Time to leave Eivissa for the last inter-island hop to Mallorca to finish touring it. Iberia seemed to be having Monday wobbles in service; the flight before mine was delayed to be after mine. My own flight suffered a ½ hour delay. Well at least I arrived and won't have to fly with them anytime in the foreseeable future.
When I planned the trip, a minor but critical detail was where and when to get my clothes washed. The first juncture was in Maó where the hostal arranged it for me. This was the second juncture and I had picked out a lavanderia in Palma, even working out where to alight the bus from the airport. It was operating when I got there, the unexpected change was that there was no self-service. But they would take my money to wash and dry for me, which was even better, because I could then go for lunch.
The lavanderia was just across the street from the food market. I had lunch in a nearby restaurant but it was forgettable. The albondigas (meatballs) were padded with extender and they burnt the french fries. Really, how can anybody ruin a simple dish like that?
I asked about a box of persimmons at a stall as they were closing and the woman said no son persimones, son kakis. Hmm? I bought the box anyway and it was cheap at 2€ for 10 or so. When I got to the hotel they tasted like squishy sweet seedless persimmons. I looked up kaki and it is indeed of the persimmon family. The stall also sold the more squat persimmon I see in markets at home; they are just more discriminating in naming them here.
So that was my clean clothes problem solved for the remainder of the trip. After showering and resting, I walked through the paseo crowds to Cine Augusta to see Woody Allen's latest film To Rome With Love. I thought it was subtitled but it was dubbed. Comprehending speech in real-time was so much harder than reading Spanish, but I got the gist of the story, or rather the 4 parallel and non-intersecting stories, a device favoured by many Italian comedies, not surprising given that it was a co-production with Italy.
There were a lot of older people in the cinema causing a short queue at the box office. Perhaps it might have been for the same reason I was there: cheap Monday. But the city as a whole seemed more alive than a fortnight ago. Was it the start of the cultural season and people were going to films, concerts, and other events? Or was it the large cruise ship in the harbour injecting well-heeled tourists wanting a good time in town? Whatever the reason it was great to be in a medium sized city again rather than a provincial town.
The film ended about 2030, about right for Spanish dinner. But I couldn't work up enthusiasm for another sit-down dinner. Then I saw the prepared food section in El Corte Inglés (The English Cut, a well-known chain of Spanish department stores) which was still open, until 2130. I bought paella and a strawberry pastry to eat in my room. The paella was tasty but the rice grains were undercooked and I wasn't sure if this was normal. The pastry was yummy.
I felt sorry to be leaving Menorca. It was a mellow place. These feelings were engendered by an early morning walk to the fish market. But then I reflected, I'm a tourist, I live in a bubble created by my status, I can leave when I want, whenever it gets boring. The locals have to stay, they have to earn a living, they have to deal with problems, they can't just move on. Incidentally the fish market was closed and looked like it had been for a long time. Perhaps it had moved elsewhere, closer to where most people live and the building was awaiting repurposing.
This was the day I would be on all four major Balearic islands within a 6 hour period. Departing Menorca went without a hitch. The small jet landed me in Palma de Mallorca airport and I waited in the departure lounge while they refueled. As I suspected, the same jet then became the Mallorca to Eivissa service. We even left by the same gate. Where's Eivissa, you ask. It's the Catalan name of what most people know by its Spanish name Ibiza. I collected my backpack and caught the bus into town. It dropped me off metres from the ferries to Formentera, the smallest of the 4 major islands.
A couple of days before, the hotel in Formentera had sent me a coupon for 50% off a return ticket from 1st October. It was a campaign to woo more tourists. This was very fortunate for me and the counter clerk accepted a copy on my e-book reader, so I didn't have to print it.
The ferry was large, stable and comfortable. It was nowhere near capacity which is why they were eager for more passengers.
I watched as we left Eivissa harbour, then the ferry accelerated as soon as were out of the speed restricted zone. I settled in my chair. I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew, we were disembarking at La Savina, Formentera's port.
At this point my luck with smooth connections ran out. The timetable at the bus stop showed that new reduced schedules had commenced 1st October and the next bus to Es Pujols, where my hotel was, wasn't due for an hour. The timetable giveth and the timetable taketh. I didn't mind the wait so much, I took the opportunity to have a look at La Savina harbour and take some pictures, but I didn't like lugging a backpack all the time.
After freshening up I went down to the waterfront in the evening. Everybody was enjoying the evening paseo or having dinner in the restaurants. There seemed to be many Germans and Italians in Formentera. When I did my research, there were many guest reviews in Italian. Even some staff were Italian, I think. The waitress who took my pizza order spoke some Italian to customers.
There was a full moon over the water. The hotel had provided a free evening drink so I finished off with a glass of sangria in the lounge. There were heaps of shops in town to rent a bike or a moped from. I wondered how to choose one.
