Mallorca 2009 Chapter 6

MALLORCA

Chapter 6

Goodness me!! Nearly a week since I last wrote anything, but perhaps you will gather that we have been busy ‘doing’, or talking too much. After our day at Valdemossa, we had a fairly quiet day, giving Dave and Cynthia a chance to do their packing prior to going to the UK for a few days. That evening we all went into Palma to meet Karen and Bruce off the ferry and get their impressions of the famous party island of Ibiza. Apparently, it was a bit of a let-down as they found the town fairly quiet in spite of it being a long weekend, due to it being Spain’s National Day on the Monday. They also thought it was quite grubby compared to Mallorca, but raved about the beaches which are many and varied.
The next day we had to get to the airport before midday to return the ‘big’ car and retrieve the smaller one, or be charged for another day. It suited everyone well as K&B wanted to go into Palma, and Dave and Cynthia had to be at the airport by 1 pm anyway to check in. We made the swop, getting a Citroen C4 hatchback, which seemed infinitely smaller and more comfortable for Neels to drive; said our temporary goodbyes to our friends and drove back to Palma to meet up with Karen and Bruce. By some miracle we found an underground parking garage that didn’t charge the earth for parking, and then when we emerged from underground like a couple of moles, we went into the nearest shop and asked someone to mark the spot with a cross, on our map. Then we phoned Karen to find out where they were and set off towards them. It is very confusing though as some of the streets in the old town are little more than passages and after walking for about half an hour we decided to ask the way, so in good old British style, we asked a policeman, or in this case, a policewoman. Before she could answer, however, a fellow passing by spun round saying, “You aska da way. I tella you. I spikka da good Eenglis” and proceeded to point back down the road we had just come along. Dismayed, we tried to establish where the sea was, and after some handwaving, pointing to the blue on the map and saying ‘ Le mar’, we discovered that he was quite right. Somehow we had walked in a circle and would now have to retrace our steps. But it is an ill wind that blows no-one any good (as they say) and in trying to find Karen and Bruce we came across the Placa Major which is the central square of the old town. Karen and Bruce actually found us before we found them and we thought it a very good idea to have lunch at one of the street cafes in the square. What a fascinating place to stop for a while. As we entered the square my attention was caught by a man in pirate costume having a mock sword fight with a little boy. A bit further in was a statue of a chimney sweep, only it wasn’t statue at all, but a real person standing on a plinth, and standing very, very still. Further on was another little tableau, this time of a man and woman who appeared to have been made out of sandstone, or perhaps mud. She had a rose (made of the same material) while he had a cigar and a bottle (also of mud). If money was dropped into their collection plate, they would go through an elaborate series of slow moves in which the rose, the bottle and the cigar changed hands several times until everything was back where it started and then they would revert to absolute stillness again. Their muscles must ache at the end of a day out there.
Another attraction was the invisible man who was inviting passing ladies to dance with him. All one could see was a hat and a pair of dark glasses perched above a suit. No head was showing and he was wearing gloves to cover his hands. It doesn’t sound nearly as spectacular as it looked. There were also portrait artists sitting at various places around the square drawing instant portraits. Most of them were very good, and I’m sure make a good living out of doing this.
Soon though, it was time to go, so we made our way back to the cross on the map, and would you believe it, we came out at the right place!
The next day dawned grey and chilly, but in spite of that we decided to have one last splendid meal before Karen and Bruce had to leave us, so we went off to Port d’Andratx about 20 kms away. What a shame it was so cool, because we found an idyllic place to lunch on the water’s edge with a view of the constant traffic of pleasure boats and working fishing boats going in and out of the harbour. The fishing boats could be identified from quite far out to sea as each one had it’s own little cloud of seagulls accompanying it, drifting along in the air at exactly the same speed as the boat almost as if they were tied to the mast with strings of different lengths.
We had now come to the end of Wednesday 14th and it was heavy hearts that we returned home that afternoon as we all knew that the next thing on the agenda was for Karen and Bruce to pack as they would be leaving the next day. Bruce even commented at some time in the evening that he had that ‘Sunday-afternoon-going-back-to-boarding-school’ feeling.
We had a late-ish start on Thursday and then went off to drop them at about midday. While there, we handed the car in, again, this time because it had started making a terrible noise when we went around corners. I was quite certain the front wheels were going to fall off, but Neels said he didn’t think that would happen. Although the car hire company must be quite sick of seeing us now, they were very pleasant and changed the car for another C4, this time a saloon which is really quite a large vehicle. If this one lasts until we leave, we will have no problems with getting ourselves and the luggage into it as it has a massive boot!
The apartment seemed very empty when we returned to it with only ourselves to rattle around in it, but we got busy with a bit of housework and soon made the time go.
I seem to remember saying at some time during our French holiday that travel certainly increases one’s language skills whether you are aware of it or not. Last year I learnt some unusual words to add to my French vocabulary and this year we are adding words to our Spanish wordlist. Thankfully not words like kidney stone, but while shopping for some extra linen for the apartment, I had to learn the words for pillow, pillowcase, duvet and duvet cover as the place we went to was so huge that if we hadn’t asked where to find things, we would probably still be wandering around peering at the pictures on the likely packages.