Funny, we are in selected, almost exclusive holiday destinations, and yet nothing stops us. On we go to Mallorca… We drive along the east coast, visit one or two inlets, look for a nice spot, find a little beach here and a nudist cove there, and at Cala d’Or we refuel.
The people seem excited and relaxed, many are here with their boats, or at least in boats, sitting together in bunches tied to the side of the bay, dangling their feet in the water and the children splashing around – wanting only to escape the shore with its sometimes draconian corona restrictions. Here on the water, it’s a different world, here you can be as you please.
I can understand all those who want to get away from home and get a bit of freedom back. But just when it’s so crowded out here (in the sheltered bays), we don’t find it particularly exhilarating.
Then, in the largest bay of about 500 m in diameter, we dock anyway, moor in the middle of it at a buoy, go swimming, enjoy the beautiful weather. According to my calendar, it has long since become autumn, but it feels like a nice, pleasant summer (in the baking hot height of summer, it would probably be too warm for me here; as it is now, it is wonderful).
Even if it looks nice here along the coast and in the bays, all the white plastered holiday homes and coastal hotels, we continue to Menorca. Straight to Ciutadella. – The petrol station is out of order, the royal marina too snobbish, and the harbour master of the public harbour is already off duty. So we park without registering, browse through the town, enjoy the intense blue glow of the day’s remaining light, and enjoy a delicious paella with seafood in one of the harbour taverns.
I’m doing fine.