palma de mallorca: a messy day of sun, sea, and slightly lost wandering
okay, so palma. i landed here thinking i’d have a plan, but plans are for people who pack light and wake up early. i packed five shirts and hit snooze twice. the weather? it’s sitting at 14.42°c right now, which is basically sweater weather pretending to be spring. feels like 13.61°c if you’re standing in the shade next to a confused pigeon. humidity’s at 65%, so my hair is doing that thing where it’s half beach waves, half “did you stick your finger in a socket?”
i just checked and it's 14.42°c there right now, hope you like that kind of thing.
anyway, i started the day at this little cafe i found on tripadvisor called *can Joan de s’Aigo. someone told me that their hot chocolate is basically melted chocolate bars in a mug, and they weren’t lying. i also heard that the ensaïmada pastries here are legendary, so obviously i ordered three. don’t judge.
“if you don’t try the ensaïmada, you haven’t been to palma,” a local whispered to me while i was waiting in line. i believed them.
next, i wandered toward the palma cathedral because it’s impossible to miss. it’s this massive gothic thing that looks like it’s been there since the beginning of time, judging everyone quietly. i sat on a bench nearby and watched tourists take the exact same photo from the exact same angle. i joined them. no shame.
if you get bored, barcelona and valencia are just a short drive away. or a long train ride. depends on how much you like sitting down.
for lunch, i followed a drunk-sounding yelp review that said “the seafood here will make you forget your ex.” it was at kikuchi sushi, which is weirdly japanese in the middle of mallorca, but hey, the tuna was fresh enough to make me reconsider my life choices. someone also told me that celler sa premsa does a mean pa amb oli, but i was too full to move.
i rented a bike after that because apparently walking is “outdated.” the weather was cool enough that i didn’t sweat through my shirt immediately, which is a win. i rode along the coast, past playa de palma, and stopped to watch some old men play bocce ball like their lives depended on it. i considered joining, then remembered i have the hand-eye coordination of a caffeinated squirrel.
later, i found myself in the old town, getting lost in alleys that smelled like orange blossoms and someone’s abuela’s cooking. i passed a tiny bookstore that looked like it belonged in a movie, so i went in and bought a book i can’t read because it’s in catalan. worth it.
“the best tapas are always where the menu isn’t in english,” a guy at the bar told me. i took that as gospel and ended up at taberna baelo*, where the patatas bravas made me question every other patata i’ve ever eaten.
by evening, i was sitting at the marina, watching the sunset turn the water into liquid gold. i checked the weather again-still 14.56°c as the max, pressure holding steady at 1008. the sea was calm, the kind of calm that makes you want to lie and say you’re “finding yourself.” i was just tired and happy.
i didn’t see everything. i didn’t even see most things. but i saw enough to know that palma doesn’t need me to describe it perfectly. it just needs me to be here, slightly sweaty, slightly full, and completely okay with not having a plan.
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- https://topiclo.com/post/air-quality-and-environmental-health-in-bogor-my-lungs-are-questioning-my-life-choices