A Trip to Trumpton

Always good to start the week off with something dashing – I quit my job this morning.  Been niggling away at me now for a few months and finally I decided today was the day, after working a months notice, I will have completed a whole year on board.  For some reason, other potential employers like to see a year as a minimum.

Of course, the skipper was dismayed and has this afternoon been trying to tempt me to stay but you know when the little seed is planted and it will only ever grow – that really makes me think the best option is to move on.

Had a busy weekend exploring the delights of Palma.  First stop was the most important for the weekend – Lórien in Palma, an absolute must for any serious beer drinkers.  When I say serious beer drinkers, I don’t mean people that can swill down 10 pints of Budpiss or wife beater – I mean the serious drinker that only drinks two beers on their visit, yet savours the mouthful of flavours that they ingest – best of all, it is twice the strength of that pish you get everywhere else so you only need a couple and you are done for.

Hot on the tail of Lòrien was Magaluf or Shagaluf as some of you might know it.  Just on the outskirts of this huge free sperm exchange is a place called Pirates.  I last went there around 5 years ago and loved it, this time it was almost just as good. I say almost because for my part there was too much girl dancing when the acrobatics could have been more.  Still though, – if you find yourself in Shagaluf and you are not full of strangers sperm, Pirates is a must see.

Not quite last on my score list was a Saturday evening meal in a little place called Na Burguesa, a shack that clings to the hillside overlooking Génova and the whole of Palma from one side of the bay to the other, and out back to the mountains.  A nice little number too – got there in daylight and stayed until after dark.  After dinner, we headed into Palma to Hostel Cuba, a new place for me, somewhere I haven’t been since it opened but ……..I haven’t really missed anything.  Full of people trying to look too good rather than having a good time – reminded me of a trip once to Pacha where the locals were easy to spot, they danced rooted to the spot in fear of spoiling their hair or creasing their clothes.  Of course it wasn’t long before we had seen enough and headed for an old favourite ‘ Café Lisboa’.  Still liking this place although I have to admit it is missing something since the smoking ban came into force – it was a bit like a seedy Jazz club before but with a different playlist, mostly rocky stuff with thick smoke so if you were looking for someone at the other end of the bar, you had to walk down there to see them, no standing on your tip toes and making eye contact.

Saving the best to last was of course ‘The Diner’ for sunday brunch – a superb score to  finish off the weekend.

Still full of cold and feeling the effects of all of the food i have eaten this weekend I need to focus.  We leave Palma on Monday and head for Sardinia where we have two races to compete in – and I use the word ‘compete’ very very loosely indeed.