Back On Solid Ground (Well Sort Of)
It was through bleary, teary eyes that we said our fond farewells to our beautiful friends this morning. That was after we finally located Al who we had wrongly assumed was at the toilet but who had actually missed the alarm and was sweetly slumbering up on the flybridge.
Al and Chelle have been so incredibly generous to us this week, sharing the amazing Pasha with us and lavishing hospitality upon us without ceasing. It certainly has been a week we’ll never forget.
Al squinted into the morning to safely deposit us on the shore of Villefranche-sur-Mer. Ross had ordered us a cab and when a very trendy looking driver with a fancy black car said: “Airport?” we hopped right in. It was only when, a little way into the trip, Ross got a call from a confused cabbie waiting for us back at the pub, we realised we may have gotten in the wrong car. Not to worry – we drove in style.
We flew from Nice to Mallorca and were greeted at the airport by the warm, friendly face of our gorgeous friend Lola. Hola Lola! Lola was Toby’s Catalan teacher before having to move back to Spain a couple of years ago. Lola had taken a couple of days off work to spend time with us and had made us a huge slap-up lunch for the minute we walked through her welcoming doorway.
As we stuffed ourselves full of meatballs, cheese, salad, bread, rice…we pondered what we should do with the afternoon. It was decided we’d call Lola’s uncle Juan Jose, who lived in the beautiful seaside village of Colonial Saint Jordi. He may be able to take us for a spin in his boat. We had barely stopped rocking after stepping off Pasha but hey, why not?
Juan Jose doesn’t just own a boat, this boat is his absolute pride and joy. Some may say it borders on an obsession but others would see it as pure love and devotion. The story goes, that he intervened just in the nick of time, to save this 50 year-old traditional Mallorcan timber boat from anhialation. Just when it was headed to that big marina in the sky, Juan Jose stepped in to save the day (and the boat). He bought it for 6’000€ and after spending 4500 hours lovingly restoring her, now estimates she’s worth 70’000€. Named URSUL, after a Russian bear, this little boat, as pretty as a picture, is immaculate and magnificent. Bright white and navy blue with timber trims and teak decks, URSUL is a sight to behold. Juan Jose keeps a little bucket of soapy water & a sponge on hand at all times, to do any on the spot cleaning that may need attention. His favourite pastime now he’s retired is to catch “calamar”, though the ink can be a touch problematic for such a clean freak. (Of course he has drop sheets for that). Juan Jose and his friends have daily competitions for who can bring home the most squid. In one day, he caught 70! That’s a record that fills him with pride. His beautiful wife Isabel laughed about how many different calamar recipes she can muster up – fried calamar, crumbed calamar, calamar stew, calamar pasta, calamar on toast (just kidding about the last one). She said she reminds herself of Bubba Gump with the shrimp.
After a spin around the beach in the beautiful boat, Juan Jose and Isabel invited us for dinner, which was more than kind. Not being a big fan of the old calamari myself though, I was dreading the meal and wondering which variety of our eight-legged friends I would have to endure in the hope of not offending. I decided to let Lola know on the sly, which wasn’t really that sly because in case I forgot to mention, they don’t speak a word of English.
They were two of the kindest, nicest people you could ever meet and they didn’t serve squid after all. Instead, we were treated with a traditional Mallorcan sausage called “sobrassada”, which we later found out was made by Juan Jose himself.
*Skip this next bit if you’re vegan or vegetarian.
Apparently, all the men his age in the village, grab a piglet and spend the summer “fattening him up”. When he’s nice and portly they chop him into various bits and pieces and fill their fridges with their handiwork. Get some pork on your fork.
*Apologies if you ploughed ahead there and ignored my disclaimer.
I might just say, my consumption of the sobrassada (with honey) came well before the little pig story, enhancing my enjoyment of eating it, which may very well have been hampered had it gone in the reverse order.
Juan Jose plied us with amazing food, French champagne, Spanish wine and cheese and topped it off with another Mallorcan specialty: ensaimada with custard for dessert.
It was quite hilarious sitting at the table all night, listening to animated conversation in a language other than our own and not having a clue what was going on. Lola and her gorgeous son Joan (pronounced “jhu-arn”) did their best to interpret for us and we had plenty of laughs despite the language barrier. It was a really fun night.
We hadn’t started dinner until after 10pm so Ross and I dozed all the way home in the car, gently rocking as we slept.
