This year it is different!
This does not of course preclude the usual hardships of such travel; such as the Bar Mavi…
….where the next morning a glass of cava accompanied a piquante pan con tomate breakfast in a true festive manner….
…..or the selection of cakes…
The first couple of days were abandoned as the ceaseless inundation continued; yet from the soggy ashes of this a pyrrhic victory was drawn in the shape of a five day walk across the island from Esporles to Pollenca; a mere 65Kms and but 4,000m of ascent.
Esporles. A short bus ride from the fleshpots of Palma and breakfast wine immediately places one in fresher air and bucolic surrounds. The ‘offical’ path from here to Valldemossa is shut – however, the landowner is fighting a losing battle against the wire cutters and barrier removers of the Mallorcan walking fraternity and the way is open; if a tad illegal.
A relatively warm 16C feels nice after autumn in the north-east.
An easy hours climbing takes us into scrubby oak woods with soft wet layers of detritus underfoot.
The rain had even filled all the cisterns; clever designs with wells lower than the main chambers and runnels with gathering holes to catch precipitation.
We reach an escarpment and make out virtual Christmas card to send (its better kept private).
My best side…
Leisure and relaxation is the name of this game….so luncheon is prolonged.
Ere long Valldemossa hoves into view and we spin down the hill to fine accommodation and a realisation that this is not such a bad village after all; seeing it in its tourist splendour with bussed in hordes as is usual might reverse that view for many (myself included).
An ‘interesting’ dining experience with Mallorcan ‘fusion’ food from a cook who seemingly spends more of his time preening in the mirror than paying attention to his dishes completes the day.
The morning buffet breakfast is good; but does not stop an overly enthusiastic Dr Deliciosa from buying one of virtually every item in the local pie shoppe.
Again we must trespass onto the lands of the hapless fence-and-barrier-building tosser who owns the Som Moragues estate.
Last years dusty track is somewhat transformed…..
And up an easy track that breaks north-east to climb through quiet forests prior to forcing a way through escarpments to gain the cliff tops.
It should be remarked upon that this day is not so easy…on paper it is but 11 or so miles, and indeed on the ground; but that ground is somewhat capricious in its nature underfoot in the rougher parts of the mountains.
We contour the ‘out of bounds’ (so Senor Moragues thinks…) Puig des Teix and drop to the lovely Font de Serp for water.
Then it is our pleasure to enjoy the openness of the ridge to Sa Galera, wandering along a ridge at about the 1000m mark for several kilometres.
Sa Galera; OK, so a bit dank now and then…
A drop down through more ‘restricted’ areas brings us to the final descent to Soller; normally OK, but the wetness has turned the limestone cobbles into a bit of an ice rink – so care needed.
It seems we have to endure the Christmas menu with flight of wine; Dr Deliciosa flies…I watch.
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Well, this was meant to be a day of many miles….but circumstances and everything…….change; far better it seemed to bask in the sun for a few hours than bivouac in a damp and cold valley that probably seems scarcely an hour of sunshine a day.
So up from Binarix we totter, laden with provender as usual and waddling from the excess of a two-course hotel breakfast.
Hardly embracing the lightweight philosophy…
Someone belies their Mediterranean origins….
Strictly no camping. Absolutely. No sireee.
I ate their brother last night.
Most normal being would be happy in shorts and a T….others….
For some reason Dr Deliciosa wishes to record my putting up the tent…..quite why she has such confidence in my general campsite and stick-whittling prowess I have no idea (I am sure egocentric boasting and constant self-affirmation have nothing to do with it).
Trying to appear capable: 1
Tum te tum…..time passes; here’s a picture of a prickly thing..
Trying to appear capable: 2
I have wanted to camp here for about 15 years; being able (in all senses of the word) to get such a vast tent up was quite a surprise in the limited space available.
No idea what is in these little bottles.
I think she has forgiven me for kicking Dinner # 1 over; bloody gas stoves.
What was in those little bottles again….?
A great opportunity for those ‘oh so original’ lit-up tent shots as dawn….dawns clear and cold.
A 20m climb up to the Col de l’Ofre. Quite taxing. Tempted to put the tent up again.
Last year’s streams running well.
The Canaleta de Massenella ports water down the various villages at the foot of the mountains.
Up through the woods prior to the somewhat tedious climb (for these festive legs) to the Col de Prats (yes yes).
Moving away from the col via a shortcut to reach the descent to the Santuari de Lluc…..like many Mallorca shortcuts you pay for the time saving with ripped legs and bruised ankles as the karst and thorns can be vexing.
Oaf with reversed baseball cap.
Swimming through the grass….
Old snow cave; restored. I preferred it as it was.
The drop down to Lluc smarts as stones begin to strike up through the soles of shoes; dreams and hopes of Tarta de Almendra sustain as we drop down the well-engineered path. I prefer this as it is.
Yet these pesky kids have scoffed the very last piece…
A roasted goat is entertained; and a good sleep ensues.
The day dawns cold as per usual. Choices now…climb Puig Tomir or along the valley; torpor wins easily.
This super easy 18km passes quickly. Burbling fonts abound, there are few people and we are both wrapped up in movement and sun.
And the backpack ends…..
….yet once back in Palma the real trip begins….
