Revisiting the Poetry of Mallorca

My first time in Mallorca, I traveled with my mom. I was young and we explored many different parts of the island. We spent our days by the beach, feeling the sun on our skin, visiting small towns, having an apero at sundown overlooking the sea. We took an old train through tight streets lined with lemon trees and cafe-goers waving as we crossed paths. We got lost on our way to a cala and ended up in a rural neighborhood only to discover a vast rock formation facing an infinitely deep blue horizon.

I remember thinking to myself that this was where I would retire. When all the hard work of building my career was achieved, I’d go back there. The landscape called to me; it was the perfect balance of countryside and island life.

Upon visiting Valldemossa, I saw a woman painting on her easel through two doorways. I never forgot about her. I came back six years later to find her still there. In the same chair, same shop.

This time, six years later, I came back with my partner on a birthday trip. He’s an artist: an illustrator and creative mind. When we first met, we exchanged words about how Mallorca was a dream end goal. We bonded over that. It was only fitting that we visit it together. 

We hopped in a camper van and explored the island, hopping from one sleeper site to another. We showered nude behind our van, with the sea as our only witness. We bought beers at the local refuge in exchange for using their bathrooms. We had nowhere to be, guided by instinct. When night fell, we found a cliffside. It was freeing to explore Mallorca this way.

Our plan was simple. It consisted of going to the beach every day and seeing the sunset at every sleeper spot we landed on. I took photographs, and he drew scenes of life on the island.

We had just two “to see & do” items on our list: Joan Miró’s studio and Hotel Corazón, a hotel by photographer Kate Bellm and her husband, artist Edgar Lopez. We also spontaneously met with the owner of Pith, a design and manufacturing studio specializing in paper materials for creators, whom my partner knows because he uses their sketchbooks.

We lived inspired and invigorated by the Vitamin D on our skin, exploring artist spaces and connecting with creatives who, just like us, are drawn to the island. 

Now, when I think about it, it’s not where I want to retire, but where I want to settle. Where I want to create from. Where I want to open my own gallery and cafe, where all our friends and neighbors come to. To chat, to inspire, to exchange ideas, to share their art.

I’ve been to Mallorca at different moments in my life, and what moves me is not just how it changes, but how recognizably it remains itself, every time.