Got to Gatwick early yesterday, but the flight was late. A gratis text first thing had confirmed the flight time, but apart from an uncalled-for advert for exchange services when we got to the airport, there was no info text about the delay. So EasyJet were true to type.
Airbus A319 pushed back at 1307, took off at 1320, and an uneventful flight.
Snow-covered lumpy bits (the Pyrenees)In Palma we lost the bus station. Where it had been last time we were here two years ago was now a car park. We found it in the end - underground. Caught the bus through the tunnel out to Sóller and on to Port de Sóller - which felt, Steve said, like coming home ("It feels as if we haven't been away, as if we just popped into Palma for the day").
By 7pm we were on the balcony gazing out across the small bay to the lighthouses.We went for a wander. Marley's had gone, and Ses Oliveres was closed, but, after some unpleasantness at one restaurant where we were pushed out by some Germans, we ate well, and returned for bed.
This morning at breakfast was every species of German on show: the rude ones, the arrogant ones, the intimidating ones. And the ugly ones. But there are no towels on the sun-loungers, at least yet.
Despite the fact that it's dull yet warm, several tram-loads of day-trippers have arrived from Sóller. Steve has studied this morning, so it's time to go and seek a decent cup of Mallorcan coffee.
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