Riding a Folding Mountain Bike Around Mallorca, Will Wattles

  Part of an adventure is dealing with the unexpected, overcoming problems and coping with the bad in order to experience the joy of discovery. So my trip to Mallorca began with a distinct step down from the mundane. My flight scheduled to be a long endurance became longer when every flight was delayed and I missed a connection in Madrid that necessitated more delays. I finally arrived in Mallorca with no luggage. The luggage person told me I had to claim my bags in a separate area due to customs. I went there through a turnstile that did not permit me to return to the baggage area. My brief sense of optimism faded when the bags weren’t there either. Now I had to figure out how to get back to the baggage area to make my claim.

   That done I now headed out to find a bus and for just under 2 euros I was on my way to Palma , the main city of Mallorca . I enjoyed the bus ride as a low-price tour of the city. My seat mate couldn’t help with directions to my hotel but pointed out Chantilly , a café with free wi-fi, that I was to frequent.  I had a reservation at a place called Hostal Borondo on Borondo street . However, no one had heard of the street or the hotel. I decided to ride to the Plaza Espana and ask folks from there. Luck hit when I found a visitor information center with a bright young woman who gave me a map and directions to Hostal Borondo.  She also told me about Cappuccino, a popular coffee shop with free wi-fi.  I made a wrong turn or two on my way to the hotel but that just added to my tour of the city. When I got there the door was locked and a sign told me to phone to get it. So, I learned the pay phone system. The phone does a strange thing when you pick up the receiver,  a message appears on a screen saying it is okay to make a free call. Then, you wait and it says insert money or your card. Someone said a half euro would work so I did that and got through. A cheery voice promised to be right over. The picture on the right is of the  Hotel Majorica which bears no resemblance to any hotel I would stay in. I like quality but only if someone else is paying. In this case I just like the picture.

   A very friendly named Beverly welcomed me and my three-day reservation. We had a small problem when her credit card machine couldn’t read my card and she had no way to enter the number manually. Fortunately it could read and accepted my debit card. Once checked in I walked through the narrow streets (alleys are wider in the U.S. ) and eventually went to Cappuccino where I used the free wi-fi to send an I-made-it e-mail to Paula. Though tired I had to walk the streets for a while enjoying the elaborate Christmas lights and heavy foot traffic. I loved seeing expensive shops set along narrow streets closed to cars. When I finally went to bed it was the first time in 48 hours. I had a hard, little bed, in a tiny room with lots of ambient noise and I slept like an old dog.

   They smoke here big time. I’ve breathed more second-hand smoke in two and a half days than I have in the last two and a half years in the U. S. Some restaurants are utterly unapproachable. I’m beginning to suspect that may be part of the attraction of the ubiquitous outdoor tables. Despite it being winter people sit outside of nearly every restaurant.

   I came to Mallorca to ride my bike and take pictures but my camera and bike were lost somewhere in airline purgatory so I set off on foot. Bright sunshine made Mallorca seem like a dream as I strolled around enjoying the grand old cathedral and delightful historic city. At one point I passed by the most gnarled looking tree I’ve ever seen. It is an olive that is purported to be over 1,000 years old. I passed by an outdoor market of tents on Passeig de la Ramba. The challenge of getting around a new city with a different language increases when the language is not Castilian (Spanish) but Catalan. Thus what would be Spanish Square in English or Plaza Espana in Spanish (which is what most people seem to call it) is Placa D’espanya on the signs and there is a squiggle under that c. Looking at this as adventure, I consider the added challenge as something that makes Mallorca more exotic.

   I broke up my outings with a trek back to the Hostal to check on my bags. One call brought the good news that my bags had arrived and would be delivered some time today. They finally showed up at six, well after dark. Excited, I put the bike together and pedaled down Avenue Born to ride east on the bike trail that runs along the waterfront. Lights flashing I enjoyed the peaceful ride away from the cars and shared with a few joggers and occasional bicycle. The moon shown brightly above the bay in which lights reflected and the would seemed like it is supposed to on vacation. The cathedral lit up the hill on which it sat. 

The First Full Day   

The next morning I awoke too excited for breakfast and took off to the west on the same bike route. This took me along Gabriel Roca street with million dollar yachts on my left and 4 star hotels on the right. . The bike lane ended and I took to the road. Driving the world over seems to bring out the worst in people, however the motorists on Mallorca have been pretty good. The roads are often narrow with no shoulder as was the case as I headed through Portales Nous where I stopped for breakfast toast and eggs at a restaurant named for Fred Flintstone. As I pedaled past the resort communities of Palmanova and Magaluf I came upon a pedestrian/bikeway. Sometimes the road is faster but in this case I found them quite welcome. A few hills made me work harder and I enjoyed some great views of houses built on the side of cliffs with severe drop-offs into the sea. I followed the bike route to Santa Ponca. Wooden bike route signs gave mileage (actually kilometers) to the next town,  At places I found a map mounted on a kiosk showing bike routes both on and off road around the island. I saw a visitor information center in Santa Ponca and went in to see if I could get one of those maps. The woman was very helpful and gave me an old version of the map and several other local maps.

  The separate trail ended at Santa Ponca and, I took the road through a series of traffic circles toward Calvia. I crossed over a motorway and after a while a wooden sign directed me to the right down a one-lane paved road. At one point I saw a mountain village to my left lit up by the sun as if it were a celestial spotlight. The pavement ran out and I was glad to be on a mountain bike as I rode though groves of trees maybe carob maybe almond. At one point I stopped to look at a herd of sheep and heard only dozens of bells on the sheep,  the bleats of young lambs and maybe some wind. In Calvia I got some juice and bread in a market and took a break in a park with a intriguing history of the city on a mural on the wall. Pretty houses surrounded the park and brilliant flowers belied winter.

I continued on over a significant climb made manageable by a series of switchbacks that kept the grade moderate. After having the road to myself I hit city traffic for a few miles back to the city of Palma with the cathedral as a landmark.. I rode 48 miles that first day and saw many riders on road bikes and mountain bikes.

Day 2 Palma to Alaró

   The next day I headed off into the hinterlands. I started by riding along the waterfront for coffee at Chantilly where I had a great little window seat and free wi-fi. I had to ride a pretty busy street to make my way out of the city. Cars were okay and I found enough signs to find C713. It is known as the old road as a motorway now parallels it which helps reduce the traffic. I had no problems riding and was impressed when one car made a special effort to help me through a traffic circle. A bright sun soon displaced the few drops of rain falling as I left. Impressive mountains of the Serra de Tramuntana range reflected the light to my left as I climbed a gentle grade. I came though Santa Maria and thought to stop for lunch. I decided to continue on to Consell figuring I would make it before the black clouds ahead replaced the sun. I was wrong.

   The head wind I had been riding into began to blow so hard I felt as if I weren’t moving and rain started light and became heavy. Suddenly dark, wet, cold and wind engulfed me. As I pedaled through Consell I saw nothing open and watched as people at a flea market tried to fold tarps in the blustery weather. Already soaked I decided to push on to my destination the foothills village of Alaró . 

  I rolled into town and found a café where I got coffee and a sandwich in a modestly warm environment at the Café Alaró. After my repast I tried to get into my hotel, The C’an Tiu Ecological Hostal. As when I arrived at the Hostal Brondo in Palma no one was there and I had to phone. This time I got no answer. It later turned out the proprietor’s cell phone battery died. Several other wet cyclists stopped and knocked on the door. The didn’t have reservations as I did and continued on to who knows where. The sun came back out and to warm up I pedaled up a street unto the side of the mountain. The road soon turned very rough and I found myself in the country. Eventually I reached a gate and turned around to see a great view of the cluster of red-roofed masonry buildings that was Alaró.  Continuing up another narrow track consisting first of pavement and then of rocks set in sloppy concrete, I passed olive trees and terraced gardens. Eventually I reached the ebullient owner of the hotel and got into my room and dry clothes. I had a big meal at a very pleasant Italian restaurant called. O Sole Mio. I enjoyed the view of the quiet street and Christmas lights. Then, I tucked into bed with two blankets and thought how a week ago being able to lie down and be warm were things I took for granted.

 Day 3 Hike to Castell d’ Alaró 

Monday morning it was cold, in the 30’s and, after coffee and another bocadillo  (sandwich) at the Café Alaró, I put on a lot of clothes and took off on my bike. The time spent in the Cafe Alaro wasn't all wasted as I learned about the castle on a hill outside of town.  I passed out the main road (almost two lanes wide but with cars parked along most of it and two-way traffic) toward Inca and soon saw two steep peaks, locally called the molars, to my left. I took a left and started up a narrow paved road toward the Es Verger restaurant high on the side of a steep hill and the Castell d’ Alaró on the top of one of the molars. The road immediately began to climb and to wind back and forth in a tortuous series of switchbacks. It hardly seemed possible that a road could climb such a steep incline. Olive trees grew on both sides and black olives and a type of acorn lay in abundance on the surface. Paved for a while it soon gave way to pot holes and patches of cement that look like they were put down by someone with an attitude. Each switchback gave me a new view of the valley as it rapidly fell below me. It took nearly an hour to pedal the 3 miles to the restaurant which turned out to be a sheep farm as well. I left my bike in the parking area and proceeded to hike a steeper switchback for nearly an hour before arriving at the ruins of the fort once a Moorish stronghold. Little remains of the battlements that played a big role in slowing the 1285 invasion by king Alfonso III of Aragon . From the top of the trail I could look behind me and see the restaurant that had been so far above me and the village far in the distance.

   On the way up I had shed layer after layer of clothes and was still hot from the exertion. At the top I immediately began to cool off. Snow covered the ground and the air had a refreshing but cold bite to it. In the distance I could see Puig Major, the highest point on the massive mountain range to the west. A young hiker talked about how lucky we were to have the snow to make it all so magic. I agreed but was happy for all those layers I had removed and could now put back on.  I enjoyed that descent through the trees as much as I had the climb. I hated to leave but it was cold and I had only a snack. It’s hard to imagine anything on my trip can match this magical hike/bike outing.

Day 4 Alaró to Alcudia

   Sunshine ruled the morning as I left Alaro, headed northeast and found wonderful cycling roads. I got a great view of the molars as I rode by and it was fun to think I had been all the way to the top. I stopped to take off some clothes after a while and a couple of older men (probably my age) passed me on very expensive road bikes and wearing official road bike gear including tights. They returned my wave but generally ignored me. That seems to be the way most people here react to me. They are very willing to help when I ask directions but generally ignore me. No one has been rude, not even a motorist. Surprisingly, I later passed the cyclists in my baggy clothes and heavily loaded panniers.

   The road had some gentle hills and lots of flat. Most of the time it was a narrow two-lane road with no shoulder and no need for one because cars were rare. Sometimes it became a lane and a half or less. At times it was barely possible to pass a car coming the other way. It made me glad I wasn’t in a car. At one point I was riding along a place with a sheer drop off, it wasn’t far maybe 6 or 8 feet but there was absolutely no protection. A vehicle passed me from behind and it was a weird feeling: I couldn’t get too close the edge but, I had to move over enough for the car to get by.

   I saw and heard lots of sheep and their bells. Many of them had red stuff on their back I assume it is like a flea powder or something. I saw several of them rubbing on trees as if the powder woke up the fleas. The world felt expansive today with the bright sun and endless row of mountains. I passed through fertile valleys full of olive, almond, carob and orange trees.

   Helpful signs led me through towns including Lloseta, Binimar, Selva (shining in the sun on a hill side), Campanet and Pollenca. At Pollenca I tried to enter the Piccolo Horno (little oven) at 12:35 but they weren’t open yet. I went back at 1 and was the first customer but by the time I finished the place was packed. I was relieved to see a no smoking sign but soon noticed a young woman smoking. I had the menu of the day for 12 euros which included a big salad with tuna, spaghetti, desert, bottled water and wine (they let me substitute tea). That was a pretty reasonable dinner. Too bad the exchange rate is about $1.50 per euro now. I found another pretty road as I moved on. 

   Rain threatened as I pedaled the six miles along the coast to Alcudia. I found myself a little less cocky about the rain after Sunday. I rolled into the walled city where cars are limited and bikes welcome. I found my way through the Porta del Moll Gate to the bar-restaurant-hostal Llabres where I had tried to make an internet reservation but received no confirmation. They had rooms and I got a pretty little, newly-remodeled room with bath and heat for 36 euros a night. I had a window looking out at Constitution Plaza full of tables and chairs from the restaurants that circle the square. I checked out restaurants for wi-fi and then found it in my room.  That evening I met some friends at the St. Jaume church.

Day Five Alcudia to Port de Pollenca and back

  Day five started with a weird effort at a British breakfast. I got a fried tomato, undercooked egg, baked beans, sausage, bacon and toast along with coffee for 5 euros. I then rode out along the Alcudia peninsular. On the map it looks flat but, steep mountains fill the space and a road running along the west side goes up and down and around with great drop-offs to the surf below. The road of narrow, but smooth tarmack runs through a pine forest and has constant views of the mountains inland and on the Pollenca peninsular directly across the bay.  Once, I stopped for a picture and heard a noise. I turned and saw a kid staring at me. Before I could get a good picture he and his mother climbed up the sheer slope. The feral goats became common and their acrobatics entertained me. At points I could see portions of the road several kilometers ahead in the form of graceful curves ascending and descending the terrain.

   I rode until signs told me I was entering a forbidden military area. I always stop for signs like that. Returning on the peninsular road I passed through Bonair where boats that called  Hamburg and  London home were moored. At one point I encountered a sign indicating that the road was a dead end. I continued on and found a path that led through some bushes and along an exposed headland, rough with volcanic rock but rideable. I followed it to a dirt trail through some woods to a neighborhood and then took a makeshift road along the waterfront to get to the road I wanted. Score one for the mountain bike.

   I then took the highway with its paved shoulders along the Bay of Pollenca to the Port de Pollenca. The bay is outstanding with aqua water and bordered by two mountainous peninsulas.  The shoulder next to the coast was painted red with pictures of bicycles on it and signs indicating bike route. When I got to town I passed several bicycle parking areas. It’s nice to feel welcomed. I came upon a thriving market set up in the plaza in the center of town. I bought some apples and sat in the shade on a bench watching the people and fueling for the ride back.

Day 6 Hiking the Alcudia Peninsula

  Once again the first thing I heard this morning was a street sweeper; Mallorca might be the cleanest place I’ve ever been. Spend a couple of minutes locking your bike to a trash can and you’ll be approached by many people.

   The day began a little warmer, near 60 for the high. However the sky and the forecast were totally covered with clouds and today called for winds of 20-30 mph. So I decided to go hiking. I hoped that most of my hiking would be on the west side of the mountain while the wind was from the east-southeast. I biked back on the winding up and down roads I was on yesterday and then took a turn up a steeper road that led to a religious icon and a closed restaurant. There I hid my bike among pine trees and palmettos and started hiking.

   The whole peninsular, except for the military base on the point, is undeveloped and covered with mountains and views. My guidebook cautioned hiking without a good map but, I had no problem and encountered signs when I needed them. I first hiked to Sa Penya Roja at 345 meters. The trail started in the trees but soon took me along a steep cliff with low shrubs and grasses apparently resistant to goats. Mostly sheltered from the wind I enjoyed pleasant hiking conditions and great views all the way. I saw no one on the way up. I found a shallow cave in the rocky, red crag. On the way down I passed a couple and, as I headed for the second peak Talaia d’Alcudia, I passed a few adolescents. Other than that it was goats and horses. The latter appeared after I climbed a stile over a barbed wire fence. Some grazed on the rocky hillside but one group of four were eating from a bale of hay. I tried to get them to look at me for a picture but they seemed much more interested in the hay. The hike up the tallest (445 meters) of the peaks took me into the open on very rough ground. At one point I wound around to the east side of the peak and the wind made hiking more of a challenge. Despite the gray weather I enjoyed a fabulous view with the peaks of the  Alcudia peninsular to the north, Port de Pollenca and its mountainous peninsular to the west, Alcudia, the Bonaire boat basin and more mountains to the south. To the east I got my first look at the Port d’Alcudia, one of the most developed beaches on the island. The wind ensured my stay on the top was brief and I hiked down wishing I cold take all the other trails.

  However, it was time for lunch so I pedaled to Port d’Alcudia. On a gray, blustery day in the middle of winter it looked like a beauty pageant contestant home alone. Hundreds of tables waited for people to come eat and the pedestrian areas seemed lonesome. It appears to be a pretty nice place for a very commercialized beach resort. I found a delightful Italian Restaurant where I got Quattro estaciones which means four seasons and is a pizza with four different toppings. That’s an Italian thing but common here as well. The waitress was intrigued with my hike and assured me she would have been tired before reaching the icon.

   After lunch I pedaled around Alcudia and was surprised to see that it was possible to lean my bike against a wall and walk on sections of the crenellated wall that surround the old city. They have many restrictions on cars but, I seem to go anywhere by bike. Other than my initial bus ride from the airport all my travel has been by foot or bike. I get satisfaction out of seeing a mountain in the distance, pedaling to it, hiking to the top and pedaling back. In the picture on the right I can see the two peaks I had climbed that morning. Sometimes my view is smaller because I cover less ground but I think I see more.

Day 7 Alcudia to Puig Randa

   As I started to load my bike I noticed that a critical bolt on the rack was missing. I limped down the road with the rack rubbing on the tire and stopped at a hardware store where an energetic young woman found me just the thing and, for 20 cents, I was on my way. Thank goodness it wasn’t Sunday! That didn’t solve all my problems because the streets were wet and the forecast had changed overnight from a 20% chance or rain to a 60% chance. I pedaled along the coast past the hundreds of empty hotel rooms in Port D’Alcudia and took a right at Las Gaviotas and headed to Sa Pobla. People call this the  Marsh Road because it runs along the Albufera Nature Area, a huge wetlands protected for birds and other wildlife. I saw some birds, none that I could identify, and came to the entrance open only to pedestrians and bikes. Sadly the black clouds looming overhead made stopping a poor option.

   In Sa Pobla I saw an old windmill with a new top portion. I had seen many from the plane and was to see dozens today. Nearly all are falling apart and those that aren’t usually house a restaurant. My bike was loaded with camera and binoculars in the front pack, clothes and books in the panniers, and a backpack wrapped in a waterproof bag on the top. The latter is nice for hiking, walking around town and carrying on the plane. The road continued flat until I hit the little town of Muro , which involved a modest climb. The rest of the day the road rose and fell modestly but belying the idea that the center of the island is flat. I passed by farms and fields in a wonderful peaceful ride with little traffic. I was taking a risk by just following the map and could only guess if a given road would be pleasant. I passed fields of artichokes and potatoes.

   An old fashioned windmill and the parish church signaled my arrival in Sineu, an inviting town right in the very center of Mallorca . I took a chance with the rain and stopped for a cup of coffee and a break after 20 miles.  The restaurant had signs welcoming cyclists hanging on the wall and a few people sitting on tables outside. The streets had been wet my entire ride and I could see clouds in several directions but so far was dry.

   On my way out of town, I asked directions from a man who had walked by without looking at me. As soon as I did he smiled and took time to tell me two different routes, recommending the back roads though Lloret and Pina. Once again the route was ideal, rolling valleys and little farms with few vehicles. I came around a corner and saw a flat-topped mountain in front of me and knew that was my destination. I didn’t exactly realize that the modestly priced room I had found would commit me to such a steep climb at the end of my hike. No doubt I could do it. Right? I stopped at Eroski’s , a super market, in Algaida for some apples and juice. The old man checking out in front of me pretended to steal my food. He later said something in German I think because he thought I was German. The island is a prime destination for Germans and when I landed almost all the planes said Air  Berlin and all the gangways advertised the same airline.

  The skies threatened more than ever as I pushed on still dry. I made it to Randa, a tiny town tucked into the bottom of Puig (mount) Randa. The 5 kilometer climb kept me warm and offered wonderful views as the road ran around the mountain. The top is 542 meters (1,778 feet) and home to the Santuari de Cura or Hermitage of Cura. It was founded as a monastery the thirteenth century by reformed womanizer, Ramon Llull now a revered figure. The buildings have changed much over the years but have a grand flavor to them. I checked in to my room. I figured out how to open the two sets of shutters and get a view looking back from where I had come. I could see Algaida but the clouds were low and the view marginal. I hoped it would clear for the view before dark but instead the rain came and I can’t complain about that timing.

   When I checked in I asked the young man if the restaurant was open and he said no but that breakfast would be provided at 9 a.m. I had a small stash of food but had gambled on the restaurant. As the young man left after showing me to my room he mentioned that the bar was open until 4 and that I could get tapas (a snack.) So I went down to check it out. Well I got a menu of the day with a fabulous fish soup, a fish main course, bread, olives, sparkling water, tea and desert for 15 euros. I was the only one there and the waiter treated me very well. There is a real feeling to this place that makes it a wonderful lodging. Next Page