Tuesday, 4 August 2009

Mallorca '09

Heat. Sun. Sea. Sand. Chipped nail polish. 100 lengths a day. Sticky, sweaty suncream skin. Total overpacking. Being crushed by obese Scottish tourists. Being woken by Poppiholla played at full volume from an earphone held close to my ear. 12-hour days. Late, late nights. Falling asleep to the sound of the fan. Ernest Hemingway. Skinny dipping in broad daylight from the pedalo. Scrabble. Swimming to the bottom. Hibiscus. Losing hair ties. Flip flop tan lines. Evelyn Waugh. Being welcomed effusively by the owners of the restaurant we've patronised for years. Adjusting to Spanish time (late, everything). Playing chicken with the waves after nightfall. Getting into a car where the screen read 49 degrees. Being serenaded by an old man on an accordion. Minigolf at midday-madness! Real lemon ice cream eaten from the frozen fruit. Driving over hills, through silver-green olive groves and past remote old fincas surrounded by skinny goats wearing tinkling bells. Seeing the view spread out like a map in intense, saturated technicolour. Driving back under icing-sugar stars. P.G. Wodehouse. German trance music. New Calvin Klein swimsuit. Intense weight gain from the fantastic food. Being cheered by young waiters for having a brother in a Torres football shirt. Watching the sun setting into the sea. Ensaimada. Melted carmex. Choking on mosquito spray. Reading American Vogue cover to cover 3 times (not as good as British). Palm trees. F. Scott Fitzgerald. Sand between the toes. Seeing the curve of the horizon. Arguing over the lilo. Breaking the fan and replacing the button upside down. Breaking the bank's cashpoint machine. Free digestifs (non alcoholic for the children, thank you!). Wave jumping. Make up that went unused. Days that drifted past in a haze of warmth. Lots and lots of fun, for everyone.

We saw this lemonade in production-the woman picked the lemons off the tree, squeezed them and poured the resulting juice out for us before our very eyes!

It is a tradition for us to walk up the huge hill in Santa Ponca, where we stay. The view is amazing.

My mum, my sister and I spent a day in Palma, the beautiful capital city. There's a great range of shops there, although I only ended up buying a swimsuit. Could have taken about a gazillion more photos but we were pressed for time and I'm no good at shooting on the move.

These art deco windows come from when there was a bad harvest in Mallorca (I think-or something along the lines of crop failure) and lots of inhabitants went to the mainland where they discovered this new style of art. When they returned in more prosperous years they brought their new techniques with them.

We played many a game of scrabble, none of which I won (although I was the champion at Boggle).

The flowers there are amazing-so colourful. We have hibiscuses in our garden that close up at night.

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