Mallorca and Roving Herds of Germans

We arrived on Mallorca after much trial and tribulations, in other words, the screwups were rather spectacular. It was fitting, given the start of the day in torrential downpours. The Barcelona airport was in on the joke as we later played a rousing version of The Revolving Departure Gate game. By the third gate change the moans and curses from the hundred or so passengers getting up to move to the latest gate was comical. By gate two, I’d put my headphones on and was listing to some upbeat feel good music on Spotify. Whining gets you nothing. Good music and a glass of wine on the other hand… 😏

It was a sunny warm day, and once our host came an led us to the flat it fell into alignment. By far the best Airbnb I’ve had to date (review below). One has to ignore the death defying flight of stairs leading up to the flat. 

Ali and I split up for most of the next two days. My work had me starting late one day and her late night had her lagging on the next. We met up for one lunch and dinners. We both fell hard and fast for the charms of the old town and Cathedral, WhatsApping our joy and discoveries as the day wore on.

Our first night we settled into what would become our favorite little plaza. Our anchor was the Bazaar Tapas Bar and Restaurant.  

It’s owned by a young Russian gent who has a passion and talent for culinary delights.  Don’t miss this gem if you’re in the hood. 

I think it was our second night we found one of Ali’s foodie targets. A tiny place that serves nothing but Paella. Oh. My. God. Pity the poor soul that want’s a larger menu. 

Cal ‘XTO Paella There were leftovers. 

Mallorca cemented my view that tapas is the way for me to live. As Ali noted, I eat like a bird. That’s true. I won’t finish a large meal, but it doesn’t mean I don’t love food. I adore good food and will walk a mile to get it. No need in Spain. #ILoveSpain

Another delight were to cured meat, wine and cheese shops. Brightly colored strands of peppers lure you in to taste their succulent offerings. It was a sad parting as I left empty handed. No room in my suitcase for that. 

A heads up for those looking for love, or a pit stop. September brings herds of free roaming Germans to towns like Mallorca. It’s a tradition. Some of these guys have been traveling every year for decades. They’re all very friendly and happy to chat. Can’t say they’re all single, but many were. Just a thought if you’re interested. 

The Cathedral was spectacular. 

I adored the peek-a-boo views of it and other churches as you wend your way around town.


Make sure to at least see the outside of the Museum of Modern Art for stunning views of the cathedral and surrounding area. 

From the museum I spotted the Castell de Bellver If I get back here, I’ll definitely add this to my list.

It was clear flying in that Mallorca is a large island. We touched but a corner of its right eye. I’d love to sail around the island and explore the many towns. 

Our trip to the airport was far less eventful than Ibiza. Our wonderful host arranged a taxi to pick us up. And the good man that the driver is, he carried Ali’s bags down for her.

Prior to his arrival, I slid my giant bag down on its back doing an awkward crabwalk as I clutched the handle. If I’d let go, my nearly 50kg bag would have set sail before crashing into the wooden doors at the bottom. Granted, that and the aftermath would have been blog worthy, but I’m happy to say the bag and I made it just fine. 

Turns out when I say my ‘nearly 50kg bag’ I wasn’t wrong. The scale at IBZ weighed in at 49.7kg. Another laugh out loud moment. 

Ali didn’t fare as well. Her big bag slid under the weight limit with marginally more breathing room than mine, but they made her weigh her carry on. Turns out it was too heavy to carry on. Sorry, not sorry, but I laughed at that too. She had to check that beast.

Needless to say I’ll be stashing quite a few clothes somewhere before I return to the states to get that Visa. 


Aside from afore mentioned man eating stairs, the lack of coffee was the only downside. I was prepared with tea to get me going in the morning and Mallorca has no shortages of cafes.  

Some before and after photos for you. The little balcony off the master suite was a delight. 

And, the lived in look.

I’m Sabine Priestley, an electrical engineer and author of Science Fiction Romance novels (yes, that kind of novel). I am a dreamer and a chaser of magic. Fluent in sarcasm.

Officially nomad as of June 1st, everything I own is in a 10’x10’ storage in Florida. It’s never too late to chase your dreams, and after a recent divorce, I’ve decided to live those dreams and make them real. I’m looking for home.

Next up on my nomad blog is Mediterranean Cruise and Channeling Abraham.  

With love,

I invite you to come with me while I explore! Sign up for my blog at 

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