For many years I have visited Ibiza and looked at neighboring Mallorca without great motivation.
I believe that people and places intersect us when it’s need and when the pleasure of discovery speaks louder.
It was nice to put Ibiza on stand-by this time… Ibiza waits…
We went straight to Deia, in the North of the island, with some expectation.
I had read somewhere that besides being a gypset destination, it was paradise on Earth, a charming gift from God.
Deia is in fact a charming village flanked by mountains and high hills full of pine trees, orange trees, lemon trees and olive trees on terraces that stretch out onto the sea.
The houses, all in stone, flirt with each other as if part of a real love story. The windows and doors in greens and blues slats, always closed, offers a cool temperature and a dash of color to those who live there.
And how wonderful it must be to live there. Little steps, porches, lanes, courtyards and alleys blink at the bougainvillea, cacti, fig trees and palm trees that offer shade, and not only, to the clay pots with bright green lush plants. At their doorstep you can buy freshly squeezed orange juice.
You get the i(Deia) that much has already been written, painted, suffered and loved there. You find yourself imagining – while walking up and down, turning and cutting corners, on the road and on the viewpoint – the real stories that have already taken place there, for just as you are feeling this now, others have already felt it too, and so nostalgia sinks in.
We stayed at a hostel that is over 100 years old, in the centre of the village, where we were began – and embraced – being guinea pigs to all this charm. The front views over the hills make waking up a morning ritual that sets a smile on your face.
You walk miles and miles through curves over the cliffs, feeling like a Mallorca Riviera, to wind up on rock coves (yes!… rock coves!), where little dinghies, nooks and large stones take your breath away and provide photos from all angles… all just simply beautiful and perfect.
The tapas, fish and seafood, always topped up with some “chuletas” (lamb chops), restore order on a table under the spell of the blues and greens, framed by rough and worn-out trunks.
Bring on the “cañas” (draught beer), for it is so hot!
The day ends with the final declaration of love, a magical sunset and an evening of a spectacularly perfect temperature like I’ve never felt before… With the promise that the next day it starts all over again!
The Can’s, Sa’s, Es’s, Pau’s, Se’s, are strong sounds that make Mallorca a muse of the Mediterranean, this corner of the world that I increasingly think is also mine.
Next year will be Menorca! I’m going to close this Balearic triangle that, like all love stories, requires getting into the game!
Back in a moment…
Patrícia Nunes Pereira
Loveworker at Vintage Bazaar
- Hire a small car – it will be perfect for the little streets and narrow curves.
- Stay in Deia – we chose the Villa Verde Hostal but there are others, just as picturesque and central.
- For those who are better-off, much better-off: the Belmond Residence, all a luxury…
- Visit Fornalutx, Valledemossa, Banyalbufar and Estellencs, beautiful towns not too far away.
- In Fornalutx, try the paella at the Es Turó restaurant… delicious!
- Don’t miss lunch at Cala Deia in Ca’s Patró March (book in advance!) and have dinner at the Sebastian Restaurant (book in advance!).
- There is also Es Racó d’es Teix for lovers of Michelin stars.