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Rewind: Mallorca

January 21, 2013

In June (yes, I’m rewinding that far!), Sam and I were able to have a long weekend getaway. Thanks to Sam’s parents who kept the kids happy and healthy in London, we took the quick flight to Mallorca for 3 days in paradise. Mallorca has a fair bit of “Spring Break Goes Wild” on the beaches near the airport. We were desperate for some sunshine, though, and needed to go somewhere relatively close. Thanks to TripAdvisor, we discovered an area of the island that was absolutely stunning, peaceful and sans techno music and tribal, bicep tattoos.

Welcome to Deia…

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Deià is a small coastal village in the Serra de Tramuntana, which forms the northern ridge of the Spanish island of Mallorca.  It is known for its literary and musical residents. Its idyllic landscape, orange and olive groves on steep cliffs overlooking the Mediterranean, served as a draw for German, English, and American expatriates after the First World War.  (Wikipedia)

This little clifftop pocket of the world is paradise. Life is slow and steamy. The beaches are rocky and hidden…requiring long gorgeous hikes and climbs down drift wood ladders to reach the shore.

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Spanish beaches are not bashful! In the background of the last picture you can see two people caked in mud. We were confused by this the first day but soon realized there was a large hole filled with clay dug out of the side of the cliff. Locals would cake themselves (ALL of themselves!) in the purifying clay, let it dry while sunbathing and then rinse it off in the extra salty, detoxifying Mediterranean Sea. It took only a few hours before Sam and I gave it a try. While we were at the clay well looking, I’m sure, particularly pasty white and American, a local man came up to show us where the best clay was. He spoke only Catalan and was completely nude! Hahahaha. It still cracks me up. He was really nice…I think. I kind of just wandered away while he spoke to Sam. Ah, Spain.

We did a fair bit of unexpected hiking. A “walk” to the locals ended up being a nerve racking hike along the cliffs on slippery paths…in sandals. I was terrified. I had no idea I had such a fear of falling. Sam would run ahead like a billy goat then come back to reassure me it was safe while I talked my feet into taking the next step. Oh, it was beautiful, though…and I’d happily do it again…in better shoes.

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What a perfect weekend…we dined on Tapas and had that on going debate of vacationers: pool or beach? My kind of getaway for sure…and with this guy…doesn’t get much better!

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One Comment leave one →
  1. nierengarten1@bp.com permalink
    January 21, 2013 5:00 pm

    Mallorca sounds dreamt! How wonderful to get away so such a neat place together. You two look so happy! I love the mud story!

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