Ciutadella 2

Breakfast included ensaïmadas, among other pastries. Incidentally they come in larger sizes. Ones the size of pizzas are sold for about 10€ and come in octagonal cardboard boxes, presumably to be used as visiting presents.

Charming as Ciutadella is, I wasn't spending all my time in it. I planned to visit a couple of nearby beaches using public buses. The guide book recommended Cala Santandria, an easy 20 minute ride to the south. Fortunately I mentioned to the driver where I wanted to go because it was not obvious sitting on the bus where to get off and walk the 200m towards the beach. This is how the cala (cove) appears looking out to sea.

And this is looking back at the beach from a point on a nearby path. I didn't swim as I had nowhere to keep my belongings.

There was a raft of ducks in the water. I wondered where they fed. Maybe they didn't live around there and were tourists too, in the middle of a migration. Speaking of migration, the bus spiel on Sunday had mentioned that during summer, the population of the islands swells with seasonal workers for the tourism industry.

I passed some time reading, alternating on my e-reader between Sherlock Holmes stories and a very amusing memoir of working as an English language teacher in Japan, by Nicholas Klar. I moved whenever my limbs got stiff or the shade moved.

The nearby paths were easily exhausted, so after a lunch of Cuban fried rice (nothing special) and draft beer at a beachside bar, I returned to Ciutadella.

I tried a gelato made with local zarzamora (blackberry). At first I thought the label read zanahoria. Carrot ice-cream, what a concept. But it was too dark to be carrot.

This is one of the several gelaterias I patronised. As you can see, they have used a mug shot of me for their shop banner, hahaha.

I think the Mediterranean tradition of a siesta is very sensible for hot afternoons so who was I to argue with something that works.

That evening I found El Horno, another recommended restaurant and had the fish soup, which was very good.

This was followed by calamares a la plancha (grilled squid) which was also very good. The restaurant was quiet, there was only a Japanese couple there when I started. But evidently the customers who started filling the restaurant understood Spanish dining hours. This included a well dressed older British couple, possibly staying in a nearby resort and in town for dinner. He spoke some Spanish so probably a well-educated person.

After dinner I walked down steps to the harbour. The building overlooking the harbour is the ajuntament (government office).

Restaurants there were still serving diners. I gathered from a poster in town that  in summer dance parties are staged on the opposite side of the cove to the one in the picture. This jazz club offers more sedate entertainment which I didn't look into. It's here that the access road makes a hairpin bend and ascends to the level of the city.

To close the night out, I tried another local flavour of gelato, higos (figs).

I made a 6 minute movie using that feature on my camera, walking through the heart of the city, from Plaça des Borns to Plaça de ses Palmeres (apparently called Plaça D' Alfons III Conqueridor now). You can view it on YouTube (link if preview not showing).

Ciutadella 1

Time to change islands. Not that I disliked Mallorca, but my research had indicated that the tourist season on Menorca was shorter and therefore I should go there earlier rather than later. Also as I was recovering from jetlag, a quieter island would be more suitable.

Inspite of my worries about check-in margins, the airport bus deposited me with plenty of time to spare. In fact I arrived at the departure lounge just as the previous flight was boarding. It was a small jet, unlike the propeller one I got. Flight time was a mere 25 minutes and we spent more time taxiing and getting to cruising height. Balearic citizens get a discount on fares as the service keeps the region united. When I was doing my trip research, I was puzzled to find hardly any ferry services after summer. Then I realised: everybody flies now.

Menorca airport was small and quiet but also very tidy and well maintained. I lucked out, the airport bus was almost leaving when I walked out with my backpack. Otherwise it would have been a 30 minute wait. So I had 1h15 to have lunch before the next bus to Ciutadella.

The first thing I noticed about Menorca is that it is windy. Did I arrive on a windy day or was it always like this? On the bus I saw stone walls around plots of land. And at Ciutadella there was this windmill, long out of use and now a bar/restaurant. They wouldn't build a windmill in the old days unless they could use it. So the wind was climate, not weather. The guide book confirmed this. It's windy because of the lack of a significant mountain range to obstruct the wind.

It took me longer than expected to find the hostal. The compass was useless. Maybe it has been demagnetised in an X-ray machine. Seeing that I was sweating hard, the hostal manager tried to upsell me, but not very aggressively, to an air-con room. I stuck with the room with a fan. And I discovered that through the expedient of leaving my door open, a pleasant cooling breeze would flow through the room. Which wasn't a problem as there were no other guests on my floor. Very nice.

That evening, after siesta, I took a walk through the streets of the old town. I had expected a sleepy little town, but Ciutadella was delightful. It was clean and tidy and there was a great variety of stores with quality goods or services. Fashion, footwear, beauty, health, books, gourmet food, appliances, phones, were just some of the things sold. Then there were the restaurants, cafés and gelaterias, many with outdoor tables and chairs, doing brisk business.

The visitors seemed to be well-to-do. Many were Spanish, but I heard English and German, among other languages.

It looked like Menorca was faring better than Mallorca in these financially challenging times. It seems that Menorca's strategy is to aim for a better class of tourist. It has always been less well-known than its bigger sibling and so has had more selective visitors.

Down at the water I found this charming little harbour built in a long natural cove. Such coves are all over the Balearic Islands and provide beautiful swimming beaches.

The harbour is lined with restaurants, so you could step off your pleasure craft, have dinner, and then not worry about getting breath-tested during the few steps to your accommodation.

I was bowled over by all this. I was expecting a sleepy little town where I might have to walk back though deserted streets after dining in one of the two decent restaurants. I had not expected such a charming gem of a town.

I found La Guitarra, mentioned in the guide as serving regional food. I had a Mallorcan soup for starters. It consisted of vegetables such as cabbage and cauliflower in a thick meat stew. The main course was roast pig Menorcan style. They were both very tasty. Generally having both a starter and a main is too filling for me, but I couldn't help myself. The bill was very reasonable for what I had.

I had another look at the harbour after sunset and it was even more beautiful, if that is possible. There are steps and a road down to the harbour, but I left it for later. Mustn't have too many good things at once.

I finished my outing with a scoop of marduixa (strawberry) gelato, made with local fruit. There were some director chairs outside the gelateria for customers. Ah, contentment.

When I got back to my room I thought I would have a little nap before having my shower and writing the blog. The glass of red wine I had with dinner must have sent me over the edge as the next thing I knew, it was daybreak. I had vague memories of waking up in the middle of the night and turning off the netbook and the light.

Palma de Mallorca 1

It was now time to devote some attention to Palma's sights. The top two on my list were Bellver Castle and the Cathedral. Sunday services prevented viewing its interior. Never mind, not of that much interest to me. The Castle was trickier. It's a 30 minute uphill walk from the nearest bus stop. I did not fancy this as it was a bit humid. So I decided to pay for the Hop On Hop Off Sightseeing Bus, which visits this site. You have probably seen these open top buses laden with gawking tourists circulating in your city. Normally I hate guided tours, but these had enough flexibility.

As the services didn't start until 1000, I had an early morning walk in the city. I found Plaça Major where stalls were setting up. There were buildings nearby with Gaudi-esque features.

Then I had to find the starting point of the buses. A false start found me at Es Baluard, the contemporary art museum, near the western end of Avda. Jaime III, a well known shopping street, looking in vain for the sales desk. (I later discovered that I could have joined at any stop.) No luck, so I retraced my steps to Passeig del Born, and found the service nearby. Later I found that I had made an error with the location name. It was Antoni Maura, not Antoni Jaime or Jaume. I should have remembered, because of Carmen Maura.

But it was not all wasted effort. During the walk I passed a patisserie and bought an ensaïmada, dusted with icing sugar. I ate it while sitting on a bench near the Passeig. It was not as filling as I had feared. It was light, almost insubstantial and not greasy at all.

I enjoyed riding in the breeze on the top deck. The bus took us past familiar points, such as the Plaça Espanya, then passed the Cathedral from the seaward side, on Passeig Maritim, which is built on reclaimed land.

We ascended the hill to the Castell Bellver and were deposited to the car park. Entrance was free because it was Sunday and there were no tour services (another reason for visiting it today). After ascending several staircases you reach this viewing area.

From here you have a view of the port of Palma. It was a bit hazy due to the humidity but the Cathedral could be made out in the distance.

The interior of the castle is used these days for concert events.

Then it was back east along Passeig Maritim. This harbour area is where many nightspots are located, presumably within easy reach of the pleasure craft in the marina.

At Avda. Jaimie III I left the tour bus, intending to rejoin for an evening ride, and walked back to Passeig del Born. About this time I also decided that I wasn't really that interested in seeing the Cathedral close up. Maybe later, in a couple of weeks. I entered the narrow alleyways of the old city and encountered this monastery selling confections from its bakery. It was only on weekdays and at very particular hours so there were no sales happening.

I tried to find a place offering a three course menu of the day, typically salad, a main and desert plus a drink, but to no avail. I settled for pizza at an open air cafe. But even that was denied me, the waitress said they weren't making any at that hour but offered a substitute called cruji, which was toasted bread with pizza topping. It was quite alright. The implement is to slice the cruji, and the text warns not to burn oneself on the metal, hot from the oven.

In the evening, after a siesta, I went to rejoin the tour bus for an evening ride through Palma. On the way I passed a gathering of fantasy fans in the station's plaza. They were pretending to be medieval warriors, their comic book character, trekkies or whatever took their fancy. I suppose it gives them something to do, as employment opportunities are dire with half of Spain's youth out of work.

Nearby was a jumping castle and other amusements.

No tour bus arrived during the time I waited. I read the schedule at the stop and it only ran till 2000 this time of year. It was almost that time and the last run had already gone, so no evening ride for me.

I had a sub sandwich for dinner. The manager was Indian so I switched to English to avoid remembering the names of the vegies in Spanish. But I did anyway, and my sub toppings were: tomate, lechuga, pepino, cebolla, y aceitunas.

I finished the night with a café con leche at Café Món and tried my hand at reading a Catalan newspaper. With my knowledge of Spanish I could get about 30% of the words immediately and guess another 30% from context. There was news about the latest hardships due to cuts to social services. A poor girl had been run over the night before on Passeig Maritim by a drunk driver. There was commentary on the European scene and the US elections.

Sóller

I woke around 0600, not bad considering this was 1400 back home. It was still dark; Mallorca is  west of its timezone longitude, and it was also on summer time, so the sun sets late. I could see why some reviewers, perhaps Germans used to lots of choice at breakfast, complained that the selection was poor. There was one type of most things; one salami, one cheese, one jam, one yoghurt. But there were a few types of bread and pastries. That was fine by me. No ensaïmadas unfortunately; I would have to try those elsewhere.

The streets to the station were very quiet, being Saturday morning. I had marked this day for Sóller and its port. First, it was market day in Sóller. Second, there was a ride on the historic Palma - Soller train. I had also decided to take the advice of a forum post which suggested going early on the bus and returning by train in the early afternoon, before everybody tries to leave by the last service of the day at 1800. This suited my body clock fine.

The Sóller train station and metro+bus station are side by side. I took the 0930 bus to Port de Sóller via Valldemossa and Deià. Smallholdings of olive trees lined the highway. This side of the Serra de Tramuntana, the main range of Mallorca, the slopes were patchy. On the other side of the divide, it was lusher. Valldemossa was chock full of tourists as it's an easy day trip from Palma and nearby resorts. There were heaps of holiday residences in sight. Frederic Chopin and George Sand stayed here back in 1838.

We followed the coast on a tortuous road with great views over steep cliffs to the Mediterranean. I could see why the classical scholar and poet Robert Graves made Deià his home, turning out works such as I, Claudius and The Greek Myths here, instead of in dreary England.

Finally we were deposited in Port de Sóller. It has a little sheltered cove and is popular with the French and British. The sand was brown, but the harbour had some charm.

I spent about an hour walking along the esplanade and exploring the small streets behind the harbour. Its sights were easily exhausted, which was just as well because I had to catch the1200 tram to Soller to have enough time to catch the train at 1400.

The tram line was single and we had to wait at the midpoint for the descending service to swap over.

The tram went right through the street where the market was being held. I got off, the tram started up again and I realised that the tram terminus was further up. On second thought, I realised that I had done the right thing. I could work my way up from the markets to the train station.

There were stalls selling clothing and artistic artifacts. I was more interested by the local products: pastries, confectionery, smallgoods, cheese, bread and olives, though I only came away with some saturn peaches from the local market. If they were anything like the ones I had in Italy, they would be juicy and sweet. I was not disappointed when I tried them after lunch.

The town square with a cathedral overlooking it was chock full of tourists viewing the stalls or having drinks or lunch in the open air. So were the side streets.

I had about an hour. If I went for one of the tourist selections, it might involve a long wait and might be overpriced too. What to do?

Walking past a cafe I saw that they offered Pa amb Oli (Bread with (Olive) Oil). In fact there is usually something more on the bread, in this case serrano ham and cheese.That should be quick to serve and eat, and light enough for me.

When the plate arrived there was salad too so it was an excellent choice. The restaurant also had a sunny garden which was popular and fully seated.

At this point I still didn't know where the train station was. Ah wait, just retrace my steps to the town square where the tram line is and follow it to the terminus. Sóller is not a large town and soon the train station hove into view. 

There were a couple of kittens near the tracks. There were a bit too nervous to let anybody touch them.

The carriages filled up quickly. Couples and families on a day outing accounted for most of the passengers. The train went through many tunnels on the way up the mountain.

A Spanish extended family with lively kids got off at Bunyola. That was smart of them because it was boring landscape for the rest of way to Palma. Some industrial land with waste strewn about some lots. Perhaps the recession has reduced the policing of dumping. The train went through the city streets on the way home. A Chinese run variety shop was named El Corte Chino (The Chinese Cut), a play on El Corte Inglés (The English Cut), a large department store and supermarket chain. I encountered many Chinese run shops. One wonders how they are surviving the recession.

As I was still falling asleep early, I decided to just eat the food I had with me and not go to a restaurant. At a supermarket I bought some bottled water and apples. I forgot to weigh the apples in their section, expecting there to be a scale at the cashier. She was understanding.

A day in the air

Abu Dhabi airport seems to have not kept up with Etihad's ambitious growth plans. There were bottlenecks in passenger handling, and the older gates in the circular terminal, which seemed to have been modelled after Paris CDG, butt of Jacques Tati lampooning, did not have enough seats.

I spotted what looked like a queue of people for a glass booth. Must be trying to get to a public phone, I thought at first glance. Wait a moment, who uses public phones these days when everyone has a mobile. On second look, yes it was indeed a smoking booth for tobacco addicts.

At Münich airport I had intended to get a bite at the Thai restaurant, but seeing the offer of weisswurst, mustard, pretzel and weissbier (wheat beer) I thought: when in Münich, etc. When I asked for the special, the assistant pointed me to the self-service area. Ah, of course. Then I had trouble understanding what the lady was saying about tablett until I realised it was German for tray. I took my meal in the small football themed open air eating area. It was a sunny cool day with temperatures in the high teens. A group of nearby Turks were amused by me taking a picture of my meal. There was no escaping being labelled as a tourist anyway.

It seems that you can even buy an iPad from this vending machine. One up on the Japanese.

Palma de Mallorca airport is huge as it has to handle a flood of tourist traffic in season. I was worried when my backpack had not come out when everybody else had left. Then I spotted it on a nearby belt, this one in the non-EU area. I had wondered how they would let me bring in baggage without inspection on entering the EU if my baggage was checked through and lumped with those of all the other tourists on the internal EU flight from Munich. Now I knew. I wish they had told me this when I checked in at Sydney. In the event, the inspection station was not running.

I caught the city bus to the combined metro and bus station. It was only supposed to be a 15 minute walk but I got a bit lost not following the map instructions to the letter and wasted some minutes retracing my path. Finally I reached the hotel and got to bed around 2300 local time, which was 0700 back home. Amazing that I was still cogent by then. I had stayed up late in the nights preceding but it was way past my bed time.

Loose ends

Nothing like planning for a long trip to discover how much unfinished business you have. That defunct stove ring? Will have to wait. Painting the wall? Later. At least it will still be spring cleaning season when I return.

One worries about little mishaps before the flight. What if the rail system were to have a breakdown while I was en route to the airport? But once I was on the train I relaxed, even though it was still a possibility because it was out of my hands; I had done what I could. But everything went according to plan and we took off. I had a long flight ahead of me, over 30 hours, though some of them in layovers.