Ballers in Palma

If the Queen can celebrate her Jubilee over the course of a few months, then I can do the same with my birthday. Okay, so I won't go quite that far, but seeing as though my birthday was on May 8th, I do seem to be making the most of it: case and point, a weekend in Palma de Mallorca, a full two weeks after the anniversary of my birth! Hey, I've been working hard, the weather in London was crap and the pull of chorizo, ensaimadas and pulp was too much to resist...

And so the celebrations commenced.

We checked into the Wallpaper* City Guide-recommended Hotel Tres, run by Scandinavian Svenn Rudow. Set in the centre of town in a modern structure adjoined to the remnants of a 16th century palace, the hotel encompassed everything I expected Palma to be; historical, with a modern twist and a bucket-load of design savvy.




The city was easy to cover by foot, as we quickly found out after completing an open-top bus tour. Now, I'm aware many travellers dismiss such tours as cheesy, touristy and overpriced, but in my opinion there is a reason they do so well- they give a great overview of a city, allow one to get one's bearings quickly, and, if you are clever, are a great mode of quick, pain-free transport around a new city, allowing you to be dropped off at central points with a guaranteed seat (Tip: buy a ticket that covers 24 hours- i.e. 13:00-12:00- rather than one day. This way, if you are in town for just a weekend, you really will get a lot for your money). We toured the old town Pueblo Espanol, which was beautiful and took in some stunning vistas from the city's top peaks.  


And then we ate...


Finding a good spot to eat was a little harder than I expected. Yes, I did my research in advance, but as prepared as I was, sometimes you just want to disregard the itinerary and see where you end up. Palma is a hotspot for Brits, Germans and Scandinavians and as such, many of the eateries in the city are geared toward this clientele. This results in some horrors; food being passed off as 'Spanish' that would make the average espanole blush. You know what I'm talking about. Then there's the burgers (not that there's anything wrong with a burger, done well!), bland sausages, chips, etc. Yuck. And then there were the tapas bars which looked reasonable enough, but something about the fact that the menus were in English and German (and not Spanish), set alarm bells ringing.

So we asked the locals.

Two people recommended Lizzaran, which I took as a good sign. Even more encouraging was the fact that when we arrived, at lunchtime, the spot was buzzing with local people. The eatery was a tapas bar, but not in the traditional sense- the bar was only a small aspect of the venue and most people were seated at tables and offered waiter service. And as you can see below, the portions were hardly typical of tapas!

The. Food. Was. Amazeballs.









Champinones, entonces pan con tomate, entonces gambas, entonces calamares, entonces patatas bravas, entonces pulpo a la gallega.

YUM!

This was all followed by dessert at the historic Horno Santo Cristo. I went for the custard tartina (bottom), even though they are most known for their ensaimadas, which my mum got. The bakery- sorry, pasterleria- is easily recognisable for it's old bicycle out at the front, with the ensaimada boxes strapped to the back. I guess this is how they transported the treats- the famous famous pastry on the island- back in the day.





After this calorie fest, a walk around the city was due, starting with the 17th century La Seu, which has to be seen to be believed...


From there we walked around the centre, where the cathedral is based, and the district of Sa Llotja nearby.

If could choose one thing that I love about Spain (other than the food. And the weather. And Rafa Nadal...okay I digress), it would be the long, lazy afternoon walks that you can take in town centres. You see it in Madrid, you se it in Seville and I saw it here in Palma. It seems de rigeur for locals to take the streets at around 5pm for a nice leisurely stroll. I'm probably romanticising this- after all, people work- but it's so charming to see people just taking time to slowly walk and observe their city. And just be. This isn't something you see in London. I especially love it when you see the Spanish pensioners taking their early evening walks. Let me tell you something. Spanish old people have SWAGGER. They way they drape their jackets over their shoulders. The oversized tinted glassed. The tweed in 26 degree heat. Pure. Swag.









Stay tuned for my visit to Mercar Olivar and who I saw when I got back to London... 

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