Mrs CT and I have managed to get 5 days away together, squeezed in between ridiculous travelling schedules. Even then we couldn’t travel together. She travelling from Luton at 6am and me joining her at the hotel at 11pm via Düsseldorf. An interesting 2 hour journey with CondorAir and 150 over excited German holiday makers.
So onto the Hotel Aimia, a quiet little boutique affair one street back from the promenade and only 20 other guests. We came here 10 years ago so knew what to expect – peace and no fights for the sun beds.
The hotel is in Port de Soller, nestled at the bottom of the Tramuntana hills in the NW of Majorca. Anyone who has been here will instantly recognise the transport below. An early 20th century tram that runs between the port and the main town of Soller.
As we are only here for 5 days, we had a busy schedule ahead – out and about in the mornings and retiring to the sunbeds in the heat of the afternoon. Just like the UK at the moment, the weather is unseasonably hot at 31c. So off on our first outing a shopping/cultural trip to Soller. Beautiful architecture and little streets to explore. Many interesting little shops and far too many ladies boutiques!
So after Mrs CT had bought several gorgeous floaty numbers, refuge was found at one of the several Tapas bars surrounding the central cathedral square. Preparations were underway for the Festival of the Orange. Beer, gin and tapas dishes were consumed.At this point my indifference to certain people and their behaviour sprung forth. I have several friends who are cyclists and even I have been known to mount my two wheeled metal steed and pedal forth. Majorca has become well known for serious partakers of this particular pastime and Soller a stop off point for a spot of lunch. Multi coloured jerseys, metres of stretched Lycra and fluorescent shoes are the uniform of choice
However, it is one thing to sit there in your scrotum stuffed cycling Lycra but to actually keep your helmet and gloves on whilst consuming lunch is ridiculous posing at its worst. What are you expecting, a dangerous head height flying ham baguette. FFS it’s lunch, stop looking like a prat.
Any way, rant over. Back aboard the tram for a leisurely 20 minute journey back down to the coast via the lemon and orange laden back gardens of the town.
Poolside for the afternoon. Not a lot of other guests here, so chances for story telling a little limited. Maybe 20 other guests, 6 English, 6 Belgian and the rest Spanish. As you can see from the following, the pool is set in a 2000 sq/m decked area with lovely matching wooden beds and tables.
Only one day into our short little holiday and a fellow guest was exhibiting some annoying habits. Fiona the Furniture Fidget was a disturbing pain in the a$$. Every 5 minutes or so she insisted in dragging her sunbed into a new and presumably astromically aligned position. And when I say dragging I mean ear piercingly screeching wood on wood noise. Sit down, keep quiet and don’t move would be my particular advice.
By the way, if you are wondering what happened to day 1, it was spent travelling. I could tell you a lot about my fellow German passengers aboard Condor 16514 but as I work for a German company this would not be an acceptable thing to do.
I will leave you with an image of dog walking Majorca style. Strap a handle and some wheels to a pet carrier and off you go!