Biniali, Majorca, Spain
Café con Leche
What else?
Bar Centro, Biniali
Okay, so the open-faced sandwich people eat on the island has a name. Yennie would just gesture her hands like a flat slice of bread and then make chomping noises to order. “Ahh! pa amb oli.” Pa am oli is more of a concept than a dish. It is a slice of bread with oil on it (it’s name is literally “bread with oil”), garnished with cheese, tomato, jamón, or whatever.
After we accompanied Sheela and Enno to the farmers market in town, which consisted of two stalls: one for fruits and vegetables, one for cheese and olives, we went to Bar Centro for breakfast/lunch (brunch isn’t a thing, here). We all ordered pa am oli with some variation. Naturally, Sheela ordered best, being the foodie that she is. She divined a scallion from her market basket and asked the barkeep to put it in her omelette, along with cheese and jamón. Such class!
We finished up breakfast/lunch by early afternoon and then we set off for the beach. Sheela asked us to give her a ride down the road to the “finca,” a farmhouse that’s been converted into an artists’ residence and community center. There is weekly yoga, African dance, and concerts. There, we saw goats, chickens, and cats wander in the brush and bramble that lined the edge of the house and an orchard of lemon trees, which we could smell from kilometers away. It was very Majorcan.
Also, very Majorcan: The Alan Parsons Project. We heard “Eye in the Sky” about 20 times - that’s not an exaggeration, on the radio. It grows on you.
Okay, so: #beachtime. We went to Son Serra de Marina, both highly recommended by Sheela and Sabine. Of course, we weren’t disappointed. The sand was soft and the water was clear. There were dunes and trees surrounding the beach. And, there were naked beachgoers - lots of naked beachgoers.
As an American, you always assume you’ll run into some nude beaches in Europe - beaches that are designated as beaches where people can swim and sun naked. Uh, we’ve learned that that isn’t a thing. Every beach is a nude beach. We felt quite prudish, covered up in our bathing suits. But, somehow, we didn’t feel compelled to get in on the action. We tried to avert our eyes and curb staring (Yennie has a staring problem), but it was impossible. Naked people everywhere. Naked people blowing up an innertube. Naked people playing paddle ball. Naked people squatting to stretch. It was like a Loehmann’s dressing room, except with men, on the beach. The first person who gets that reference gets a pa am oli, shipped overnight to them.
Of course, a visit to the beach wouldn’t be complete without a beer and some olives. We went to the beachside bar and had a few. There, the people we saw naked were clothed. And, it was - for lack of a more precise word - weird.
Our plan was to have dinner at the local restaurant in Biniali to watch the Real Madrid v. Atlético Madrid in the Champions League Final. Sabine explained that this was a big game, as it was rare to have two teams from the same city play against one another. Think: World Series, Yankees v. Mets. We had a weird assemblage of food for dinner, including a hamburger - oy vey 😑. We weren’t rooting for either team, but we quickly came to dislike Real Madrid, which has a routine flair for drama on the field. #probrecitopepe
The game went into overtime, then to penalty shots. Real Madrid wins.
We snuggled into bed, after another wonderful day of beach. Then, suddenly, we heard a noise at our window. Biniali is an incredibly quiet and safe town, so we weren’t frightened - just curious about what the noise was. We look over and see Punchi’s head sticking in our bedroom. She had opened the window and then jumped right in. She sat at the foot of our bed and refused to leave. Sabine had told us this might happened, but we didn’t believe her. How could a cockapoo open a window and then jump 3ft like that? We are in love with Punchi. We want to bring her back with us. 🐶💕
San Gabriel, Beer
Okaaay, fine.
Formerly the Reggae Bar Down the Street, Biniali
