IaninSheffield
Veteran
- Location
- Sheffield, UK
This isn’t an account of a ‘proper tour’ and I pondered for a while whether it rightly has a place within this section but it is a travelogue so I guess it fits. It’s an account I wrote of a trip I made back in November when the weather was warmer, the days were longer and I was younger … well, by a coupla months anyway. I wrote the account contemporaneously so the tenses might flip back and forth - apologies for that! Maybe it might help folks who have wondered about heading out to the Balearics or refresh the memories of those who’ve already enjoyed their delights.
Prologue
For the past few years my good friend and cycling buddy, Paul, has headed out to Mallorca with a few fellow members of his cycling club for a week’s warmish cycling during what, in the UK, tend to be the cooler spring months. A hotel provides their base, they have day rides around different parts of the island, and enjoy convivial times in the evening. I joined them one year on a summer trip to the French Alps and they’re a lovely bunch of folks, but mostly progress at a quicker pace than I prefer. Paul always speaks highly of Mallorca, both the cycling and the place, so I figured I too might enjoy a solo visit, so I could explore places at a pace more suited to my needs and desires.
Last year, November 2022, I had just such a trip booked and was ready to roll but unbeknownst to me I’d clearly angered the gods. With my bike boxed and loaded in the car, suitcase packed, and just hand luggage to finalise, I got a call from one of the hospital consultants with whom I’ve recently become acquainted. A slot had opened up for a procedure I needed … the following week right in the middle of when I should have been cycling the hills of Mallorca. I could have declined of course, but for better or worse I had on my sensible head and with only eight hours until I was supposed to leave, I decided to cancel the trip. Having been rather hobbled by two years of the pandemic and one thing or another, this was my first chance to treat myself but alas it had to be consigned to the back burner. Now, however, it’s not only returned to the front of the hob but is ready to serve.
I booked with Jet2 and am flying from Manchester airport to Palma airport where I’ll transfer to my hotel in Puerto Alcudia on the other side of the island. From what I’ve found, this location offers access to a wide variety of rides heading up into the Tramuntana mountains in the north or across the central rolling plains. I opted for a package deal which, in addition to the air fare, includes a half-board stay at a hotel with all the amenities a normal holidaymaker might expect but also serves the needs of cyclists Compared with my usual trips away, this will be a real luxury! At least I hope so.
Those of a certain age are more likely to recognise the source of my choice of title. For those who never experienced the big hair and shoulder pads of the '80's:
Prologue
For the past few years my good friend and cycling buddy, Paul, has headed out to Mallorca with a few fellow members of his cycling club for a week’s warmish cycling during what, in the UK, tend to be the cooler spring months. A hotel provides their base, they have day rides around different parts of the island, and enjoy convivial times in the evening. I joined them one year on a summer trip to the French Alps and they’re a lovely bunch of folks, but mostly progress at a quicker pace than I prefer. Paul always speaks highly of Mallorca, both the cycling and the place, so I figured I too might enjoy a solo visit, so I could explore places at a pace more suited to my needs and desires.
Last year, November 2022, I had just such a trip booked and was ready to roll but unbeknownst to me I’d clearly angered the gods. With my bike boxed and loaded in the car, suitcase packed, and just hand luggage to finalise, I got a call from one of the hospital consultants with whom I’ve recently become acquainted. A slot had opened up for a procedure I needed … the following week right in the middle of when I should have been cycling the hills of Mallorca. I could have declined of course, but for better or worse I had on my sensible head and with only eight hours until I was supposed to leave, I decided to cancel the trip. Having been rather hobbled by two years of the pandemic and one thing or another, this was my first chance to treat myself but alas it had to be consigned to the back burner. Now, however, it’s not only returned to the front of the hob but is ready to serve.
I booked with Jet2 and am flying from Manchester airport to Palma airport where I’ll transfer to my hotel in Puerto Alcudia on the other side of the island. From what I’ve found, this location offers access to a wide variety of rides heading up into the Tramuntana mountains in the north or across the central rolling plains. I opted for a package deal which, in addition to the air fare, includes a half-board stay at a hotel with all the amenities a normal holidaymaker might expect but also serves the needs of cyclists Compared with my usual trips away, this will be a real luxury! At least I hope so.
Those of a certain age are more likely to recognise the source of my choice of title. For those who never experienced the big hair and shoulder pads of the '80's:
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