This post was originally written on Sunday 16th October, at a more reasonable hour this time.

The last full day in Majorca means more sun, more beach, more food, and of course…MORE BEER!

Organisational skills are on point, as after a 1am return to the hotel from Son Amar, it was a 7am wake up call, ready to be picked up by the coach just after 8am for our second excursion of the island. Following on from the Western Excursion on Thursday, this time we were set to explore the North of the island. The bar had been set incredibly high after the insightful and entertaining tour on Thursday, which was almost immediately met when we discovered our tour guide from before, Vivi.

Vivi was once again nothing short of fantastic, she is a native to the island and so is able to offer us a rich and knowledgable history of the island. I mentioned previously her multi-lingual skills, which aid her in leading tours not only in English, but in French and German as well, all in the same week. She is able to lead the tours, delivering the exact same high quality level of customer service in all manner of languages. She did however tell us that our language was her favourite… which she also told the Germans the day before, and the French the day before that.

As I mentioned, our excursion took us to the North of the island, to the town of Pollenca on market day, which gave us a real chance to browse and purchase genuine home grown Majorcan foods…along with a fan that has the words Majorca on it. Along with a stunning church at the end of the market, almost TARDIS like in its nature to somehow cram a foreboding interior into an innocent looking exterior.

Whilst I am not a Religious man, I find the design and architecture of religous buildings to be truly beautiful.

A monument lay at the top of 300-400 steps, at the end of the town. I wish I could say we made it to the top, and seeing as this is my blog and I can write whatever the hell I want, I’ll say we did. We managed to walk all the way up those steps, no sweat – seriously it’s amazing, despite each step bringing us closer to the sun, we did not sweat once, it was no big deal, piece of cake really.

P.O.V shot of me dying on the steps.

Why don’t we have any pictures from the top? Well because the monument and the view was so great that the cameras simply melted in the power of its awesomeness like the ark of the covenant, and it totally isn’t because we gave up half way through and went back down to get a smoothie… (Though as we went half way up, then half way down, that technically means we walked the whole thing – well done us!)

We once again found our lives in the hands of another Daredevil coach driver, this time in the form of Francisco. He took us up an even narrower, winder, and steeper mountain path which made the ones from Thursday look like a Mushroom Cup Level on Mario Kart. It was worth it to reach the top and take in a literally breathtaking (The air was a lot thinner up there) view of the island and the ocean below us.

Nothing like a sign like this to make a person with a fear of falling feel at ease…


This area is naturally a place of high tourist population (pardon the pun), not aided by a tiny carpark, which the skilled Francisco was forced to undergo a twenty point turn, in a coach, in order to get us back down the hill. This was further hindered by inpatient tourists getting in his way, including an angry German woman shouting at us, before driving off and flipping us off out the window, and getting her young child to do the same (She joins the ranks of giving tourists a bad name, along with the other German family currently chowing down on Raw octopus).

Vivi and Francisco fought against the tide of opposing traffic, to miraculously get us down the mountain safely and to Port Pollenca. A 40 minute walk from our coach stop would have taken us to the famous and luxury 5 star Hotel Formento, a place which had been visited by the likes of Agatha Christie, Charlton Heston, Winston Churchill, and Charlie Chaplin to name but a few (Granted they didn’t all visit at the same time, but can you manage the holiday if they did? I’m sure Agatha would have led the boys on a late night excursion to Magaluf, the little minx – Idea for a book, Agatha Christie takes Churchy, Charlie Chappers and the Hest to Magaluf).

We stopped off at the port side town for lunch and choosing not learn from the mistakes of our Western Excursion, we used this time wisely to walk along the beach for 10 minutes, find a seafood restaurant and stock up on beer.

Pretty sure I pull this pose in 75% of my photos

Granted this time we had longer than 5 minutes to eat, meaning we were able to fully appreciate the food this time around. Also, replacing the Paella I was close to ordering again, we opted to pick blindly and went for a Fideau – A paella-esque dish, with gorgeous pasta replacing the rice. My God, I could have lived off of it for the rest of my life (Truly mouth watering, I am salivating over the keyboard just thinking about it- Oh great my laptop has short circuited -dfnjsndfsfs……..)

Despite the fact we had a longer duration to spend walking the beach, catching the sites, and sitting by the beach enjoying one of the best meals this island had to offer, we still found ourselves running for the coach at the very end, for fear of being left behind…Though again, I can think of worse places to be standard.

This tour, once again, took us to parts of the island that I would have unlikely been able to reach had this not been made available to us. We took in some beautiful sights, along the way we received a rich and luscious history lesson on the island and the stories behind it, thanks to our truly amazing tour guide. We were honoured and privileged to be in her company for two whole days of our holiday.

If you ever take a tour in Majorca, and have Vivi as your guide, then trust me you are in for a treat, and then some.

This marks our last full day in Majoroca, for tomorrow we fly home. I am not coping with this one bit… I must drink the numb the pain!

I’m sorry Mr. Liver, please forgive me.