So we arrived in the house, having navigated the cycling race. I have googled and googled the race and found nothing. When we had left in the morning there were loads of cyclists going round the circuit. A few people watching. When we got back there were fewer on the road but more spectators on the pavement, young and old.
We decided to go down to the square to see what was happening. It had been decked out with a stage etc.
When we left the house there were even less cyclists, a motorbike at their front and a car at the rear. It had going on for hours, I wondered if it could be an endurance ride, the winner being the one who fights it out to the bitter end.
The circuit wasn’t lengthy so we saw the same people going round and round.
There was a stall set out with the hugest trophy and hampers of local produce. We sat outside a bar, sipping red wine and people watchers, still clueless as to what it was all a out.
Then a great furore as the winners were announced.
The whole square became livelier. It was great to be part of it all, albeit as baffled onlookers. At about 10, the staff from the bar began to put out cutlery, etc, on the tables, and everyone started eating. They brought us olives, cheese and bread. Some olives had a bbq tang, which was an odd flavour combination but delicious in a strange way.
And so to bed…..
The next morning, I was playing with Bea, and Pete started shouting from the bathroom. The bathroom had flooded while he was showering. The shower is very fancy, so fancy that we couldn’t find a plug hole. After some time exploring, Pete realised that part of the shower floor came away, but it only exposed a thin slit. What proceeded felt like an elaborate operation, as I ran backwards and forwards from various pokey instruments, all the while sloshing back through the bathroom floor.
Pete managed to get some of the culprits, seaweed! So, despite showering at the beach the previous day, I still managed to bring a sizeable quantity back with me. As I previously mentioned, the house has everything, so after a bit of poking around I found some drain unblocker, which made me feel tonnes better as it made me realise that this was not such an isolated occurance.
I think I forgot to share an image of a lovely sculpture from the beach yesterday by Joan Bennassar.
He is a Mallorcan artist and sculptor, inspired y the Mediterranean, with sculptures running along the coastline.
After all the bathroom excitement we had croissants, etc, that Pete had bought from the local bakery on his daily early morning cycle rides.
I had heard that the market in Sa Pobla was really something not to be missed. I hyped it up with everyone, and so it was a done deal, Expectations were high, too, too high!
The first few stalls we saw were full of cheap clothes, knickers and garish towels. Then we saw a stall selling all types of birds and gorgeous white bunny rabbits.
This wasn’t a stall selling pets. It was for consumption. The baby ducks looked so forlorn. It reminded me of a visit in France to a farm. The farmer had rescued a baby deer in the forest, wherever the farmer went, the deer followed. It was a big love affair! The farmer then took us round the farm, opening a large barn to room full of bouncing and frolicking rabbits. Stupidly, I thought these were pets, as he had shown so much benevolence to the deer. Laughing heartily, he explained they were livestock to be killed.
The rest of the stalls sold fresh produce, but nothing very exciting.
To add some fun to the day we went to a cafe by the square,opposite a large banner. Something to do with women in Mallorca being victims of sexist violence.
One in every 100 women in the Balearic Islands is a victim of sexist violence according to new data from the General Council of the Judiciary. 1,085 Protection Orders were issued last year for women whose lives were at risk and 5,368 battered women reported gender abuse. That´s 3.7% more than in 2016.
The heat has ramped up quite a bit. We had thought of going to a beach, but decided that staying at home, relaxing and chilling out would be a better option.
Later that night we had a cool beer in the square, after walking round a bit more Llubi.
Random Acts of Travelling 