Mallorca, out of everywhere we went, was my least favorite stop. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t Spain—it was a cheap resort for British people, or at least the area where we stayed. It was a nice enough place, but it was touristy and beachy just like a million other places anywhere in the world. If I’m going to be in Spain, I’d rather be somewhere where I can experience a culture and food and atmosphere that is decidedly Spanish. I didn’t speak Spanish in Mallorca because they all spoke with English accents. We were foreigners not because we weren’t from Spain, but because we weren’t from the UK. All the restaurants offered fish and chips and shepherd’s pie with mushy peas. Kelli got her second piercing done, and the lady who did it had a really thick English accent. When we asked her how long she had lived in Mallorca, she said she was born here, and had lived in Mallorca all her life! We literally found ourselves in Little Britain. I know there are super beautiful, expensive places on Mallorca where lots of celebrities have houses, but where we stayed it was just a strip of cheap restaurants, bars, and souvenir shops along a decent beach. Kelli really liked having another beach stop though, and I have to admit it was nice to have a little downtime from our hectic schedule before jumping into the last leg of the trip. Plus, we got to do laundry—everything in our bags was beginning to smell, and it was nice to have clean clothes halfway through.
The way the part of the island where we were staying was set up was in the shape of a tiny little peninsula, only we didn’t realize it. Our second day Kelli and I walked along the water, assuming we were heading in pretty much a straight line down the coast when in reality we were following the coast back to where we started. After walking for half an hour, we found the coolest part of Mallorca. There was bar after bar packed in, each with a cheaper drink deal than the last, and a much nicer beach full of people our own age (whereas the beach by us was mostly families and old people). We thought it was the best thing ever and really wanted to return that night, if only we weren’t so far away….While walking, we saw a sign for Prince William’s Pub, 200 meters. We thought that was so funny, since they had one right by our hotel, and decided to see if it was owned by the same people. We started walking down the street indicated, and noticed another restaurant that was also by our hotel, and another…and then we saw our hotel! It was the most mind-boggling, disorienting, semi-frightening thing to ever happen; we thought we had walked really far away, when in reality we just made a huge loop. It took a while to really believe it, but finally we accepted that, like idiots, the super awesome part of town was a two minute walk behind us. We felt like we were in some bizarre episode of the twilight zone, where two girls think they’re on a simple vacation when in reality they’re on an island that shifts and changes and grows smaller until they’re slowly driven insane…The funny thing is that it happened again later, but on a smaller scale—we thought we were headed in one direction when in reality we just wound up by our hotel again.
We spent almost three whole days in Mallorca, and I was ready to go by the end and get back to the real Spain. It’s a little disappointing that we spent so much time there and so little in Rome or Barcelona, but it was a nice vacation from our vacation. The staff at the hotel was amazing and we really had the best possible time, even if we didn’t get as much sun as we had hoped. But not to worry, we left Mallorca for Sevilla, my absolute favorite place of all that I visited—more on that next post!
A couple pictures of Mallorca (or Majorca, if you spell it Catalun): http://www.flickr.com/photos/rachelgoesgreek/sets/72157626613077138/
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