"Spain is the last great country."-Ernest Hemingway
Last Monday, I woke up at 6 am, ate a poptart, put on my scarf and fleece sweater, and grabbed my tightly packed bookbag: I was on my way to get my passport stamped once again. There were ten of us, and we all met in the pub. Half asleep, we managed to drive our way to Stanstead Airport, about an hour away from Cart and Horses. Our flight left at 11am and I had know idea what to expect of Majorca, Spain. It isn't mainland Spain, so I knew I wouldn't see Pamplona and the Running of the Bulls, or Barcelona and anything related to Picasso, or even Seville and whatever Seville is famous for. We had a two hour flight on Europe's cheapest airline: Ryanair. It's also the bumpiest and serves it's vodka in little baggies. But the views from the window seat made up for the dropping feeling in my stomach every time we hit turbulence (or was that the vodka?). We could see the circular roads in France, the Pyrenese Mountains that ride the border of France and Spain and their small villages nestled in each nook and cranny of the mountains, and we could see the beaches of Barcelona as we approached the sea (we didn't, however, get close enough to see if they were nude...sorry fellas). It really was one of the most beautiful plane rides I've ever taken.
Majorca is located in the Mediterranean Sea, halfway between Spain's coast and Italy's Sardinia island. It's best known for the popular city of Palma, which we didn't explore until our last day. As we landed in the Palma airport, though, I could already feel the heat of the sun, which I hadn't seen in awhile (yes, it really is rainy and cloudy in England most of the time) and in celebration, I immediately rolled up my jeans, put on a pair of flip flops, and broke out my aviator sunglasses. Oh, Holiday!
We drove (on the right side! Which was a nice homey feeling) for about an hour through the greens of Majorca, with views extending to the mountains and the sea. When we finally arrived to our all-inclusive resort in Cala Mallor, everyone was antsy to get our Staff Holiday started. I threw my bags in my room and immediately followed my fellow travelers to the bar, where I sipped the house cocktail outside until the sun set, listening to the crashing of waves nearly 20 yards away. There was no entertainment at the hotel that night, no big meals planned, it was simply a refreshing evening with good drinks and good company. I guess the only thing that ruined that was getting kicked out of the restaurant because my boss and one of the chefs, Ben, decided a food fight with ice cream would be fun...let's just say they had one to many tequilas...The end of the night came at around 3am at a casino down the street from our hotel. It was me and James, and we had become so jacked up on sugary, mixed drinks that we couldn't fall asleep. So we grabbed some of our Euros and began pushing buttons on the slots. Apparently they were all the wrong buttons, so we took the few coins we had left and enjoyed a game of pool, a couple arcade games that involved shooting zombies, and then had a go at the roulette table.Slightly hungover and a few Euros short, we traveled early the next morning to Cuevas del Porto Cristo, a favorite vacation spot of Mozart, which explains the random opera we had to sit through in the middle of our caves tour. The caves were absolutely amazing, regardless of the 12 minute opera break. With the group photo taken at the exit of the caves, and the sound of Mozart echoing further and further away, we hopped in our Ford Focus' and began "Ian's drive to nowhere." The boss man, Ian, who thought he knew where he was going, ended up driving us through the narrowest of streets, down the steepest hills, and nowhere near beaches; the intended destination. But somehow, we did find ourselves at a lookout where we could see the meeting of beach, sea and sky. (Insert photo of me here) :)
As the day ended, we traveled back to our hotel where the bar awaited. I'd like to say that for that one evening, I managed to control myself, but when in Spain...Tonight, though, something different: Gin and Tonics...and Champagne...and San Miquels...I know what you're thinking, "Jill, slow down" but in my defense, I wasn't the one with the worst hangover the next day. Those English sure like to drink...to top of our night, the hotel hosted a Bingo night for all the blue-hair Germans that joined us on our holiday. Just a note to anyone traveling to Majorca in Spain: There will be a lot of old people that like to sleep. (End tally of how many times management climbed the stairs to our room to tell us to "silencio, por favor": 4.5 The half is because we went down to the lobby and they didn't have to actually climb the stairs).
Anyway, the last day of our trip, we drove into Palma, home of a gigantic Cathedral (which is closed in the winter time, to our disappointment) and the 12th Century Castell De Bellver. The climb to the top of the castle was, well, harsh, considering everyone's alcoholic intake the night before, but to sit at the top and gaze upon the hustle and bustle of Palma with the contrasting easiness of the sea was refreshing.
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To finally get away from the pub (and the rainy, cloudy days!) and see all my coworkers away from the job, was the greatest thing about this trip. I was able to relax without worrying about screwing up an order (which I don't do often) or breaking a wine glass (which actually does happen often) and just drink on the beaches of Calla Mallor, Majorca. My first trip outside of England, but definitely not my last. An update on my month of June I'll have to explore before coming home: I've already booked a spot on a tour with Topdeck Tours (tours for 18-35 year olds) to get me from London, through Paris, the French Rivearia, all of Italy, sailing the coast of Greece and Croatia, through Austria, Prague, Amsterdam, then back to London in time for Wimbledon at the end of June! But they're will be loads more between now and then! Talk to everyone soon! XO's, jill
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