It is hard to get my head around this villa. I have found a shady spot by the pool to write in but looking at empty sun loungers and an empty pool seems wrong somehow. I don’t expect I will be left alone for long, my always moving god son is near and I’m sure a request for table-tennis will be coming soon.
To my right a cock crows though what is so exciting about ten o’clock in the morning only the bird knows. The pool has an infinity edge looking north-east. I think it would be more effective if it looked out to sea but this view is punctuated by light green bushes a few feet for the edge so any illusion of an infinite pool is lost. The edge though does provide a nice shallow ledge for the local birds to bath; it’s quite a fun sight watching a dozen birds line up to take a bath. I am hoping the performance will begin again soon now that I am nearer because so far I’ve only be able to describe them a wagtails from their roller coaster flight pattern.
I am content and happy in this villa. For the third day running the sun is shining and there is no wind to speak of. I hope the UV light will give a boost to the psoriasis battle.
I was in a grumpy mood when we first picked up the keys to the villa. We had to find the shop in Polensa and it being an ancient town, parking was sparse and the small roads meant a one-way system was in force. I passed the shop without knowing it and after one abortive attempt found a parking space to leave the car. We walked back to the square where the shop was located and spotted a member of our party from the other car in the distance. On the way we had passed a café selling tapas, and another that was grilling steaks on an open fire, both had plenty of Spanish speakers at the tables so I had high hopes of my first Mallorcan meal. It was not to be. The villa owner suggested we go to the main square as there were plenty of restaurants there to choose from, and so that is where we went.
The first restaurant was Italian so after a cursory glance at the menu I moved on to find something more Spanish. Apparently the Italian would do though, because the kids could all find something they liked on the menu. Really? Not only are we at the most expensive area to eat in town but we can’t even be bothered to look at the other dozen or so restaurants about us. I feel like a teenager myself, wanting to insist the kids try something local, but they are hungry and I have to remind myself that this is a kid centric holiday like we used to do with our family.
They choose a table and I decide that I need my laptop which I left in the car because if I don’t start writing soon I am going to explode in some manner and that wouldn’t exactly be a good start to the holiday. “I’ll be back in a minute,” I say. Halfway back to the car I remember that I have a notebook in my pocket which feels like a better bet to use during lunch so I turn round and head back. I notice that the bakery shop that caught my eye before because it sold empanadas is actually owned by the Italian restaurant. I find this confusing when there is no Spanish food on the menu.
Back at the table I find a seat and look through the menus. I decide that the set menu will do and reluctantly choose a goats cheese salad as starter and rigatoni for my main course. I refuse to have a pudding due to costs. The kids seem to be endlessly discussing what they might have and this combined with the general noise levels of the square does little to lighten my mood. I start making notes in my book, recognising that it is my anxiety levels that is driving my judgemental mood and slowly by the time the freshly baked roll arrives, I begin to calm down. The roll is delicious and as I much it, I recognise that most of my anxieties have lifted and now I am only left with a headache.
By the evening my mood has lifted though I still don’t feel quite right. The villa is amazing. There is plenty of nooks and crannies where I can sit and write. We have an 11 metre outside pool and an 5 metre square Jacuzzi inside with an exercise bike, perhaps the latter is a rainy day alternative to pounding up and down the hills for those cycling enthusiasts. The kitchen is large and there is beer in one fridge and two bottles of wine on the table. A cleaner will come most days to tidy up. We have a veranda with a seating area and BBQ at one end and a large long table and chairs for eating out meals outside.
Our room is full of light, spacious with its own armchairs, large satellite TV and a balcony larger than the sleeping room with its own sun loungers and another sofa. There is no en-suite but ten metres down the hall is hardly a long way to go. There are five more bedrooms, all doubles and all larger than our bedroom at home. There is a more formal sitting room too with another large table and leather chairs to one side and several sofas focused on a large fireplace on the other. Perhaps my favourite feature is a ten panel solar photovoltaic array by the swimming pool, these are my first panels that I have seen on this island; it seems crazy to me that not more energy is generated in these sunny climes this way.
That night whilst everyone else has gone to bed I resume my new favourite writing place by the BBQ on the veranda. From here I can see the bay and harbour at Porte de Polensa and its flashing lights. I can see the hills behind the town as well as hills to my right. To the west there must be a holiday resort because there is a shouting DJ and thumping music for the Ibiza like experience. I do my best to ignore it. Elsewhere sheep move around their bells highlighting their location.
The environs around the villa are all lit up which is nice from a midnight swim point of view but not so great I realise later for looking at the stars. The lights must be on a timer because nobody can find a switch. I try to take some pictures of the nearly full moon through the pines trees, but fail to get my phone to respond and find the washing line instead. I am not used to spending late nights by myself and miss my video game playing buddies. I message them to tell them that and then head off to the Jacuzzi to see if I can get it working. I cannot, instead I try out the exercise bike for twenty minutes, expending 450 calories and travelling 6.4km (I think). The Jacuzzi is cool but that is no bad thing once I have taken the plunge. I head to bed. I could get used to this place.
In the background I can hear JJ playing table tennis with this sister. I have a reprieve, now do I sleep or swim as my writing reward?