Days 1 and 2 had taken us from Alaro in the interior, along Cap de Formentor forming Mallorca's most northern tip, and back to the medieval town of Alcudia.
Day 3
Consulting the morning weather report, it called for an executive decision. We could continue east, but there was a window of opportunity to head west instead, and make the most of good conditions predicted for the western coast, and by far the more spectacular route. So, like the Village People, we donned our spandex shorts and helmets, and unanimously decided “Go West!”.
A 10km flat ride back to Pollensa gave stiff and aching muscles ample time to warm up, and get onto the first of the mountain passes for the day en route to Lluc Monastery. Overcast conditions made for a near perfect ride as far as comfort was concerned; another blistering hot day would be sure to takes it's toll in the long run. The 20km Lluc road would take us into a great 7,5km climb into the heights of the Serra de Trumuntana range. The long climb required a few stops for minor bike adjustments to maximise comfort in the climbs, and also to savour breathtaking views of valleys and high-lying vineyards.
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| Which Way Now? On the road from Lluc to Soller |
Nestled high up in the mountains, Lluc Monastery is Mallorca's most visited centre for religious pilgrimage. Established in the 13th century the monastery has long-served the travellers of Mallorca, as it still does today. A true sanctuary, the centre provides accommodation for pilgrims and hikers for a nominal fee. The monastery is also the site of a famous school choir, botanical garden and a chapel built in the 1600's.
Our stopover once again took the shape of a refuelling of P'amb Oli and Mallorquine pastries, and a look around the monastery grounds and chapel. We had made very good time getting up to Lluc, and therefore did not need the option of staying here overnight. The second executive decision of the day meant a push of a further 35km to Port de Soller. This we would not regret.
Lluc launched us straight into another mountain pass, the first of another three passes along this stretch, and two road tunnels en route. Once in the mountains of Mallorca there is no respite from the terrain. The routes are either up, or down; there are no flat roads, making for hard riding. Climbs of several kilometres, followed by long descents, are equally testing in terms of concentration and riding technique. Any loss of concentration, slip-up or mechanical malfunction on a descent is potentially disastrous in terms of traffic and the sheer cliff faces.
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| Gorg Blau Resevoir |
The stretch between Lluc and Port de Soller made for exciting riding. Passing closely by Gorg Blau and Cuber, two blue-green reservoirs resting in the cool mountain air, we traversed in the shadow of Puig Major, Mallorca's highest peak at 1445m. Alternating quad-crunching climbs and white-knuckle descents were only interrupted by the occasional photo opportunity, and on cue, Rosco's next puncture, that after hitting speeds of near 60km/h down the mountain. This provided the perfect opportunity to veer off the main road and descend into the narrow streets of the villages of Fornalutz, Biniaraix, and on to the town of Soller.
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| We were at Gorg Blau too... |
Another easy roll down the hill took us to our next stopover at Port de Soller. With the sunset approaching, and tourist information closed for the day, eagle-eye Rosco located a perfect apartment right on the harbour front. Salt-encrusted and sweat-drenched, our first priority was a proper electrolyte refuel, followed closely by an ice-cold beer, a snack of mixed nuts, a swim in the sea to relieve the day's aches, and a welcome orange sunset.
A leisurely stroll through Port de Soller in search of dinner brought us to the gates of Restauarante Randemar, appearing to be one of the town's more popular eateries. Staring through the walled surrounds, patrons in dinner jackets sipped their wines and chatted quietly on the terrace. Consulting the menu, we agreed that prices were clearly intended for a more upmarket clientèle, rather than two weather-beaten cyclists who had not been near any form of soap in 3 days. A few minutes debating the potential predicament and our attire of baggies, cycling tops and flip-flops, we decided to go in anyway.
For some reason we were immediately led to a table in the darkest corner of the terrace (so dark a torch was provided to read the menu!). Apparently the table with sea views were “all reserved”.
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| Lots and Lots and Lots of Llauts |
In all fairness this would turn out to be the finest meal of the trip. Our meal was complemented with an intense lesson in the social aspects, climate and geology of Port de Soller, this care of a 30 minute running commentary from our American hostess to the adjacent table. Tired and worn down by a total information overload, the curtain came down on another excellent day.
Day 4
Another beautiful day made for an early start out of Port de Soller; simply heading south along the coast to a still-to-be decided destination. Our progress during another tough day in the mountains would ultimately determine the next overnight stop.
As had become customary, the road out of Port de Soller headed straight into a mountain pass on the road to Deia. The standard breakfast of poached eggs, toast, black coffee and juice provided just the kick-start to get the climbing muscles working at short notice.
The coastal route to Deia would prove to be another spectacular part of our journey. Roads hugging the coastline meant we were squeezed between the dizzy heights of an amazing sea view on one side, and steep mountain slopes on the other. Concentrating purely on the road in front is hard to do surrounded by such diverse beauty.
The tough 10km wake-up climb took us to Deia, probably Mallorca's most famous village. Brought to light by the poet and writer Robert Graves, Deia has over the years become a Mecca for artists, writers and musicians seeking some kind of inspiration. The surrounding mountains, rugged coastline and natural light help make Deia an unavoidable stopover point.
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| Deia |
The inevitable climb out of Deia leads on to one of Mallorca's natural splendours, Sa Foradada. Here a 200m drop to sea level looks out over a rocky point with a 10m diameter hole straight through. Legend has it that anyone climbing through this hole will change sex. We would not take any chances.
Valldemossa is another of Mallorca's famous villages and a very popular tourist destination. Cobbled streets and stone houses typify this village set around the hills of the Trumuntanas. Famous residents include the composer Chopin who described Valldemossa as “the most beautiful village in the world”. Chopin might have a point, but he would certainly have complained about the service at our lunch stop. That said, the P'amb Oli, ensaimada (traditional custard-filled pastry) and pecan and fruit pies were once again the perfect refuelling choice.
During lunch, we plotted our journey south from Valldemossa, having made good time over the first stage. Of course, and right on cue, Rosco once again fell victim to a blow-out. Rosco repeatedly convinced himself that it was sabotage. I refilled the drinks bottles and watched Valldemossa's multitude of tourists go by while he finished the repair job.
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| Charming Valldemossa. Need a hand mate? |
Stage 2 of the day would take us through a further 23km of hills and descents, via Banyalbufar, to Estellencs, which we considered a possible stopover point for the night. Hugging the coast, the views remained all to impressive, somehow diluting the fact that the route was quite tough in physical terms. Photo opportunities were aplenty, with occasional stops to admire the scenery and engage in yet more 'Rosco has a another flat' related banter.
Over an ice-cream and a Coke in Estellencs there was the realisation that we were making good time, and had a fair chance of reaching the town of Andratx. With enough daylight left, we decided to go for it, leaving approximately 25km to go, and a guarantee of finding easy accommodation.
The coastal route continued for another 10km, then veered inland toward Andratx in south-west Mallorca. In this final stretch we said reluctant farewells to the stunning Serra de Trumuntana we had conquered in 2 days. As the landscape changed, a thrilling cavity-rattling 5km descent took us into the town of Andratx. With the sun still high in the west, we knew we could now push for Puerto Andratx, only 6km away on the coast. Our estimated 45km ride, had turned into 70km in a matter of three hours. This was an exceptional day's riding in terms of distance, and the diversity of terrain we had experienced.
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| Small Rewards... |
Puerto Andratx is considered one of the most beautiful natural ports in the Balearic Islands. A destination for many independent travellers, Puerto Andratx has largely managed to escape the ravages on mass tourism, and still retains the charms of a typical Mallorca port down. It is also believed to be one of the wealthiest towns on Mallorca.
Arriving too late for the tourist information office, Rosco's eagle-eyed Lonely Planet led us up a narrow side-street from the port to seemingly the only bed and breakfast in town, and well hidden in overgrown greenery. We ventured to reception, devoid of human presence. A converted front room, here hundreds of traditional ceramic plates hung in almost every free space on the walls, along with a multitude of religious tokens of Catholic devotion virtually turning the room into a shrine. An old lady quietly appeared from the shadows. Easily in her eighties, it became apparent that she was likely the sole custodian of the guest house, and had been so for a very long time.
The room we were ushered into epitomised the term rustic. The furniture was typically Mallorquine and could easily date to the mid 1900's, and before. Ceramic tiles similarly adorned the paper-thin walls. Later, we would learn that a painting of Puerto Andratx hanging in reception dated back to 1957 - this was likely also the last time that any notable renovation was done to this premises. A long day and 70km in the saddle was however enough reason to accept a clean bed and a warmish soap-free shower of any description for the night.
Mentally refreshed we hauled our weary bones down to the port to catch a stunning sunset and enjoy a couple of well-earned beers once again. Finding a restaurant via recommendation, we were not disappointed. An epic meal of pizza, traditional tapas and awesome local wines was just the thing to appease two ravenous and aching cyclists.
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| Perfect End to a Perfect Day |
Part III to follow...
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