After our busy few days at the end of last week, it was
almost a relief to discover that Monday morning was grey and drizzly. Our son
had to rush off for an early business meeting, so we could take our time
getting ready to greet the day. Not too much time though as a friend of his was
on the doorstep at 10.30 am to take us into the covered market in Palma. In
Santa Catalina, in fact, which is close to the oldest part of Palma. A very
good place to visit on a grey day as the colours, sounds and smells were all
lively and intriguing. The fruit and vegetable stalls had the brightest colours
and some of the strangest items for sale that we had ever seen. Turnips that
were like white giant radishes; parsnips a whole 30 cm long; red and green
peppers at least double the size of any we had seen at home and the largest
variety of citrus one could imagine, gathered in one place. Lemons, limes,
oranges, clementines, satsumas and more, with a lovely citrusy scent in the
air. There were stalls baking and selling cakes and pastries, biscuits and
cookies, meat pies and quiches, both large and small. And this part of the
market had its own wonderful aromas. The smells around the fish and meat
counters I could have done without but it all added to the general overall
atmosphere.
After that, and a quick cup of coffee at a little place
across the road, our ‘driver’ had to leave, so we started strolling up and down
the streets of the Old Town enjoying the unexpected little squares that we came
across, and the cobbled streets. All the time it kept drizzling on and off
which was a bit of a shame, but it didn’t deter us.
The next day dawned fine and clear – an amazing change from
the previous day. Our son had to go off to a business meeting again, which
rather overran, so it was after twelve when we finally got away from the
apartment. Our destination was to be Deia, a small village to the north west of
Palma. It is probably the most famous village on Mallorca and was the home of
the poet Robert Graves. Little stone houses clamber up the hill from the main
road, and pour down into the valleys beyond. Any available land is terraced and
the terraces are planted with citrus and olive trees. The road to Deia was
steep and winding with innumerable hairpin bends, as was the road back again.
It makes us realise how mountainous this little island really is.
Wednesday was going to be our last day on the island but the
sun refused to come out, although it didn’t rain at all. Business meetings
again took up half the day so this time it was even later when we started off – this
time to St Elm on the west coast. This is a tiny and picturesque fishing
village set around a small bay guarded by two islands. The little town is
spotlessly clean and tidy and although really small by South African standards,
has a Blue Flag beach of which they are justifiably proud. Even the little
fishing boats drawn up on the slipway look as if they have been scrubbed!
By about 5.30 pm we were home again, just in time to do a
quick load of washing and drying before packing up ready for an incredibly
early start next day. And incredibly early it was! The alarm clock went off at
5 am and by quarter to six we were ready to leave for the airport. Our plane
left at 7.30 and arrived in Barcelona about 45 minutes later. Another couple of
hours went by until we could board the next plane to Toulouse which took just
less than an hour. Then all the clever planning went out of the window as we
had four hours to wait for the train to Villefranche. The time was not wasted
though as the airport is heated and comfortable with numerous cafes, so we
stayed there until it was time to catch the navette
to the station, then the train to Villefranche where our host collected us from
the station for the last 15 kilometers. We finally got home at about 7.30 pm
and an hour later we were in bed and almost asleep . We are definitely getting
far too old for this kind of long day!
Unfortunately, it would seem that we had hitched the bad
weather to our suitcases as the next day was cold and miserable, and we had to
force ourselves to go out and shop for supplies. But we were both still quite
weary so didn’t waste any time in getting home again where the heaters were on
and the rooms were warm.
People keep telling us that now that we have had the first
day of March, Spring must have started,
but you could easily fool us. The flowers are all out, with clumps of glorious
daffodils springing up in the most unexpected places and the fruit trees
covered in pink or white blossom but the grey days persist and the wind is
positively icy. Surely it is time for some slightly warmer weather!
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