My body was still shaking as we wound round the mountains on narrow, bending roads. My run-in with the Mallorcan police had left me in a state of shock and the last thing I wanted to do was return back to our villa. My blood was pumping through my veins, fuelled by adrenaline and frustration.
We had been forced to tackle numerous hairpin bends to reach the restaurant which was perched on the top of a mountain. Now we were continuing our journey north and as we descended the mountain we were greeted with yet more hairpin bends.
“Uhhh,” I grumbled.
“What?” Lewis gave me a sidewards glance as he navigated us round yet another tight bend, shadowed by overhanging trees.
“This would be the perfect place to fly the drone!” I wailed.
His tragic look told me that he agreed.
“Stupid rules.” I muttered.
Lewis was grouchy. He scolded me for my clumsy display earlier, especially when I took a little too long to carefully put my drone into the car.
I took off the propellers carefully, placing them into their little bag. I covered the camera with its gimbal guard and removed the battery before putting it into its own little slot. Lewis thought I was acting like I hadn’t the care in the world and was quite frankly ‘taking the piss’. Well, excuse me! I just wanted to make sure Droney was away safely.
“We should have just got out of there as fast as possible.” He spat. “Now they may have got our reg and could report us. A quick getaway would have been better.”
My response was just another grumble.
We were driving aimlessly without a plan. The road to the north took us to the town of Sóller, a beautiful town situated along Mallorca’s northern region, between towering peaks. As soon as we laid eyes upon the town, our worries melted away and we became overwhelmed with the urge to explore.
We drove down a narrow one-way street, tall terraces on either side of us. Then, in the background stood a majestic mountain. It was the perfect sight!
The streets were beautifully quiet. We parked George before we started wondering down the cobbled roads.
We were drawn to a little juice bar which made freshly-squeezed fruit juice using local organic fruits. Now, I may not be a fruit lover, but even I couldn’t resist giving one a try! I opted for a pineapple and lemon drink.
The blender rattled away, squeezing the fruits down to a pulp before filtering the juice so it wasn’t ‘bitty’ (thank goodness).
I took my first sip.
“Uh-oh.” I gasped.
“Do you like it?” Lewis asked, concerned.
“It’s amazing. I love it!” I took another slurp, amazed at the flavours that were satisfying my senses. It was so good and disappearing at an alarmingly fast rate.
“At this rate, I think I’d like another.” I smirked.
I didn’t get another juice – though that was probably for the best. I have this strange addiction to fruit juice. I never normally drink it but once I’ve had a sip, I drink myself silly. You know what they say, once you pop, you just can’t stop! Though with juice… maybe not Pringles so much.
I got over the lack of juice quickly as we entered Sóller’s main square called Plaça Constitució. A vintage tram runs through the main square which runs from Sóller town to port de Sóller which is a different town altogether that is perched on the coastline.
Sóller is nestled between looming mountains which form the Serra de Tramuntana mountain range. It is situated in a valley which is famed for its vast orange groves.
In the main square lies the beautiful Church of Sant Bartomeu, Sóller which even has orange trees outside it, a true symbol of Sóller.
After a little tootle around some of Sóller’s rustic shops, Lewis and I concluded that we had calmed ourselves enough to venture back to the villa, just in time for some much-needed dinner.
We may not have seen too much of Sóller today but what we saw left us keen to return and see more! Now it was time for the lengthy journey back down south through the island’s majestic mountain range which included driving through a tunnel that seems to stretch on forever.
I got giddy with excitement as we approached the tunnel. I’m a child at heart. Lewis and I both tried to hold our breaths for the duration of the tunnel trip. Sadly, neither of us succeeded. I actually burst out laughing as Lewis blows his cheeks out when holding his breath and looks a lot like a puffer-fish. I doubt I would have managed it anyway. At 3,023 metres in length, it was that bit too long!
