Spring in Spain: Crawling up Mallorca; Pushing Through Toledo
Apr 9th, 2015, 03:53 AM
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Spring in Spain: Crawling up Mallorca; Pushing Through Toledo
My husband and I decided to “break in” our new son-in-law by inviting him and our oldest daughter to spend a week cycling with us on <b>Mallorca</b>. My other trip goals were to take a peek at <b>Valencia</b> on the way and spend the very end of <b>Semana Santa (Holy Week)</b> in <b>Toledo</b>.
Because I am always willing to sell my soul to snag Business Class seat upgrades when crossing oceans, our exact dates of travel were dictated by both feasible upgrades and by time constraints placed by my husband’s job. So on a Wednesday, we flew from the US to Madrid on USAirways and immediately left Madrid to fly Valencia via Iberia Express. The Business Class upgrade on USAirways was worth it, even if we did have to fly through the airport I hate most in the world, Philadelphia. Note: I like Philadelphia; I just hate the airport.
The Business Class on the Iberia Express is NOT worth it. For future reference, the seats are cramped and saggy, and only the very front rows of the plane have leg room. I really don’t need bad snacks for less than an hour flight. The designation did allow us to check two pieces of luggage each, though. Because I have to bring my on biking seat and heavy gel cover, and because the weather in the upcoming days was to be so iffy, my light packing style got totally out of whack. Thus we had a roll-on and a convertible suitcase/backpack each, and I admit it was nice not to have to lug anything but our storable light daypacks for the layover.
In between flights, we bought SIM cards for 5 Euros each for our cheapie Nokia GSM phones. As always, we would only use our “real” phones with any free WiFi, and we’d use the cheapies mainly for SMS while cycling. We also quickly emailed our new numbers to all the relatives back home for an additional emergency contact.
In <b>Valencia</b>, we had booked into the <b>Vincci Lys</b> (Valencia Carrer de Martínez Cubells, 5, 46002 València, Valencia, Spain +34 96 350 95 50 vinccihoteles.com ) which is just a spit from the Xativa Metro stop, so I had planned to use the Metro (had downloaded the app on my phone to be at the ready), but our energy was flagging, and we just snagged a taxi (20 Euros) into town.
The hotel was really dated but also very central and very clean. The people at the front desk were very nice. We had booked a high floor room with terrace just for a bit more room. We knew we had to reorganize our packing a bit more and the extra room to spread out was welcome. After a bit of reorganization, we headed out to explore the streets around us and to have a few beers. Sleep beckoned, and we obeyed its command. Nappy time.
At around 8 pm, which is the Spanish "tourist time" to start eating, we headed towards the Cathedral area in search of a restaurant. I had tried to book us at <b>Mood Food</b> before we left home, but I had never heard back. We tried to find it anyway, got lost several times, and finally found it with a "Closed" sign. We still don't know what happened because other diners were there a few days later.
The weather was crisp but dry, so we spent quite a bit of time meandering. We settled on a place whose name I never found out just because it looked atmospheric from the outside. We were led upstairs and given a table near the kitchen. To our surprise, it was quiet! Somehow the kitchen managed to push food out without chaotic sounds. Since the place was known for its Catalonian beef, we bowed to the waiter’s suggestions and ordered steak and salad. Well, meat just isn’t us. But the recommended bottle of red wine was great, and we finished the meal with a good port and an excellent Spanish cheese selection. If I ever find out the name of this place, I'll report back.
Walking back to the hotel, we both noticed how clean the center city was, in spite of an obviously large and diverse population. We were impressed.
The next morning, we were also impressed with our hotel breakfast, included with our booking. It had two automatic coffee machines—the kind we like that offer everything from fresh ground expresso to cappuccino—and we laughed when we saw that one of the choices on the machines was your language. I love it when vegetables are offered with breakfast, and my husband shoveled in massive amounts of melon and salmon.
We had booked a later afternoon flight to Mallorca to give us the maximum daylight hours in which to experience Valencia, so we showered and changed, packed our stuff up, deposited the luggage at the desk, and headed off to explore the historic center in the bright, not-too-hot weather.
Our first stop was the <b>Mercado Centrale</b>. My sister loves markets, I am “meh” on them, but I had told my husband over breakfast that several British travel writers tended to remark that one strangely “finds” Americans at the Mercado. “I guess we have to report to duty”, he said.
We did—and they were right: we encountered the ONLY Americans we saw for the rest of the day. The Mercado is truly impressive because the building itself is so gorgeous and the crowds were not overwhelming at all.
We headed to the Plaza de la Reina to the <b>Basilica of the Assumption of Our Lady of Valencia</b>, the home of the Holy Grail, or rather one of the candidates for the position. The cathedral was built between 1252 and 1482 on the site of an earlier mosque, a former Visigothic Cathedral and perhaps even a Roman temple of Diana. It has ended up being a stylistic hybrid Gothic, Baroque and Neo-Classical architecture.
Its octagonal bell-tower El Micalet is the landmark of Valencia. You can climb the stairs to the top to enjoy the views of Valencia's old town, but we passed on the opportunity. We did take advantage of the audiotour, mainly because I did not want to miss finding the two Goya paintings.
Of course, no good cathedral should be without a relic or two, and this one has the mummified hand of Saint Vincent the Martyr. The chapel of the Holy Grail was very impressive too.
Leaving the cathedral, we debated touring nearby art museums or taking a taxi out to the <b>City of Arts and Sciences</b> (in Valencian: Ciutat de les Arts i les Ciències). The property is regarded as one of the top contemporary architectural wonders of Europe. Unfortunately, we just had little “uppy” left in us, so we took advantage of the gorgeous weather and explored the diverted river bed that rings the historic center. When the city flooded in 1950, the city fathers solved future problems by diverting the entire river. They lost the scenic parts of water reflection, but they gained an enormous ring of space for parkland. It works.
We returned to the Mercado hoping to score a plate of take-out paella, but our timing was off: the last bits of the gorgeous offerings in our favorite kiosk were being taken by proactive students. We stepped outside to get a table at a nearby café (not worth mentioning!), drowned a few beers and bites, and returned to our hotel for our luggage.
We again considered taking the Metro to the Valencia airport, but my husband said he was really willing to fork over the extra for the 20 Euro cab ride (it ended up being a bit more). We had a lovely cab driver who was so pleased that we found Valencia to be so very clean, active, and pretty. We told him that two of our guidebooks had no sections on Valencia, and that we think it had to be one of the most underrated cities we have ever visited.
We shall return.
Next: <b> Palma de Mallorca</b>
Because I am always willing to sell my soul to snag Business Class seat upgrades when crossing oceans, our exact dates of travel were dictated by both feasible upgrades and by time constraints placed by my husband’s job. So on a Wednesday, we flew from the US to Madrid on USAirways and immediately left Madrid to fly Valencia via Iberia Express. The Business Class upgrade on USAirways was worth it, even if we did have to fly through the airport I hate most in the world, Philadelphia. Note: I like Philadelphia; I just hate the airport.
The Business Class on the Iberia Express is NOT worth it. For future reference, the seats are cramped and saggy, and only the very front rows of the plane have leg room. I really don’t need bad snacks for less than an hour flight. The designation did allow us to check two pieces of luggage each, though. Because I have to bring my on biking seat and heavy gel cover, and because the weather in the upcoming days was to be so iffy, my light packing style got totally out of whack. Thus we had a roll-on and a convertible suitcase/backpack each, and I admit it was nice not to have to lug anything but our storable light daypacks for the layover.
In between flights, we bought SIM cards for 5 Euros each for our cheapie Nokia GSM phones. As always, we would only use our “real” phones with any free WiFi, and we’d use the cheapies mainly for SMS while cycling. We also quickly emailed our new numbers to all the relatives back home for an additional emergency contact.
In <b>Valencia</b>, we had booked into the <b>Vincci Lys</b> (Valencia Carrer de Martínez Cubells, 5, 46002 València, Valencia, Spain +34 96 350 95 50 vinccihoteles.com ) which is just a spit from the Xativa Metro stop, so I had planned to use the Metro (had downloaded the app on my phone to be at the ready), but our energy was flagging, and we just snagged a taxi (20 Euros) into town.
The hotel was really dated but also very central and very clean. The people at the front desk were very nice. We had booked a high floor room with terrace just for a bit more room. We knew we had to reorganize our packing a bit more and the extra room to spread out was welcome. After a bit of reorganization, we headed out to explore the streets around us and to have a few beers. Sleep beckoned, and we obeyed its command. Nappy time.
At around 8 pm, which is the Spanish "tourist time" to start eating, we headed towards the Cathedral area in search of a restaurant. I had tried to book us at <b>Mood Food</b> before we left home, but I had never heard back. We tried to find it anyway, got lost several times, and finally found it with a "Closed" sign. We still don't know what happened because other diners were there a few days later.
The weather was crisp but dry, so we spent quite a bit of time meandering. We settled on a place whose name I never found out just because it looked atmospheric from the outside. We were led upstairs and given a table near the kitchen. To our surprise, it was quiet! Somehow the kitchen managed to push food out without chaotic sounds. Since the place was known for its Catalonian beef, we bowed to the waiter’s suggestions and ordered steak and salad. Well, meat just isn’t us. But the recommended bottle of red wine was great, and we finished the meal with a good port and an excellent Spanish cheese selection. If I ever find out the name of this place, I'll report back.
Walking back to the hotel, we both noticed how clean the center city was, in spite of an obviously large and diverse population. We were impressed.
The next morning, we were also impressed with our hotel breakfast, included with our booking. It had two automatic coffee machines—the kind we like that offer everything from fresh ground expresso to cappuccino—and we laughed when we saw that one of the choices on the machines was your language. I love it when vegetables are offered with breakfast, and my husband shoveled in massive amounts of melon and salmon.
We had booked a later afternoon flight to Mallorca to give us the maximum daylight hours in which to experience Valencia, so we showered and changed, packed our stuff up, deposited the luggage at the desk, and headed off to explore the historic center in the bright, not-too-hot weather.
Our first stop was the <b>Mercado Centrale</b>. My sister loves markets, I am “meh” on them, but I had told my husband over breakfast that several British travel writers tended to remark that one strangely “finds” Americans at the Mercado. “I guess we have to report to duty”, he said.
We did—and they were right: we encountered the ONLY Americans we saw for the rest of the day. The Mercado is truly impressive because the building itself is so gorgeous and the crowds were not overwhelming at all.
We headed to the Plaza de la Reina to the <b>Basilica of the Assumption of Our Lady of Valencia</b>, the home of the Holy Grail, or rather one of the candidates for the position. The cathedral was built between 1252 and 1482 on the site of an earlier mosque, a former Visigothic Cathedral and perhaps even a Roman temple of Diana. It has ended up being a stylistic hybrid Gothic, Baroque and Neo-Classical architecture.
Its octagonal bell-tower El Micalet is the landmark of Valencia. You can climb the stairs to the top to enjoy the views of Valencia's old town, but we passed on the opportunity. We did take advantage of the audiotour, mainly because I did not want to miss finding the two Goya paintings.
Of course, no good cathedral should be without a relic or two, and this one has the mummified hand of Saint Vincent the Martyr. The chapel of the Holy Grail was very impressive too.
Leaving the cathedral, we debated touring nearby art museums or taking a taxi out to the <b>City of Arts and Sciences</b> (in Valencian: Ciutat de les Arts i les Ciències). The property is regarded as one of the top contemporary architectural wonders of Europe. Unfortunately, we just had little “uppy” left in us, so we took advantage of the gorgeous weather and explored the diverted river bed that rings the historic center. When the city flooded in 1950, the city fathers solved future problems by diverting the entire river. They lost the scenic parts of water reflection, but they gained an enormous ring of space for parkland. It works.
We returned to the Mercado hoping to score a plate of take-out paella, but our timing was off: the last bits of the gorgeous offerings in our favorite kiosk were being taken by proactive students. We stepped outside to get a table at a nearby café (not worth mentioning!), drowned a few beers and bites, and returned to our hotel for our luggage.
We again considered taking the Metro to the Valencia airport, but my husband said he was really willing to fork over the extra for the 20 Euro cab ride (it ended up being a bit more). We had a lovely cab driver who was so pleased that we found Valencia to be so very clean, active, and pretty. We told him that two of our guidebooks had no sections on Valencia, and that we think it had to be one of the most underrated cities we have ever visited.
We shall return.
Next: <b> Palma de Mallorca</b>
Apr 9th, 2015, 09:23 AM
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<b><i>Warning: This part of the post includes mainly equipment details useful only to travel equipment junkies. If not interested, just skip to the next installment, which will include our two nights/one day in Palma.</i></b>
We flew from Valencia to Palma de Mallorca via Veuling, mainly because the flight time offered us the best amount of daylight time in Valencia.
Veuling offers three fare classes to Mallorca: Basic, Optima and Excellence. The difference between Basic and Optima is about 15 Euros; the difference between Excellence and Optima is close to 400 Euros. Optima, which allowed one to a) check one bag up to 50 pounds (I have never in my life approached even 30 lbs in a suitcase) and b) choose one’s seats, seemed like a steal. I emphasize "seemed" until I later verified the hand baggage restrictions: <i>55cm x 44cm x 20cm (21.65 inches x 15.75 inches x 7.87 inches</i
AND must not exceed 10 kg (22 lbs).
I could handle the hand-luggage weight restriction rather easily. A lot of my stuff could go into our roll-ons once we put the expansion zippers out, and our backpack/suitcase was about 21 inches by 15 inches, so that part was good. The problem was that since our GO Lite backpack/suitcase (http://www.ebags.com/product/golite/...gs-and-reviews NOW DISCONTINUED) is SO soft-sided, it could puddle and expand.
My solution?
Two-fold:
--My <b>Big Pockets Vest</b> http://www.bigpockets.com/ (I am a bird watcher; these vests are my life)
--<b>a FINEX Heavy Duty Cross Luggage Strap Travel Belt</b> http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00...?ie=UTF8&psc=1
The first solution meant that I could walk onto the plane with all my necessary items without using my foldable daypack (although even my Baggelini PATH Bagg Crossbody Shoulder Bag Purse—discontinued---could fit in one of the pockets).
The second solution minimized the bag expansion.
It turned out that I needed neither.
The check-in agent took one look at our backpack/suitcase combos and said, “Why don’t you just check these things? We are going to have you gate-check these carry-ons anyway, so it’s less hassle to do it now. No charge.” Yeah!!!
I packed up my Big Pockets Vest, pulled out my daypack, repacked, and we were good to chill until boarding.
The flight was another cramped seating. My husband was fine because he had an aisle seat with no middle person. I was pushed against two really LARGE persons. After take-off, I jumped from my aisle seat in row 3 to one of the 2nd row Excellence seats (no bigger) and fell asleep on purpose so that as long as I didn’t look as though I was expecting service, they’d leave me be. They did.
We landed in PMI rather quickly. We had no problem locating our luggage; however, our daughter and son-in-law would have one later because <b>if your luggage is checked through internationally, there is a different pick-up area. Make a note of it!!!</b>.
We jumped into a taxi and headed to our hotel.
<b>Next: Our two nights and one full day in Palma</b>
We flew from Valencia to Palma de Mallorca via Veuling, mainly because the flight time offered us the best amount of daylight time in Valencia.
Veuling offers three fare classes to Mallorca: Basic, Optima and Excellence. The difference between Basic and Optima is about 15 Euros; the difference between Excellence and Optima is close to 400 Euros. Optima, which allowed one to a) check one bag up to 50 pounds (I have never in my life approached even 30 lbs in a suitcase) and b) choose one’s seats, seemed like a steal. I emphasize "seemed" until I later verified the hand baggage restrictions: <i>55cm x 44cm x 20cm (21.65 inches x 15.75 inches x 7.87 inches</i
AND must not exceed 10 kg (22 lbs). I could handle the hand-luggage weight restriction rather easily. A lot of my stuff could go into our roll-ons once we put the expansion zippers out, and our backpack/suitcase was about 21 inches by 15 inches, so that part was good. The problem was that since our GO Lite backpack/suitcase (http://www.ebags.com/product/golite/...gs-and-reviews NOW DISCONTINUED) is SO soft-sided, it could puddle and expand.
My solution?
Two-fold:
--My <b>Big Pockets Vest</b> http://www.bigpockets.com/ (I am a bird watcher; these vests are my life)
--<b>a FINEX Heavy Duty Cross Luggage Strap Travel Belt</b> http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00...?ie=UTF8&psc=1
The first solution meant that I could walk onto the plane with all my necessary items without using my foldable daypack (although even my Baggelini PATH Bagg Crossbody Shoulder Bag Purse—discontinued---could fit in one of the pockets).
The second solution minimized the bag expansion.
It turned out that I needed neither.
The check-in agent took one look at our backpack/suitcase combos and said, “Why don’t you just check these things? We are going to have you gate-check these carry-ons anyway, so it’s less hassle to do it now. No charge.” Yeah!!!
I packed up my Big Pockets Vest, pulled out my daypack, repacked, and we were good to chill until boarding.
The flight was another cramped seating. My husband was fine because he had an aisle seat with no middle person. I was pushed against two really LARGE persons. After take-off, I jumped from my aisle seat in row 3 to one of the 2nd row Excellence seats (no bigger) and fell asleep on purpose so that as long as I didn’t look as though I was expecting service, they’d leave me be. They did.
We landed in PMI rather quickly. We had no problem locating our luggage; however, our daughter and son-in-law would have one later because <b>if your luggage is checked through internationally, there is a different pick-up area. Make a note of it!!!</b>.
We jumped into a taxi and headed to our hotel.
<b>Next: Our two nights and one full day in Palma</b>
Apr 9th, 2015, 09:35 AM
#5
Nice start. We really liked Valencia when we did a 4 night short break there last year. at lunchtimes we took advantage of the great menu del dia offers [typically €10 for 3 courses] and in the evenings we tapased our way round the town - that's a great way to get to know a place
our one and only visit to Mallorca was with our kids on a package holiday about 20 years ago so I'm looking forward to your take on it.
keep it coming!
our one and only visit to Mallorca was with our kids on a package holiday about 20 years ago so I'm looking forward to your take on it.
keep it coming!
Apr 10th, 2015, 02:21 AM
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Thanks, annhig. I think in our minds, we were automatically viewing Mallorca as another version of the Canary Islands (expats galore), and we were pleasantly surprised by it. I shall try to get at least another post up today.
Apr 10th, 2015, 06:25 AM
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<b>Two nights/one day in Palma</b>
My husband, Mr. Objective Finance, I-Grade-Only-On-Performance, showed his true colors once again. He always overtips when he is worried about his taxi driver’s health (I am more of the mind that it’s time to put the dog down). Five more minutes with our cab driver and I think he would have funded the guy's kids college tuition.
The traffic was a bit bad leaving the airport on this early Friday evening, and the driver took it personally. I mean REALLY PERSONALLY. Road rage be him. So we were riding on berms, back streets, you name it. As the driver was swearing in Spanish, my husband was pulling at his chest, which he does when he is stressed out. I was prepared to perform CPR on the both of them.
The fact is that our hotel was just NOT that far away, and we for sure were in no rush. We were staying at the <b>Portixol Hotel</b>, Palma de Mallorca www.portixol.com +34 971 27 18 00, a very nice hotel situated on a mini-harbor not far from the historical center.
Our check-in went smoothly. Still a bit jet-lagged, we unpacked into our sea-view room with terrace. Going downstairs, we bellied up to the bar, which seemed to be full of expat locals. We checked out the restaurant and what the heck, we thought we’d give it a go.
The food was good. Our sashimi was superb, and I was so happy to be eating Padron peppers again. The problem was that the place did not have enough servers in place yet for the spring/summer season. Furthermore, although our food seemed OK, over my shoulder, my husband spotted cockroaches running across the table next to us. Apparently, the aghast diners sent all their food back and just kept drinking wine for the rest of the evening. My husband kept his mouth shut until after I had finished my last bite. He pointed to the molding/ledge beneath the windows. There were crumbs on them. Hmm.
I never saw a cockroach myself in the restaurant that night, the next night or at any other time; my chance came later once we went to bed. The beds were comfy; our room was again very well appointed. I got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom to find that the shower floor was a cockroach racetrack.
Both my husband and I used to visit Florida a lot when we were kids, so we’re not scared of these bugs and do understand we are in THEIR environment. We know from past experience that we’d rather suffer non-biting insects any day than suffer the body shock of chemical applications. We only had one more night and I’d rather do it without inhaling bug spray. We’d let the next guest die of environmental poisoning.
I went back to bed and slept just fine. However, I did make my husband take the first shower in the morning.
Breakfast at the hotel, included in our booking, just was not that great considering the type of hotel. We had been spoiled by the Vincci Lys in Valencia. There was a good variety on hand, but the yogurt was room temperature, etc. No “choose your language” coffee machine (sniff, sniff). Eggs by order were WAYYYY overcooked. Plus we admittedly did find ourselves on cockroach alert.
The window ledges had been cleared of crumbs we were relieved to note.
We headed out for a walk around the harbor, trying our best to dodge endless bicycles, dog walkers, and strollers on this pleasant spring day. We first found our restaurant for the upcoming night, mere meters from the hotel. Then we walked into the Old Town in search of the <b>Cathedral of Santa Maria of Palma</b> (often referred to by the locals as “La Seu”). We could see it in the distance, but once we approached it, the spires became hidden from view and we could not navigate to it by sight. My husband talked me into an early right to get to the historical center instead of continuing down along the water line for a bit more until the cathedral came into sight again.
I must say that my husband and I are still, nearly 36 years after our wedding vows, fighting the same arguments. For some reason I trust his judgment about directions because he is SO good at SO many things.
He just does not have a clue about how to get from A-Z.
Anyway, after much trial and error (and my seeking my MapsWithMe app in every spot of shade), we ended up near the cathedral.
<i>Ok. Full disclosure. It was my fault that we entered the nearby <b>Royal Palace of La Almudaina</b>, which is the Alcázar (fortified palace) of Palma, instead of the cathedral. So I guess we were even for the day on the “who is the most wrong” lifetime score tally.</i>
The history of this Catalonian Gothic cathedral is tied with the Christian takeover of the island by the Aragon dynasty (which is why even today, Mallorca and other Balearic islands identify themselves more with Catalonia that with the rest of Spain). The foundation stone was laid on the site of the central mosque, so the building itself is oriented towards Mecca, not Jerusalem. It took 400 more years to finish the cathedral, and in 1851, more work had to be done when an earthquake hit the West front. In the 1900s, Antoni Gaudi, Mr. Catalan himself, added a few touches.
This is a BEAUTIFUL place with a sense of openness (supposedly the nave is the highest of all Gothic cathedrals). We used the audiotours, and I found myself photographing everything like mad.
For those of you unfamiliar with Mallorca or Majorca (meaning "largest") and the rest of the Balearic Islands, Mallorca is the largest island in the Balearic Islands archipelago off the east coast of Spain. Like the other Balearic Islands of Minorca, Ibiza and Formentera, the island is both a holiday and retirement destination, particularly for people from Germany, the UK, Ireland, Poland, the Netherlands, and Scandinavia. It’s so popular that the Palma airport is one of the busiest in Spain.
The locals speak “Mallorcan",which is their version of Catalan, and Spanish.
Just as we were finishing up, our daughter called us on our Spain mobiles to alert us that she and her husband were at the hotel. And they were so very happy about their room that we never shared our cockroach stories. We headed back, had a beer on their terrace and then strolled around the corner to a local bar.
On our return, we had the help of an absolutely delightful hotel desk clerk in making our taxi arrangements for the next day.
A few hours later, we headed to our restaurant reserved through www. TheFork.com, <b> El Hoyo 10</b> ( C/Bartomeu Barceló i Mir,11 07003 Palma de Mallorca +34 971278650)
The reviews online were right in the sense that the place was more for locals than it was for tourists. And the owner, who is supposed to be unfriendly, really took to my husband and son-in-law, so that was good. But the food was very weak. Our paella, while large enough, was undercooked, over oiled, and lacking in the “good stuff.” Nevertheless, we were just happy to be together, the place was homey, and it certainly was close enough to the hotel.
After dinner, we headed straight back. I whispered goodnight to the shower floor just in case the cockroaches were listening.
<b>Next: We join our cycling group at the Intermodal Station in Mallorca</b>
My husband, Mr. Objective Finance, I-Grade-Only-On-Performance, showed his true colors once again. He always overtips when he is worried about his taxi driver’s health (I am more of the mind that it’s time to put the dog down). Five more minutes with our cab driver and I think he would have funded the guy's kids college tuition.
The traffic was a bit bad leaving the airport on this early Friday evening, and the driver took it personally. I mean REALLY PERSONALLY. Road rage be him. So we were riding on berms, back streets, you name it. As the driver was swearing in Spanish, my husband was pulling at his chest, which he does when he is stressed out. I was prepared to perform CPR on the both of them.
The fact is that our hotel was just NOT that far away, and we for sure were in no rush. We were staying at the <b>Portixol Hotel</b>, Palma de Mallorca www.portixol.com +34 971 27 18 00, a very nice hotel situated on a mini-harbor not far from the historical center.
Our check-in went smoothly. Still a bit jet-lagged, we unpacked into our sea-view room with terrace. Going downstairs, we bellied up to the bar, which seemed to be full of expat locals. We checked out the restaurant and what the heck, we thought we’d give it a go.
The food was good. Our sashimi was superb, and I was so happy to be eating Padron peppers again. The problem was that the place did not have enough servers in place yet for the spring/summer season. Furthermore, although our food seemed OK, over my shoulder, my husband spotted cockroaches running across the table next to us. Apparently, the aghast diners sent all their food back and just kept drinking wine for the rest of the evening. My husband kept his mouth shut until after I had finished my last bite. He pointed to the molding/ledge beneath the windows. There were crumbs on them. Hmm.
I never saw a cockroach myself in the restaurant that night, the next night or at any other time; my chance came later once we went to bed. The beds were comfy; our room was again very well appointed. I got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom to find that the shower floor was a cockroach racetrack.
Both my husband and I used to visit Florida a lot when we were kids, so we’re not scared of these bugs and do understand we are in THEIR environment. We know from past experience that we’d rather suffer non-biting insects any day than suffer the body shock of chemical applications. We only had one more night and I’d rather do it without inhaling bug spray. We’d let the next guest die of environmental poisoning.
I went back to bed and slept just fine. However, I did make my husband take the first shower in the morning.
Breakfast at the hotel, included in our booking, just was not that great considering the type of hotel. We had been spoiled by the Vincci Lys in Valencia. There was a good variety on hand, but the yogurt was room temperature, etc. No “choose your language” coffee machine (sniff, sniff). Eggs by order were WAYYYY overcooked. Plus we admittedly did find ourselves on cockroach alert.
The window ledges had been cleared of crumbs we were relieved to note.
We headed out for a walk around the harbor, trying our best to dodge endless bicycles, dog walkers, and strollers on this pleasant spring day. We first found our restaurant for the upcoming night, mere meters from the hotel. Then we walked into the Old Town in search of the <b>Cathedral of Santa Maria of Palma</b> (often referred to by the locals as “La Seu”). We could see it in the distance, but once we approached it, the spires became hidden from view and we could not navigate to it by sight. My husband talked me into an early right to get to the historical center instead of continuing down along the water line for a bit more until the cathedral came into sight again.
I must say that my husband and I are still, nearly 36 years after our wedding vows, fighting the same arguments. For some reason I trust his judgment about directions because he is SO good at SO many things.
He just does not have a clue about how to get from A-Z.
Anyway, after much trial and error (and my seeking my MapsWithMe app in every spot of shade), we ended up near the cathedral.
<i>Ok. Full disclosure. It was my fault that we entered the nearby <b>Royal Palace of La Almudaina</b>, which is the Alcázar (fortified palace) of Palma, instead of the cathedral. So I guess we were even for the day on the “who is the most wrong” lifetime score tally.</i>
The history of this Catalonian Gothic cathedral is tied with the Christian takeover of the island by the Aragon dynasty (which is why even today, Mallorca and other Balearic islands identify themselves more with Catalonia that with the rest of Spain). The foundation stone was laid on the site of the central mosque, so the building itself is oriented towards Mecca, not Jerusalem. It took 400 more years to finish the cathedral, and in 1851, more work had to be done when an earthquake hit the West front. In the 1900s, Antoni Gaudi, Mr. Catalan himself, added a few touches.
This is a BEAUTIFUL place with a sense of openness (supposedly the nave is the highest of all Gothic cathedrals). We used the audiotours, and I found myself photographing everything like mad.
For those of you unfamiliar with Mallorca or Majorca (meaning "largest") and the rest of the Balearic Islands, Mallorca is the largest island in the Balearic Islands archipelago off the east coast of Spain. Like the other Balearic Islands of Minorca, Ibiza and Formentera, the island is both a holiday and retirement destination, particularly for people from Germany, the UK, Ireland, Poland, the Netherlands, and Scandinavia. It’s so popular that the Palma airport is one of the busiest in Spain.
The locals speak “Mallorcan",which is their version of Catalan, and Spanish.
Just as we were finishing up, our daughter called us on our Spain mobiles to alert us that she and her husband were at the hotel. And they were so very happy about their room that we never shared our cockroach stories. We headed back, had a beer on their terrace and then strolled around the corner to a local bar.
On our return, we had the help of an absolutely delightful hotel desk clerk in making our taxi arrangements for the next day.
A few hours later, we headed to our restaurant reserved through www. TheFork.com, <b> El Hoyo 10</b> ( C/Bartomeu Barceló i Mir,11 07003 Palma de Mallorca +34 971278650)
The reviews online were right in the sense that the place was more for locals than it was for tourists. And the owner, who is supposed to be unfriendly, really took to my husband and son-in-law, so that was good. But the food was very weak. Our paella, while large enough, was undercooked, over oiled, and lacking in the “good stuff.” Nevertheless, we were just happy to be together, the place was homey, and it certainly was close enough to the hotel.
After dinner, we headed straight back. I whispered goodnight to the shower floor just in case the cockroaches were listening.
<b>Next: We join our cycling group at the Intermodal Station in Mallorca</b>
Apr 11th, 2015, 05:26 AM
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<b>Beginning my biking crawl throughout Mallorca</b>
The next morning, we taxied to our cycling group meeting point at the Intermodal Station at the Plaça Espanya. We have cycled with many companies, but this time it was our general favorite: Backroads.
<i>For your information:
Most guided cycling outfits have the same routine. They provide the bikes and helmets and routing information; they have two or more leaders who switch off cycling with you and driving the van; and they use one or more support vans so that some people can opt out of stretches of the day if need be.
The company takes care of hauling your luggage around; you are in charge of hauling yourself around.
On most days, you can choose rides varying from 20 miles to 60 miles (and on some trips, centuries are certainly possible).
We have now done around 23 or 24 guided cycling trips; 16 of those have been with Backroads, probably because they have more types of trips in all the places we want to go at the times of year we want to go. Plus the quality of the training for their guides is very, very high.
But we have traveled with other operators quite successfully, and I certainly encourage people to find tours that fit their personal needs and finances.
<b>Resources:</b>
--For my l-o-n-g post on this forum regarding cycling tours: http://www.fodors.com/community/trav...neral-tips.cfm
--For Backroad’s description of this exact Mallorca trip: http://www.backroads.com/trips/BMAI/...ca-biking-tour and to request a more detailed itinerary from them: http://www.backroads.com/detailed_it...ew?trip_id=849
And from here on in, my descriptions of my daily rides and the rides of others in our group of 21 will be limited by the fact that each person on the trip gets to take his/her own route each day. What my husband cycles and I cycle is totally up to our choosing. Within just our family, we each had a different experience each day. Given the abilities of several monster cyclists on the trip, my experience and theirs would vary as much as describing putting around in a little rowboat as opposed to sailing a yacht.
But I can certainly share that while I am on “injured reserved” and while I cycled only around 20 miles on average a day, I was blissfully happy to be there. Others cycled over 50 miles each day and were equally blissfully happy. </i>
<b>Starting the trip</b>
On this first day we all piled into a touring bus to be shuttled to a small hotel in Algaida where we had our bike fitting and lunch. Most people brought their own pedals; I just brought my own seat and my own gel pad (the kind with a BIG dent in the center).
After lunch, we headed out on a PERFECT ride with wonderful biking paths. Our route took us through the town of Llucmajor, and I was so delighted to see a little festival on the square. Some people chose to do a nice climb for the 32-mile option; I choose to cycle at my leisure for the short route of 23 miles to our first hotel, Cap Rocat. ( Ctra. d'enderrocat, s/n 07609 Cala Blava, Mallorca (+34) 971 74 78 78 www.caprocat.com
Wow! The hotel was originally at 19th century Spanish military fort, hidden on a cliff. The architect Antonio Obrador translated the fort’s defensive aspects of a drawbridge, bunkers, and trenches into a world of unique bedrooms and viewpoints. Our room had a spiral staircase leading up to a canvas lounging bed overlooking the Bay of Palma.
Life was good.
Just in case you are thinking, “Gee, I’m going to book now,” not so fast.
Everyone on the group, while stunned by the sheer beauty of the place, later commented that a) their rooms were a bit musty (hey, just a few years ago, this place <u>was</u> just an abandoned fort with thick stone walls) and b) the bathrooms, while glorious, were so darkened with just mood lighting that no woman was sure if her makeup had been applied correctly. My husband missed a whole section of his chin while shaving.
So I am SO very happy I got to stay here for one night, but I will feel no need to fork over the $$$s necessary to come back.
Our first night’s dinner was quite good; our breakfast the next morning was nice (but as my husband says, not Vincci Lys in Valencia nice).
<b>Next: We (or rather, most others) cycle to Valldemossa</b>
The next morning, we taxied to our cycling group meeting point at the Intermodal Station at the Plaça Espanya. We have cycled with many companies, but this time it was our general favorite: Backroads.
<i>For your information:
Most guided cycling outfits have the same routine. They provide the bikes and helmets and routing information; they have two or more leaders who switch off cycling with you and driving the van; and they use one or more support vans so that some people can opt out of stretches of the day if need be.
The company takes care of hauling your luggage around; you are in charge of hauling yourself around.
On most days, you can choose rides varying from 20 miles to 60 miles (and on some trips, centuries are certainly possible).
We have now done around 23 or 24 guided cycling trips; 16 of those have been with Backroads, probably because they have more types of trips in all the places we want to go at the times of year we want to go. Plus the quality of the training for their guides is very, very high.
But we have traveled with other operators quite successfully, and I certainly encourage people to find tours that fit their personal needs and finances.
<b>Resources:</b>
--For my l-o-n-g post on this forum regarding cycling tours: http://www.fodors.com/community/trav...neral-tips.cfm
--For Backroad’s description of this exact Mallorca trip: http://www.backroads.com/trips/BMAI/...ca-biking-tour and to request a more detailed itinerary from them: http://www.backroads.com/detailed_it...ew?trip_id=849
And from here on in, my descriptions of my daily rides and the rides of others in our group of 21 will be limited by the fact that each person on the trip gets to take his/her own route each day. What my husband cycles and I cycle is totally up to our choosing. Within just our family, we each had a different experience each day. Given the abilities of several monster cyclists on the trip, my experience and theirs would vary as much as describing putting around in a little rowboat as opposed to sailing a yacht.
But I can certainly share that while I am on “injured reserved” and while I cycled only around 20 miles on average a day, I was blissfully happy to be there. Others cycled over 50 miles each day and were equally blissfully happy. </i>
<b>Starting the trip</b>
On this first day we all piled into a touring bus to be shuttled to a small hotel in Algaida where we had our bike fitting and lunch. Most people brought their own pedals; I just brought my own seat and my own gel pad (the kind with a BIG dent in the center).
After lunch, we headed out on a PERFECT ride with wonderful biking paths. Our route took us through the town of Llucmajor, and I was so delighted to see a little festival on the square. Some people chose to do a nice climb for the 32-mile option; I choose to cycle at my leisure for the short route of 23 miles to our first hotel, Cap Rocat. ( Ctra. d'enderrocat, s/n 07609 Cala Blava, Mallorca (+34) 971 74 78 78 www.caprocat.com
Wow! The hotel was originally at 19th century Spanish military fort, hidden on a cliff. The architect Antonio Obrador translated the fort’s defensive aspects of a drawbridge, bunkers, and trenches into a world of unique bedrooms and viewpoints. Our room had a spiral staircase leading up to a canvas lounging bed overlooking the Bay of Palma.
Life was good.
Just in case you are thinking, “Gee, I’m going to book now,” not so fast.
Everyone on the group, while stunned by the sheer beauty of the place, later commented that a) their rooms were a bit musty (hey, just a few years ago, this place <u>was</u> just an abandoned fort with thick stone walls) and b) the bathrooms, while glorious, were so darkened with just mood lighting that no woman was sure if her makeup had been applied correctly. My husband missed a whole section of his chin while shaving.
So I am SO very happy I got to stay here for one night, but I will feel no need to fork over the $$$s necessary to come back.
Our first night’s dinner was quite good; our breakfast the next morning was nice (but as my husband says, not Vincci Lys in Valencia nice).
<b>Next: We (or rather, most others) cycle to Valldemossa</b>
Apr 14th, 2015, 06:45 AM
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<b>Cycling to Valldemossa Part One</b>
Who was in our tour group? Were they competitive cyclists?
Well, many were competitive in nature, but I don’t think anyone in the group was part of a cycling team per se as was the case in our 2013 Canary Islands group.
Most of the folks in our group were really fit runners or cyclists over 40. Some came on the trip for “Spring Training”. Several were like my husband and me: we came on the trip just for a chance to see the sun after a Northeast US winter.
While this late March trip date may not have promised the best weather on Mallorca, and while the bad weather back home made getting in shape a hard proposition, our trip timing was, in retrospect, a brilliant idea.
One of the two excellent guides* who was the actual trip designer told us that within two weeks, he would have to re-route much of the trip for the rest of the season because of the sheer mass of cyclists on the road.
*<i>We had two guides and one support driver; the two guides switched off between driving and cycling and the driver would always drive.</i>
We got a taste of that on the first part of our ride, and for the days after, the dominant background noise would be “whoosh” as groups of cyclists, be they teams or clubs, whisked by us.
This same guide said that we were equally lucky in that island elections were coming up. The incumbent officials had of course fixed roads to please their constituents. We were getting prime surfaces for sure.
We left Cap Rocat to head for the foothills of the Tramuntana. As the cripple of the group, I was not doing too badly until I rounded a curve and ran into the thing I hate most:
Headwind.
I bailed early. I detest fighting mile after mile against wind, especially because I use upright handlebars with a bike box bag on the front. I just become a giant sail. Moreover, to take pressure off my bad knees, I crank up my bike seat as high as possible (my feet cannot touch the ground). Headwinds can put all the pressure back on.
As soon as I saw a support van, I asked to be “beamed up” and was quite happy with my decision. I had a great time helping the driver support the route, cozy in my shotgun seat. Plus I routinely pack my Kindle.
After lunch at a local inn, I stayed with the van,and we stopped along the way at a local cycling shop. I bought an appropriate item for my husband, given the weather: a wind vest.
The headwind soon turned into an "around wind". Eventually, both support vans were packed to the brim because even the fit people realized that the wind had knocked all the joy out of the day.
From my comfortable seat in the van, I could observe that day's routing was very much climbs were for climb’s sakes, rather than for views. I was pretty happy that the headwind had talked me out of my bike seat early.
Still I admired the people who completed every mile this day, cycling at least 55 miles and 4311 elevation game against a biting wind. And I’m also so happy that I no longer have the aching desire to join them.
<b>Next: Cycle to Valldemossa Part Two</b>
Who was in our tour group? Were they competitive cyclists?
Well, many were competitive in nature, but I don’t think anyone in the group was part of a cycling team per se as was the case in our 2013 Canary Islands group.
Most of the folks in our group were really fit runners or cyclists over 40. Some came on the trip for “Spring Training”. Several were like my husband and me: we came on the trip just for a chance to see the sun after a Northeast US winter.
While this late March trip date may not have promised the best weather on Mallorca, and while the bad weather back home made getting in shape a hard proposition, our trip timing was, in retrospect, a brilliant idea.
One of the two excellent guides* who was the actual trip designer told us that within two weeks, he would have to re-route much of the trip for the rest of the season because of the sheer mass of cyclists on the road.
*<i>We had two guides and one support driver; the two guides switched off between driving and cycling and the driver would always drive.</i>
We got a taste of that on the first part of our ride, and for the days after, the dominant background noise would be “whoosh” as groups of cyclists, be they teams or clubs, whisked by us.
This same guide said that we were equally lucky in that island elections were coming up. The incumbent officials had of course fixed roads to please their constituents. We were getting prime surfaces for sure.
We left Cap Rocat to head for the foothills of the Tramuntana. As the cripple of the group, I was not doing too badly until I rounded a curve and ran into the thing I hate most:
Headwind.
I bailed early. I detest fighting mile after mile against wind, especially because I use upright handlebars with a bike box bag on the front. I just become a giant sail. Moreover, to take pressure off my bad knees, I crank up my bike seat as high as possible (my feet cannot touch the ground). Headwinds can put all the pressure back on.
As soon as I saw a support van, I asked to be “beamed up” and was quite happy with my decision. I had a great time helping the driver support the route, cozy in my shotgun seat. Plus I routinely pack my Kindle.
After lunch at a local inn, I stayed with the van,and we stopped along the way at a local cycling shop. I bought an appropriate item for my husband, given the weather: a wind vest.
The headwind soon turned into an "around wind". Eventually, both support vans were packed to the brim because even the fit people realized that the wind had knocked all the joy out of the day.
From my comfortable seat in the van, I could observe that day's routing was very much climbs were for climb’s sakes, rather than for views. I was pretty happy that the headwind had talked me out of my bike seat early.
Still I admired the people who completed every mile this day, cycling at least 55 miles and 4311 elevation game against a biting wind. And I’m also so happy that I no longer have the aching desire to join them.
<b>Next: Cycle to Valldemossa Part Two</b>
Apr 17th, 2015, 07:01 AM
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You are so welcome, cybertraveler.
<b>Cycle to Valldemossa Part Two</b>
Our shuttle van arrived at the <b>Hotel Valldemossa</b> (Ctra Vieja de Valldemossa s/n Valldemossa 07170 +34 971 612 626 www.valldemossahotel.com )in the lovely town of <b>Valldemossa</b>.
To better describe our geographical location, we were still on the west side of Mallorca, but were now on the other side of the Sierra de Tramuntana.
The town of Valldemossa has a population of about 2,000 people that swells with daytrippers from Palma during the day since it’s only about 17 km / 30 minutes away.
Part of the beauty of the town is that the local blonde rock from which all the buildings are constructed blends gently into the mountain background so that nothing jars the senses. The now-flowering almond trees and the plants and flowers lining the very narrow streets made the town even more beautiful.
While the little cafes and restaurants throughout the little town make it a pleasant stopover, the town’s major landmark is a 13th century monastery known as “Real Cartuja de Valldemossa” or the “Royal Carthusian Monastery”. Writers, artists and composers, including composer Frederic Chopin and Georges Sand (aka Aurore Dupin), have all been struck by Valldemossa’s serenity.
The town is also the birthplace of Catalina Thomas, Mallorca's patron saint. Peasant girl Caterina was born in 1531, went on to became a nun in Palma and was renowned for her humility. She died in 1574, was beatified in 1792 and achieved sainthood in 1935. A lot of the houses bear little shrines or markings devoted to her.
By the way, Valdemossa itself is not on the coast, but years ago, the town created a coastal “sister” town: Port Valdemossa, just 6km away, which also has a restaurant or two.
Although we were dying to explore the town, we were scheduled for a Mallorcan wine tasting before dinner, and we had to get cleaned up fast.
Most of the rooms at this Relais & Chateaux property situated on the grounds of the old monestery include a walled private terrace with a wooden door entry, and then French doors leading from the terrace into the bedroom/sitting room.
This early in the season after the spring rains, I have to admit that our room was musty, something other guests noted with theirs. Luckily, with the private terrace arrangement, we were able to leave the French doors and windows open to air out the place while we dined (and later on, while we slept). I am sure that within a few weeks, the dryness of the late spring weather would erase the smell. No matter what, the surroundings of the hotel were stunning.
On to the wine tasting. I am so sorry I did not write down the name of the professional oenophile who gave us our presentation that evening. A charming man who worked for a local distributor, he did a lovely job giving us the history of wine production on the island, and he introduced us to three local wines, the most outstanding of which was a lovely cherry/blackberry red <b>Ribas de Cabrera</b> from the oldest winery on the island, <b>Hereus de Ribas</b>.
60% of Mallorcan wines are consumed by the hordes of tourists who pack the island every summer, so it’s unlikely you are going to see a wide selection of Mallorcan wines at your local store in the US. And it's a shame--we liked the unique flavor profiles.
Our dinner at the hotel was also lovely. As we left the dining room, I looked up at the sky and was stunned by the star display. We do forget how terrible light pollution is, preventing our enjoyment of one of life's simplest pleasures, skygazing. I also heard some murmuring below us, and sure enough, on a path that meandering by the hotel, was a Santa Semana procession by candlelight. The group started singing a beautiful soft hymn as they made their way through the landscape.
<b>Next: Riding along the North Coast</b>
<b>Cycle to Valldemossa Part Two</b>
Our shuttle van arrived at the <b>Hotel Valldemossa</b> (Ctra Vieja de Valldemossa s/n Valldemossa 07170 +34 971 612 626 www.valldemossahotel.com )in the lovely town of <b>Valldemossa</b>.
To better describe our geographical location, we were still on the west side of Mallorca, but were now on the other side of the Sierra de Tramuntana.
The town of Valldemossa has a population of about 2,000 people that swells with daytrippers from Palma during the day since it’s only about 17 km / 30 minutes away.
Part of the beauty of the town is that the local blonde rock from which all the buildings are constructed blends gently into the mountain background so that nothing jars the senses. The now-flowering almond trees and the plants and flowers lining the very narrow streets made the town even more beautiful.
While the little cafes and restaurants throughout the little town make it a pleasant stopover, the town’s major landmark is a 13th century monastery known as “Real Cartuja de Valldemossa” or the “Royal Carthusian Monastery”. Writers, artists and composers, including composer Frederic Chopin and Georges Sand (aka Aurore Dupin), have all been struck by Valldemossa’s serenity.
The town is also the birthplace of Catalina Thomas, Mallorca's patron saint. Peasant girl Caterina was born in 1531, went on to became a nun in Palma and was renowned for her humility. She died in 1574, was beatified in 1792 and achieved sainthood in 1935. A lot of the houses bear little shrines or markings devoted to her.
By the way, Valdemossa itself is not on the coast, but years ago, the town created a coastal “sister” town: Port Valdemossa, just 6km away, which also has a restaurant or two.
Although we were dying to explore the town, we were scheduled for a Mallorcan wine tasting before dinner, and we had to get cleaned up fast.
Most of the rooms at this Relais & Chateaux property situated on the grounds of the old monestery include a walled private terrace with a wooden door entry, and then French doors leading from the terrace into the bedroom/sitting room.
This early in the season after the spring rains, I have to admit that our room was musty, something other guests noted with theirs. Luckily, with the private terrace arrangement, we were able to leave the French doors and windows open to air out the place while we dined (and later on, while we slept). I am sure that within a few weeks, the dryness of the late spring weather would erase the smell. No matter what, the surroundings of the hotel were stunning.
On to the wine tasting. I am so sorry I did not write down the name of the professional oenophile who gave us our presentation that evening. A charming man who worked for a local distributor, he did a lovely job giving us the history of wine production on the island, and he introduced us to three local wines, the most outstanding of which was a lovely cherry/blackberry red <b>Ribas de Cabrera</b> from the oldest winery on the island, <b>Hereus de Ribas</b>.
60% of Mallorcan wines are consumed by the hordes of tourists who pack the island every summer, so it’s unlikely you are going to see a wide selection of Mallorcan wines at your local store in the US. And it's a shame--we liked the unique flavor profiles.
Our dinner at the hotel was also lovely. As we left the dining room, I looked up at the sky and was stunned by the star display. We do forget how terrible light pollution is, preventing our enjoyment of one of life's simplest pleasures, skygazing. I also heard some murmuring below us, and sure enough, on a path that meandering by the hotel, was a Santa Semana procession by candlelight. The group started singing a beautiful soft hymn as they made their way through the landscape.
<b>Next: Riding along the North Coast</b>
Apr 18th, 2015, 02:34 AM
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<b>Next: Riding along the North Coast</b>
Have I said how wonderful the guides were on this trip? We have been spoiled over the years by some great people, but our two guides and support driver on this trip were fantastic.
Here was the classic example: the lead guide greeted me at breakfast on this third day of the cycling trip and said, “You know…I’ve been thinking about what you should do today. Here’s my idea…”
He did the same with four others that I saw that morning. Two of them were the super-fast cyclists; one was average but was afraid of cycling by herself at all; one was on the slower end, but not as bad as I. We all were presented with DIFFERENT options, ones that were slightly different than the FOUR options offered on the routing.
I think this guy should be cloned.
Anyway, we enjoyed our extensive buffet breakfast at the Hotel Valldesmossa. I got to chow down on salmon again and make myself endless cups of fresh-brewed expresso, plus chomp on simply melt-in-the-mouth croissants. No, I did not touch the morning cava on hand.
Once on bikes, the group headed out of the hotel through town to wend their way towards the coast.
Me? I went in the van.
I had wisely listened to the guides and taken the option of starting my cycling a few km down the road. I still got to do uphills but almost ALL of them had pay-off views, including one at the <b>Torre del Verger</b> viewpoint.
My son-in-law was enjoying the views, too, pondering which mansion along this coast he’d buy as his retirement home. He had finally convinced my daughter that she need not wait for him. He had developed his own pacing—slow on the ups but really fast on the downs—and he was totally into the trip’s “do your own thing” mentality.
My daughter, injured right before the trip, now was starting to get her mojo back, and that was great to see.
My husband, I found out later, was particularly in his element that day. As I’ve often mentioned, his idea of a perfect cycling day is two stops in the morning in cute towns for a quickie expresso and two stops in the afternoon for the only Spanish word he knows: “cerveza.” This day’s routing made it possible for him to zoom ahead, drink his cup of joe, zoom ahead, drink another cup of joe, etc.
Our lunch stop was an outdoor picnic at a local winery. After lunch, one could quit here or shuttle back to the hotel. I’d say one half of the group continued to do the entire 57 miles for the day (6598 ft elevation gain).
You can guess what I did.
Back at Valldemossa in time for shops to reopen a bit after siesta, our family group plopped at a local café after we explored the pretty town streets. The café server told us that within three weeks, we would have had a hard time getting a table—the daytrippers from Palma would start coming in droves and the cycling population would multiply by four or five.
As it was, the only people drinking beers with us were indeed cycling groups. The two-wheeled part of the tourist invasion had certainly started.
...continued on next post...
Have I said how wonderful the guides were on this trip? We have been spoiled over the years by some great people, but our two guides and support driver on this trip were fantastic.
Here was the classic example: the lead guide greeted me at breakfast on this third day of the cycling trip and said, “You know…I’ve been thinking about what you should do today. Here’s my idea…”
He did the same with four others that I saw that morning. Two of them were the super-fast cyclists; one was average but was afraid of cycling by herself at all; one was on the slower end, but not as bad as I. We all were presented with DIFFERENT options, ones that were slightly different than the FOUR options offered on the routing.
I think this guy should be cloned.
Anyway, we enjoyed our extensive buffet breakfast at the Hotel Valldesmossa. I got to chow down on salmon again and make myself endless cups of fresh-brewed expresso, plus chomp on simply melt-in-the-mouth croissants. No, I did not touch the morning cava on hand.
Once on bikes, the group headed out of the hotel through town to wend their way towards the coast.
Me? I went in the van.
I had wisely listened to the guides and taken the option of starting my cycling a few km down the road. I still got to do uphills but almost ALL of them had pay-off views, including one at the <b>Torre del Verger</b> viewpoint.
My son-in-law was enjoying the views, too, pondering which mansion along this coast he’d buy as his retirement home. He had finally convinced my daughter that she need not wait for him. He had developed his own pacing—slow on the ups but really fast on the downs—and he was totally into the trip’s “do your own thing” mentality.
My daughter, injured right before the trip, now was starting to get her mojo back, and that was great to see.
My husband, I found out later, was particularly in his element that day. As I’ve often mentioned, his idea of a perfect cycling day is two stops in the morning in cute towns for a quickie expresso and two stops in the afternoon for the only Spanish word he knows: “cerveza.” This day’s routing made it possible for him to zoom ahead, drink his cup of joe, zoom ahead, drink another cup of joe, etc.
Our lunch stop was an outdoor picnic at a local winery. After lunch, one could quit here or shuttle back to the hotel. I’d say one half of the group continued to do the entire 57 miles for the day (6598 ft elevation gain).
You can guess what I did.
Back at Valldemossa in time for shops to reopen a bit after siesta, our family group plopped at a local café after we explored the pretty town streets. The café server told us that within three weeks, we would have had a hard time getting a table—the daytrippers from Palma would start coming in droves and the cycling population would multiply by four or five.
As it was, the only people drinking beers with us were indeed cycling groups. The two-wheeled part of the tourist invasion had certainly started.
...continued on next post...
Apr 18th, 2015, 02:40 AM
#19
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Dinner that night was on our own. The company's pre-trip information had told us to make reservations, and I had heeded. After researching all the local options, I contacted <b>Restaurante Sebastian</b> http://www.restaurantesebastian.com/
in the close-by town of <b>Deia</b> (Carrer de Felip Bauzà, 2, 07012 +34 971 63 94 17). Sebastian himself had responded to my email with a quick, “OK I put your name down.”
Our taxi driver from the hotel was an older gentleman who was very proud of a) his BMW taxi and b) his driving skills. I felt as though I were on a Le Mans course and I was relieved when we got to Deia's main street alive.
The taxi driver (Juan) directed us towards a downhill sidestreet and told us the restaurant would call him when we were finished.
A former stables, the restaurant has two seating areas: a brighter front area and a homey back area. We were seated in the front.
A point of contention in packing was whether the guys needed to bring jackets. As the trip planners, my daughter and I put our feet down. Bring the jackets or stay home. Both guys said later they were happy they did. First, most of the guys in this place had jackets on. Second, it was freezing cold whenever the sun went down.
The food was delicious. I had as a starter the foie gras, and I was leery when it arrived in two small thin slices. “Overcooked for sure” was my assumption. No. It was perfect. And perfect was how the meal stayed. The wine recommendation was spot-on, too.
I was so happy afterwards with our meal that I actually enjoyed our racetrack style drive back to the hotel.
We said goodnight to the stars again, and we looked forward to the ride--be it by cycle or van--the next day.
<b> Next: Mountain Passes Not Be Me</b>
Dinner that night was on our own. The company's pre-trip information had told us to make reservations, and I had heeded. After researching all the local options, I contacted <b>Restaurante Sebastian</b> http://www.restaurantesebastian.com/
in the close-by town of <b>Deia</b> (Carrer de Felip Bauzà, 2, 07012 +34 971 63 94 17). Sebastian himself had responded to my email with a quick, “OK I put your name down.”
Our taxi driver from the hotel was an older gentleman who was very proud of a) his BMW taxi and b) his driving skills. I felt as though I were on a Le Mans course and I was relieved when we got to Deia's main street alive.
The taxi driver (Juan) directed us towards a downhill sidestreet and told us the restaurant would call him when we were finished.
A former stables, the restaurant has two seating areas: a brighter front area and a homey back area. We were seated in the front.
A point of contention in packing was whether the guys needed to bring jackets. As the trip planners, my daughter and I put our feet down. Bring the jackets or stay home. Both guys said later they were happy they did. First, most of the guys in this place had jackets on. Second, it was freezing cold whenever the sun went down.
The food was delicious. I had as a starter the foie gras, and I was leery when it arrived in two small thin slices. “Overcooked for sure” was my assumption. No. It was perfect. And perfect was how the meal stayed. The wine recommendation was spot-on, too.
I was so happy afterwards with our meal that I actually enjoyed our racetrack style drive back to the hotel.
We said goodnight to the stars again, and we looked forward to the ride--be it by cycle or van--the next day.
<b> Next: Mountain Passes Not Be Me</b>
Apr 18th, 2015, 05:04 AM
#20
Our lunch stop was an outdoor picnic at a local winery. After lunch, one could quit here or shuttle back to the hotel. I’d say one half of the group continued to do the entire 57 miles for the day (6598 ft elevation gain).
You can guess what I did. >>
I'm there in the van with you, AZ.
You can guess what I did. >>
I'm there in the van with you, AZ.
