A Med without sunbeds: Kay Burley finds Majorca has a lot to offer pale-skinned Brits
When I was younger, Majorca was the ideal affordable getaway to the sun. I’d spend all day lying on a sunbed or on the beach, exposing my pale skin to harmful UV rays.
Now that I’m more aware of the dangers, I assumed Majorca would no longer be appealing. I was wrong.
Head for the hills: Kay trekked down through the hills around Deia to a secluded cove
Our holiday got off to a brilliant start with probably the best cabin services director I have ever flown with. He enticed me into posing in ridiculous sunglasses – and immediately tweeted the photo.
After arriving in the hills around Deia, we trekked down to a secluded cove. Passing goats with huge bells around their necks, we discovered a wonderful fish restaurant.
The walk back up to the village was more gruelling, but we were distracted by the beautiful properties spilling down the steep hillside and rewarded at the top with views from the picturesque churchyard of Sant Joan Baptista.
Hilly terrain: Valldemossa is a training area for Team Sky cyclists and is the highest village in the Balearics
It’s the last resting place of I, Claudius author Robert Graves, who lived in Deia for more than half a century. Studying a local map, I recognised the name Valldemossa. It’s a training area for Team Sky cyclists, which meant the terrain had to be very hilly.
In fact Valldemossa is the highest village in the Balearics. Once home to Chopin and his female lover George Sand, it has World Heritage Site status and does draw the tourists, so it’s best to visit earlier in the day. We took a stroll around the quieter side of the town and were charmed to hear the unmistakable sound of tapping on an old manual typewriter.
Stark contrast: Kay found Palma, the island’s capital, to be rather fast-paced
Next day we yomped 12 miles along the coast to Soller, passing orange groves. Enjoying a beer in the main square, we saw children’s faces ablaze with delight as they took a tram from the town to the port. We travelled on to Palma, the island’s capital, on the 100-year-old narrowgauge railway through the Sierra de Alfàbia mountains.
The contrast was stark: Palma was fast-paced, so we walked until the city was far behind. We found Bungalow, a restaurant serving the best paella I’ve tasted, and reflected on how much Majorca has to offer pale-skinned Brits.
Source: Mail Online