Brian and I were at a loss of where to go this past weekend. The Spanish family we had met in Penedes had offered some great suggestions for some woodsy-lake-type getaways north of Barcelona, but we just couldn't quite shake the beach itch. We had been planning an impromptu trip to Thailand only to learn that the flights were really out of our budget and really, REALLY long, so we settled for the gorgeous (although chilly) island beaches just off the coast of Spain in the Mediterranean.
I had visited Mallorca with a group of friends when I lived in Spain almost 10 years ago and remember it being absolutely beautiful but kind of weirdly touristy among the British and the Germans. No pasa nada! Brian hadn't been there before, and all you have to say is "beach" to get me to agree to a trip, so we booked plane tickets to leave 12 hours later.
Another ode to my former Spain life was this catchy song that my roomies and I jammed over and over before heading to the island of Ibiza (just next to Mallorca) back in 2002. Brian has heard all my Spain stories about a million times, so he was all too familiar with the tune. We changed the words from Ibiza to Mallorca and sang our way all the way to Palma. I take no responsibility for the hilarity of this music video, by the way. But it's a catchy little tune, and 20 euro says you'll catch yourself humming it at least once in the next day or two. ;)
We're going to Mallorca!!!
After a 30 minute flight, another rented Ford Ka and a 45 minute drive across the island we arrived in Port Alcudia. This was our view from our little apartment. The apartment itself was perfect - a quaint studio newly updated and completely decked out in the Spanish decorator of choice, Ikea. But the little city and the building were kind of funny. Totally deserted. Weirdly, oddly, ghost town quiet. It's obvious that the whole island must be overrun with tourists during the warmer summer months, but it was completely empty in February.
Cold or not, the beaches are just as beautiful to me! The man who we rented the apartment from had been nice enough to offer a map of Mallorca with all the best beaches and sights marked. So we packed up the car and headed first thing to this natural park where the beach is protected and building is not permitted. Paradise.
The water was crystal clear, the sand white and fluffy and the view of the mountains spectacular.
There were a few people here and there wandering up and down the beach, a family or two playing in the sand, the random brave Brit taking a frosty dip, but for the most part it felt pretty secluded.
Finding the perfect spot...
Found it! The weather was probably in the 60s, but the sun was warm and there was barely any wind. So we set about right away changing out of our jeans into our swimsuits and bare feet.
I tried DESPERATELY to catch any amount of sun that would constitute some sort of tan. No dice. But the view was amazing and it felt good to have my skin warmed by the sun. I am a warm-weather creature for sure.
Brian and I have been cracking up at the fact that he cannot find his swimsuit anywhere. He swore he packed one, but it just seems to have disappeared. I had originally packed 6 (I know, I know, but any girl will tell you she likes options), and only arrived with 3 myself. We weren't really in our right minds those last two days before we left, what with the stress of tying up so many loose ends, and I know that I was pulling things out of my suitcase left and right to try to make it zip and to try to come in under weight. I'm guessing those three other swimsuits were casualties of the purge. And we can only imagine that maybe Brian did the same thing. But it just seems so silly, right? Leaving the country to live in a city on the BEACH and you chuck the swimsuit? I just don't believe he would do it. Not my husband. Who knows. Haha.
Yep, sangria in a box. And it was de-li-cious.
Seemed like the right moment for a little yoga on the beach. I have been loving (LOVING) my yoga practice here in Spain. I have taken yoga off and on for years and had most recently gotten into a pretty good habit in the last 6 months or so before we left. But I can honestly say I have a practice now, and I finally understand what that actually means. It's beautiful. And so cleansing. And I love it. LOVE it.
And as you can probably tell by these photos, no, I'm not even really that great at yoga. Ha! But that's what is so fabulous about it; it doesn't judge you. It just meets you where you're at and encourages you along. I suffered an accident about 7 years ago that really negatively affected my whole spinal column...neck, low back, shoulder...and for the first time in 7 years I'm feeling stronger. Like my body is healing. Slowly. Very, very slowly. But healing nonetheless.
If you can't be goofy with the one you love, who can you be goofy with? The first week we were in Barcelona, we visited
with some of the other ESADE exchange students and there was this lively, reggae-ish band playing on the plaza in the park. When they were done with their set they sang this great little jingle to sell their CDs and the words went something like this, "We've got a CD. It's amazing. They're only 10. Euros. Each." It was super hilarious, and we haven't been able to get that song out of our heads. So this is me singing that song to Brian...as you can probably tell, I've just gotten to the 10 euros part.
I couldn't resist a day on the beach without at least dipping my toesies in...
....yep! Freaking freezing!
What? Isn't this in style? We probably enjoyed a solid hour of sunshine, swimsuit fun before the clouds rolled over the sun and the breeze picked up. So we piled on a few layers, picked up our stuff and hiked back to the car to move onto the next beach. As cute as this outfit is, I did indeed put my clothes back on when we got to the car.
After the natural preserve we headed to what we thought was another protected beach. It turned out to be something completely different but gorgeous nonetheless!