After completing our familiar rhythm of morning drinks, piano and breakfast, we departed the hotel on foot to rendezvous at the bus stop we’d discovered the previous evening. Much like some English buses, the timetable provided a guide, more than a fixed running order. The stop we were waiting at serves two routes. When the other bus arrived unexpectedly, we observed it was running 11 minutes late. Thankfully our bus was only five minutes late. Our first stop was in Santa Ponca, a town set back from the beach. Despite the beach being only a few hundred metres away, the town had a distinctly urban feel to it, due to the mix of dentists, estate agents, supermarkets, restaurants and other businesses you’d find in many English high streets. There was also a large Turkish Kebab restaurant which caught Liz’s eye. The bus drove a loop in Santa Ponca, before returning to the main road and onwards to Calvià. Our journey along the main road didn’t last long as we quickly turned off into a massive trading estate, filled with large premises selling outdoor furniture, wine merchants, building supplies, car repairs, and decorating supplies to name just a few. With the exception of the wine merchant, it’d seemed pretty average until we cruised past the boatyard! The bus weaved its way along a road with cars parked on both sides at such a pace, that it was clear the driver was very comfortable with his surroundings and knew the width and turning circle of the bus really well. The next stop was at an orchard. Your scribe isn’t sure, but the trees felt more like almonds than olive trees. It was hard to tell from this distance, but the lack of the classic olive gnarly trunks and flashes of silvery leaves suggested they were more likely to be almond trees. 

Calvia is a small market village / town set on a hillside, with the church of Saint Jean Baptiste acting as the focal point. The market stools were huddled in the square at the foot of the church, which was up a flight of steps. There were only a dozen stalls, but a good mix of handbags, belts, hats, clothing, bakery items, fruit and veg, and a plant stall. Tim wandered off (classic Tim) and returned a few minutes later beaming. “There’s a stall up there selling roast chicken and roast potatoes” he exclaimed, pointing behind him. Having already ogled the pasties, we asked what flavour they were and Tim bought a chicken one, before he could change his mind and partake of a chicken dinner. Your scribe had an exotic smoothie with orange, mango, dragon fruit and passion fruit topped with an outrageously large floral garnish.

The pasties which were in front of the 2.80 sign were the chicken ones.

Once we’d finished our stroll around the town, we headed back to the bus stop which was below a row of large trees, providing some welcome shade. While we were waiting for the bus, we spotted a cluster of small black bags cable tied to the fence. A few minutes later a council employee arrived to refresh the supply of doggie bags. Quite a bonus for dog owners, eh?

In typical fashion, the journey back to the bus stop around the corner from our hotel seemed very rapid. All too soon we were alighting on the pavement for the short stroll back to the pool bar. And our usual slot for lunch.

After lunch, we ambled down to the beach and parked Tim in the shade while the three of us went for a paddle along the beach. We sat on the sand for a while listening to the waves lapping on the shore and the gulls crying above us. The gentle breeze that had engulfed the island today was welcome and only served to make the experience more enjoyable. 

Once we’d sat for long enough to satisfy ourselves we headed to the ice cream parlour (which was the sole motivation for one of our group leaving the hotel,) a short walk from the beach. When everyone had ordered their flavours, you’d have been forgiven for thinking they were playing some kind of kids’ party game involving swapping the thing you previously held. This time Char had the liquorice, Liz had the banana, and Tim had the passion fruit. To avoid being a part of this culinary swap shop, your scribe had coconut and dulce de leche which was reminiscent of Carnation caramel but not as sweet.

Back at the hotel, we forced ourselves to partake of several rounds of drinks, in order to remain hydrated under the hot afternoon sun. Strictly for medicinal purposes, and to avoid needing to consult with the local doctor. Char bravely led the way and demonstrated her skills, which dear reader, were considerable and must have been honed over many years. 

As with every other day, the afternoon crept past and we soon found ourselves sitting in the lounge bar sipping pre-dinner drinks. Dinner tonight was a medley of Mexican dishes, which were reasonably well received. After we’d eaten and taken a walk we sat in the bar for a while and then retired to our room for an evening coffee.

Good night!