Island In The Sun
To say last night was hot is an understatement of vast proportions. It must have still been 30 degrees at midnight. You could’ve fried eggs on the pillow. Ross had even swapped comfort for coolness by resorting, pillow in hand, to sleeping on the tiles out on the terrace.
After Lola’s good strong coffee and a Spanish breakfast of jamon, tomatoes, cheese and bread, we learned that today we would again be the recipients of Lola’s uncle and aunt’s warm hospitality.
We were going aboard the good ship Ursul once more for a day of exploring (we just can’t seem to get enough of this nautical life) – sailing out to one of the other islands in the Belearic Archipelago. I was asking a question about the islands which was met with a very blank stare from Lola. “You know, the Bell-eer-ic Islands?” I said, to which there was silence. They didn’t need to say anything, the quizzical looks on their faces said it all. It seems I’ve been mispronouncing their name for years and they are actually the “Bell-ih-arr-ic” Islands. So there you have it. Now you know too. You can thank me later.
Our island destination was Cabrera, an archipelago itself, comprising of 18 islets that were now all protected national park and wildlife reserves. No calamar fishing in these waters. Lola explained that it was famous for its large and varied lizard population and she said this as if it was a good thing. For those of you who don’t know, I do have an irrational fear of lizards. The thought of spending a day waltzing around some sort of lizard holiday resort did send a shiver or two up my spine. I admitted my slight apprehension to Lola and she said she’d advise me to wear long pants. This didn’t allay my fears any, as I now pictured these reptile pals running up and down my legs. Yikes.
Isabel and Juan Jose would provide everything. We were required to bring only 2 things along:
Swimming costume
Walking shoes
Unfortunately in the rush to get out the door, or perhaps my preoccupation with lizard fears, I forgot to bring only 2 things along:
Swimming costume
Walking shoes
What a goose.
Lola must have phoned ahead because my reputation seemed to have preceded me. After greeting Juan Jose at the wharf with the prescribed kiss on each cheek, he could barely control his mirth as he inquired whether I’d be swimming in the nude today.
Thankfully, Isabel is the most organised person this side of Mallorca and not only did she have a spare pair of shoes in my size, she also had a spare cossie. Great! Crisis averted. The only problem was, upon seeing the aforementioned swimwear, I was slightly perplexed as to how I was going to fit myself into it. It looked like it would’ve fitted thirteen year-old Maisy. Isabel was suitably impressed with the swimsuit and with raised eyebrows, pointed to the cleavage, motioning downwards with a “whoo hoo”. I wasn’t sure exactly what that meant but thanked her for her kindness and set about squeezing myself into this thing. It was plunging alright. I felt like I was climbing into a Lycra slingshot. If I straightened up too fast, I might propel myself overboard. Most of me fitted inside but there was always the chance a rogue body part may try to escape at any stage.
As we approached Cabrera, we could see how pristine and unspoilt it was. The castle, built on solid rock, was said to have been built in the 14th century! It stood high on the rocky cliff top, perched like a watchman keeping tabs over the island. You could see it for miles. It had quite a chequered history, originally built by Christians to protect the island from the Moors it was also used to house hostages, as a prison, as a military post and as a holiday home for the King of Spain, among other things.
Our first stop after tying up to the mooring was to grab a refreshing ale from the island cantina. One of only a few buildings on the whole island, the whitewashed cantina was gorgeous with fishing nets, coloured buoys and salty ropes hanging from its rafters. It was like something out of a movie. The boys ordered shandies (who would have known they were a Spanish thing too?) and the girls indulged in frozen milky almond concoctions – a delicious Mallorcan specialty. Everyone was seated and sipping when the barman dropped the clanger that they only took cash. Uh oh. With all of us bereft of cash and there not being an ATM on this remote national park island we were in quite a dilemma. Just before we conceded to having to wash dishes, I realised I could pay with PayPal. Oh the wonders of modern technology.
It was now time to battle the lizards and the heat and embark on our walk up to the castle. With memories of our ‘walk from hell’ still fresh in our minds, we were feeling a little daunted. This time we were going UP after all. The path was wide though and before we knew it, breathless and sweaty though we were, we were at the crest of the hill staring up at this magnificent piece of Mallorcan history. The view from the top took our breath away and the vivid turquoise water was magic. We could see Juan Jose’s gleaming vessel bobbing on the transparent sea, looking as if it was floating in thin air. Tobes has been wanting to chat to Lola and Joan since we arrived and just as we’d reached the summit, my phone rang to reveal Toby’s happy face on FaceTime. What an opportune time to call. We could share the vista with him too.
Squeezing into the teeny, tiny spiral staircase that seemed to go up forever, I pondered whether people were a lot smaller in the 14th century. There was barely room to breathe in there. (Or maybe that was my cossie?)
Although I had heard plenty of suspicious rustling in the shrubbery, I had kept my eyes firmly forward and had miraculously and entirely avoided any lizard sightings. Phew.
By the time Juan Jose had picked us up from the wharf and delivered us safely back aboard Ursul, Isabel had whipped out a table and chairs and a spread to salivate over. There were empanadas and crusty Spanish rolls with Iberian jamon or tuna, Spanish cheese and a delectable custard-filled Mallorcan ensaïmada for dessert. It was delicious!
As we swam in the turquoise sea, so clear that my ill-fitting cossie was a tad hard to conceal, we were surrounded by fish. Juan Jose threw bread crumbs into the water to create a veritable feeding frenzy with fish jumping out of the water to eat it. It was like being part of the dolphin show at Sea World. If I’d straightened up fast enough I’m sure my swimsuit could have catapulted me into a nice backward somersault with pike.
Boarding the beautiful boat again Juan Jose took us for a spin right around the island. Each side was unique, with giant rocks coming straight up out of the water and big caves to explore. It would be a scuba diver’s paradise. The lighthouses were striped or patterned and Juan Jose told us that where the beams cross, lies his secret spot to catch ‘calamar’. His secret is safe with us as is his calamar-catching record.
Returning to Lola’s in the late afternoon, Ross immediately collapsed into bed , totally exhausted. Lola, her daughter Paula and I talked well into the night. They are such lovely people.
The next morning Lola dropped us to the airport to drop off our bags before one last look around the capital, Palma. The highlight of the morning was when Ross went into a chemist to inquire about some cream for his cold sore. As he was trying to explain what he was after and the pharmacist was thinking out loud: “is it a blister? Sunburn? Is it cracked lips?”
Then, in a lightbulb moment she exclaimed in a loud voice: “HERPES! (She pronounced it “erpees”) You have herpes!” I got the giggles as Ross nodded in assent. He did indeed have erpees.
Well, here ends our holiday that really wasn’t a holiday but an adventure. We have had an absolute ball and are so grateful to have been able to see such amazing parts of God’s world. Now we are looking forward to giving those kids of ours a big hug.
Thanks for reading along!
Adios!
