Mallorca, September 2020

Swimming in the sea early mornings and cycling up those windy hilly billy serpentine roads to Formentor in the late afternoons make my late september days. Otherwise, time is mostly filled with home office work for the newspaper and sexy administrational stuff for accountant, tax office, health insurance etc. That bike rental costs more than my car rental but is worth every penny as I so much enjoy doing what most of my Parki Buddies do: cycling, cycling and cycling. Getting really into it! The Mallorquines do it all the time as they constantly pass me uphill and downhill on their professional super bikes dressed in colorful and functional lycra clothes, as fast as Tour de France participants.

Formentor is at the very end of Mallorca‘s north west territory on the Tramuntana Mountain chain and has more to offer beside the most expensive real estate ever sold in Spain. Hiking down some narrow tracks towards little stony beaches with blue cristal clear waters and hardly any people around, I concentrate on my balance and surefootedness which have become worse every time. I still though manage to hike fast and agile enough, especially uphill. What a joy. Feels good to be back on track, spending precious time totally on my own, shaking and detoxing that booty, that suffered a little after some weeks of letting myself go too much in Portugal and Berlin.

It still hurts me a lot when seeing all these joggers running either by the beach or up and down those hills. I miss running so much. Damn. But that is something I definitely had to leave behind. In fact my left hip hurts these days caused by that disbalance of both body half movements.

My simple but beautiful appartement is situated in front row of the beach in Puerto de Pollença and I practically fall into the Mediterranean Sea. View is so spectacular I don‘t dare to show my colleagues at work, starting morning conference calls with salty and wet hair. And I can limp around naked in the flat as much as I want, listening either to neoclassical piano music, King Crimson, Etta James or Michael Jackson. Nobody there to cook for me so I eat out of the fridge, like always. Most of the restaurants and shops are closed and hardly any tourists on the streets to be seen because they don‘t want to confront the two week quarantine when back home again. I have no idea when going back as I wont stop traveling and hopping all around the Balearic Islands until I get enough. Never enough for me, for sure.

Unstoppable