Going to Mallorca for summer holidays was a decision purely driven by nostalgia. I wanted the island to fill up all those things I missed from home: the sea, the lunches at 3pm, l’all i oli, el ‘bon dia’ and ‘adéu-siau’, the smell of sunscreen, el pa amb tomàquet, walking in the shadows and spending more time in the water than out. Landing on the island, you already foresee what’s ahead of you through the window: the edgy peaks of Serra de Tramuntana, earth-coloured fields connecting like a geometric puzzle.
A 10 minute-drive from the airport is all you need to feel instantly surrounded by that ethereal air that just belongs to islands. Mallorca has this ability to make you feel disconnected in a matter of seconds. Just being on the road wakes up this sense of wonder that we loose in our daily lives: narrow wavy lines surrounded by tropical and deserted landscapes, smells of food coming from the air, the crispy sound of the heat.