions were diminishing. This was deliberate; I wanted to relax for the last couple of days before the big jump back home. So today I was only doing the north coast of Mallorca with perhaps a stop in Inca, in the centre of the island, to see how the Oktoberfest was going. (Yes, strangely they have it here, not sure if it's due to the German visitors or just something they adopted for fun. I'll add more details later if I find them.)

The itinerary was a drive through Alcudia, the next resort to the east of Pollença, and thence to Artà and Cala Ratjada. Alcudia I was leaving for tomorrow, but I saw it was a much larger resort than Port Pollença. Artà was said to be a good place to view Es Pla, the central plain of Mallorca, but the streets up to the ermita on the hill were so narrow that I feared I would not be able to extricate my car, so I pressed on. When I got to Cala Ratjada (which is actually a sizable town, not just a cove) I didn't see any parking and before I knew it, I was on the road to the lighthouse. So you are seeing the cape first.

This is the northeastern corner of Mallorca. From here there are views down south with your standard rocky outcrops.

And looking north, more rock and sea.

What you don't see in these pictures are all the other tourists on the cape. The road up the cape is single lane all the way with only a few places for passing. I was lucky to meet no cars coming down. I was also lucky to find a spot to park. Some people had walked up the hill from the town and a few hardy ones had cycled.

This group seemed to be getting a lecture from a guide.

This was one of 3 feral but not hostile cats I encountered on the cape. Well perhaps they were put there on purpose, to control rodents maybe; I saw that they had pet food and water put out for them in a nook.

Down in the town I found parking and walked down the main street. This grocer had a colourful collection of chillies hanging outside.

The guide said that Cala Ratjada was a favourite of German package tourists. They were indeed everywhere. I heard them on the beaches, in the streets, in the fields, in the landing grounds, oops wrong speech. All the signboards and menus had German translations, and even German dishes for those who didn't dare to try Spanish food.

This Italian restaurant is named after that famous Neapolitan song Oh My Fish or is it Oh My Shoe?

The marina was quite attractive.

I refreshed myself with a beer (non-alcoholic, because I was driving) and a gelato.

I liked the orange shutters of this hotel.

I headed inland towards Inca. Here the landscape was flat plains, unspectacular but of course vital for growing food. As I was passing through Manacor, a large industrial town, the sky opened up. So I parked the car and had a lunch of cold chicken and bread in the car.

Just as well I had done the Tramuntana already, it would be no fun in this weather. Then again I have it on good authority that The Rain in Mallorca Stays Mainly on the Plain so the mountains might have been ok. Hmm, that line doesn't sound catchy, I'll get back to you about that.

At Inca there was no sign of the Okoberfest. Maybe it was for the evening. The Lidl supermarket I stopped at on the way back had closed early, at 1500, for the Oktoberfest. Some German shoppers were also disappointed, I heard a father utter scheisse.