Palma and Beyond

From the lively heart of the city, to the Northern coast of Alcudia and the quaint village of Deia, here's a delicious sampling of my first week on the island.

Within 24 hours of arriving in the city of Palma I was eating Tapas and gazing off into the expansive deep blue water of the mediterranean. If I pinched myself every time I marveled at the beauty of this island then I would end up in the hospital.

Upon landing in my new home jet lag melted away as the golden cobblestone streets of old town Palma, known as "el casco antiguo" in Spanish, beckoned to be explored.

Golden light streamed through the corridors of old town illuminating the medieval streets. Panederias and Tapas bars sit in the shadow of the gothic Roman Catholic Cathedral that looms over the city peppered with palm trees.

Shades of faded orange, rustic red, and soft yellows paint the city and contrast the intense turquoise of the sea.

Mega yachts and sailboats with Spanish names and a myriad of international flags dot the water.

After an informal introduction with Palma, Day 2 came along with an hour bus ride up to the North of the island to meet teachers from my school and see my new place of work.

Paella on a cliffside in Can Picafort at a locals only restaurant, Mar y Paz (sea and peace), felt like something out of a movie. Fresh prawns, saffron studded rice, and crab blended together in this traditional Spanish dish.

After a brief rainstorm the sun broke through the clouds and revealed the most magical rainbow as we drove into the port town of Alcudia. I found the pot of gold at the end of it too, a secluded beach with a view of the mountains.

To say I felt lucky would be an understatement.

The next morning the sun rose over the sea in Palma to greet us for market day. We loaded our mochillas (backpacks) with fresh fruit, packed our bikinis and saddled up to hit the beach of Ses Illetes.

Past the city limits cliffs of pine trees descend into a shore of white sand and water that looks like it’s out of an Aqua de Gio ad.

We enjoyed wine paired with apricots, nectarines and figs as we splashed and played in a world entirely of our own. The day ended sitting on the rocks and staring out into the horizon as the sun dipped gently behind the mountain and left the sky in hushed shades of lilac.

As our courage grew on public transport we took the blue line 202 bus deep into the Serra de Tramuntana mountain range. All eyes stayed fixed on the road as we whipped around the hairpin turns and hugged the coastline.

Nausea was a small price to pay when we reached the mountainous village of Deia, a hidden gem tucked away deep in the Tramuntana.

Disco music reverberated through the town from some distant villa as we meandered through the steep streets.

Bougainvillia wound tight around white and blue tiles and clung to terra cotta roofs in bright hues of fuschia.

Around every turn nature offered some sort of bounty, like these sweet figs.

A handpainted sign advertised fresh orange juice and marmalade being sold by a local woman. A refreshing beverage before our hike down to Cala Deia, the rocky beach below.

The early evening sun beat down on the rocks and the waves dared us to swim as they lapped at the shore. I did not test their strength and instead opted to have a Spanish omelette.

A hike back up and we were on the bus back to Palma in no time.

Day by day, color by color, and taste by taste the island is revealing itself.

Hasta lluego for now.