Happily sited between two Mallorcan tourist dreams!

Double Vision with Charlie Adley

I’m sitting in the middle, unusual ground for your scribbler to occupy but delighted to have around me the excited gabbles, mutters and squeals of Mallorcan families.

Creperia Gelateria Es Cucurutxo is my new my favourite place. A short stroll from here will bring you to the gently posh harbour of Porto Colom on Mallorca’s east coast, where well-ironed Swiss Germans sit looking disinterested, while watching the masts of their yachts bob around in the marina as they eat extravagantly expensive restaurant food (€16 for a dessert? Who are you kidding? Equally, oy, what a dessert!)

Stroll as far the other way from Es Cucurutxo, and you’ll be greeted by the familiar sights of mass tourism, thankfully without the masses. Cala Marçal is a tiny place, built around a teardrop beach, but although the scale is small the style is high-rise all-inclusive cheap family holidays.

The Snapper and I don’t belong in either camp, so we’re thrilled to have our own gaff, with its private wee pool.

Mostly we’re just incredibly thankful to be having a holiday. Many years we can’t afford it but this summer the financial issues were outweighed by the needs of your Scribbler. I had to have a break, and so we did; a most wonderful and mysterious holiday in which everything was mirrored by an opposite.

Before arriving in Mallorca we enjoyed a full-on weekend celebrating the birthdays and existence of several members of our families. Staying in three different hotels in five nights we enjoyed every manic busy second.

More of that next week, but for now we’re here, in the calm oasis of Porto Colom, where we do nothing at all for a week in our yin-yang holiday.

The air is hot but the breeze is cool.

The side roads are massive but there are few cars.

Over in Porto Colom they pay up to €200 for dinner, while 1 km away in Cala Marçal you can eat half a chicken, chips and salad, drink two pints of John Smiths and still have change from €15.

In the mornings I nip off to Cala Marçal to pick up a paper, but sadly only the Germans in Porto Colom get a chance to read news.

To read Charlie’s column in full, please see this week’s Galway City Tribune.