Having most of the day to kill before boarding our early evening flight from Palma to the UK, we decided to drive over the mountainous roads and death-defying curves from Puerto Pollensa straight into Palma.
If you have a competent driver with you, I would say it’s a must-do. If you don’t, I imagine you’d rather stay as close to sea level as possible. I was in panic sweats every time something bigger than a bicycle drove towards us.
In all its beauty and terror, the drive into Palma was nothing compared to the city itself. Palma is an interesting one; as the capital city of the autonomous Balearic Islands, it is equal parts historical and tourism-crazed. As you enter the city, you are welcomed by the gargantuan gothic Cathedral of Santa Maria of Palma (commonly referred to as La Seu), only to turn a corner filled with street musicians and souvenir shops.
Palma is…rampant. And gorgeous. But mostly rampant.
After quelling all short-lived tourism desires, we spent the rest of our day be-bopping around the backstreets, consuming as much sobrassada and espresso as our bodies could handle, and getting harassed by persistent ‘designer’ bag street salesmen.
It’s been a beautiful journey, Mallorca.
