A Spanish Island Idyll
A Spanish Island Idyll A Spanish Island Idyll
6 TR THENEWYORKTIMES,SUNDAY, APRIL15,2012 FromPage1 norca’s ecosystem. The island isn’t Spanish exactly, nor simply Catalan (though Menorquin, a dialect of Catalan, is the lingua franca). This pocket of old Mediterranean culturewas shaped by an array of colonizers — Romans, North Africans, Spanish and, for a brief period,theTurkish.Thentheislandwas passed back and forth for 200 years between the Spanish, the British and the French, until finally the Spanish claimedtheislandforgood.Architecturally, the result is a legacy that includes ArtNouveau,Gothic,Baroqueandeven Georgian styles. Cuisine ranges from a modifiedversionofmeatpiesandgin(à la England) to the potato-and-egg tortilla of Spain, to good old mayonnaise — ostensiblyatwistonalocalsaucechampioned by the Duke of Richelieu when theFrench(briefly)conqueredMahon. Last June, my partner, Ian, our daughter, Orli, then 2, and my parents arrivedforaweek,hopingtogetasense of Minorca’s singular identity. We flew in to Mahon, the island’s biggest town, where we rented a car and then wove our way to the opposite side of the island, stopping for lunch in Fornells, a fishing village on the northern coast where old men dried manzanilla, or chamomile, in enormous piles. A few touristsstrolledtheoldport,stoppingto eat the island’s hearty lobster stew so deliciousthekingofSpainisrumoredto sail here just for that. ON that first day we quickly discovered the island’s rather basic, but effective, protection against rampant tourism: though the mainhighwayfromMahontoCiutadella is wellpaved and commodious, many of the smaller roads that swerve into the countryside are barely wide enough for one car. We persevered, and drove on, pastfishingvillagesthatdottheisland’s coveslikepearls—townsthatareariot of color, with magenta bougainvillea crawling up white limestone, blue-shuttered homes that overlook the sea. Between the villages, road signs tempt withdirectionstowardhiddenbeaches. Unlike Palma de Majorca, which, by early summer, is already packed with vacationers from Germany and Britain, Minorca was still waking from its offseason slumber. At times, we couldn’t helpbutfeelabitlikeinterlopers.While people we met — hoteliers, restaurateurs, shopkeepers, shoemakers, dairy farmers—werecertainlyfriendly,there was a protective feel to Minorca, a reticence, which, for us, ultimately resulted in a deeply authentic travel experience. It was clear that this was not a place that was preening itself for tourists. SARAH WILDMAN is a frequent contributortotheTravelsection. Thereare580Unescobiosphere preservesin114countries,which meansyoucouldspendalifetime hoppingfromonetothenextand neverquitereachthemall. Lastyear,the40thanniversaryof theprogram,18newregionsaround theglobereceivedthedesignation, eachchosentopromotesustainable developmentaswellasculturaland environmentalprotection.Someof thesitesarealreadyhighlytouristed areas,anditishopedthedesignation willhelpcontrol,maintainanddirect thatvisitor-basedindustry.That’s certainlytrueoftheBaaAtoll,Maldives,whichhasonly12,000full-time inhabitantsbutwelcomessome 350,000touristsannually,manyof themdiversandsnorkelers.Withthe newbiospheredesignation,theMaldiveshopetocontinueatraditionof sustainabilityfocusedontheislands’ extensivecoralreefsystem. The biosphere designation enhanced the feeling of protectiveness. Everywhere there were signs indicating natural parks, with careful instructions on whereonecouldpark,camp,evenwalk. Property demarcations between farms were not fences but layers of rocks that formed low stone walls, which have been in place since antiquity. And in the ancient city centers, there was a sense that modernity had been purposefully keptatbay. In Ciutadella we parked at the Plaça del Born, a square marked by 19thcentury buildings carved from that magnificent rose-colored sandstone. Cars are not allowed in the historic city center without a special pass, so we walkedthefourlongblockstoourhotel, peering into the bishop’s garden and glancing up at the 13th-century Gothic cathedral. It wasn’t long before we found Hotel Tres Sants, an eight-room, year-old hotel in an 18th-century town house, tucked at the intersection of three streetsnamed,likemanyinthiscity, for saints. Sant Sebastià, San Cristòfol, San Joseps — each street was protected by a small statue of its namesake, housed inaglassboxaboveourheads. Our hotel room was sponge-washed in faint reds and blues, and the bed was dreamily swathed in mosquito netting. José Carretero, the proprietor, has lately opened a second hotel, the five-room Marquèsd’Albranca,afewblocksaway. Both are family-run. His niece showed us around our hotel; his nephew worked the desk; his sister managed the housekeeping and breakfast. True Menorquines, the family dates back to atleastthe15thcentury. In the morning, Orli ran gleefully throughthecobbledstreets.Shedashed into the Pastisseria des Centre, which has sold the flaky Balearic powdered sugar pastries called ensaimadas since 1881, and, later, was keen to taste homemade almond ice cream at Sa Gelateria de Menorca.At one of the ubiquitous TouristsalsoalreadyvisitMujib, Jordan,intheDeadSeabasinandthe JordanRiftValley,whichincludesthe lowestspotonearth(1,370feetbelow sealevel)anddozensofindigenous plants. Mao’erMountain,China,another 2011grantee,isamountainofgorgeousvistasandhometoethnic sandal shops, with stacks of shoes piled totheceiling,shetriedonapairofabarcas,thesimpleleathershoesMinorca is known for and which are sold in a rainbowofcolors. One evening we came upon a costumed crowd: women with castanets wore 19th-century dresses with white, billowing shirts and long, wide skirts; themenworeknickers.Therewasafull bandofguitarsandafemalesingerwho barked in Menorqui like a square dance caller as the group performed. The crowd was entirely local; we were the only tourists observing. The scene was a window, we realized, onto what life hasbeenlikehereforgenerations. Walking home we stumbled upon Ulisses, a whitewashed watering hole facing the Mercat des Peix, a 19thcentury fish market. Lighted almost entirely by candles, the bar is known for its dozens of gins. A vestige of the English domination, gin on ice, we were told,istheisland’s drinkofchoice.Xoriguer, the best-known indigenous brand, tastesofjuniperberries. José told us that most of his clients stay up to a month with him, but we were due elsewhere. So, reluctantly, after only two nights, we bade him farewell. Within moments of leaving the city limits, we were surrounded by unpopulated, wild land. The Minorcan soil seems to revel in its ability to make thingsgrow,fromabountyofaromatics — rosemary bushes, thyme, lavender and chamomile — to yucca trees, blackberry bushes and succulents that shoot up through the rock crevices. Everywhere we saw trees heavy with fruit, and a robust species of wild olive trees localscallullastres.AsIandrove,Iread thattheislandishometoabout220species of birds, 14 varieties of orchid and 1,000speciesofplants,some60ofwhich areendemictotheisland. Along the way, signs pointed out paths to mysterious prehistoric burial and prayer sites called talayots and navatas,fromtheBronzeAgeandearlier, built of stones arranged into T-shaped monuments or igloo-like structures. There are, I was told, more of these ancient ruins on Minorca than anywhereelseintheworld. Our destination was the village of Es MigjornGranforaone-nightstayinthe upscaleagrotourismoBinigiusVell.The road that led there seemed unintended for cars of any size, let alone our large vehicle, but the payoff of that treacherous drive was worth it: an infinity pool, alovely restaurant, horses on the groundsandanhourlonghiketothedistantsea. InEsMigjornGranwemetmyfriend Baruc Corazón, a fashion designer from Madrid, who has been coming to Minorca since childhood. His aunt moved groupsliketheHanChinese.The areawaschosenforbothitscultural andenvironmentaldiversityandto acknowledgeagrowingculturalinterestamongtravelerstothisonce remotearea. InAfrica,Songor,Ghana,isalarge swathofcoastallandwithbothmarineandfreshwaterecosystems.Ghanaishopingtodevelopandenhancethearea’seco-tourismindustry,whichhasonly,cautiously,just begun. InEasternEurope,thelargelyagriculturalregionofZuvintas,Lithuania,waschosenforitswetlandsand lowlands. Onthissideoftheworld,St. Mary’s,onSt.KittsandNevis,with itscloudforests,mangrovesandcoralreefs,isoneofthefirstbiosphere reservesintheCaribbean. SARAHWILDMAN FROMLEFTHeadinghomefromschoolalongthecobbled,car-freelanesinCiutadella; Minorca,aSpanishI SPAIN Balearic Sea Ciutadella FRANCE MAJORCA IBIZA Barcelona MINORCA BALEARIC ISLANDS MINORCA Fornells Mahon Mediterranean Sea 5MILES THE NEW YORK TIMES SixBiospheresWorthaTrip UNESCO Mao’erMountainrhododendron. TheCamideCavallsisatrailforhikers,bikersandhors
theharborofCiutadella;theday’scatchforsaleinEsGrau,avillagenorthofMahon. dyll backridersthatgoesaroundtheperimeterofMinorca. THENEWYORKTIMES,SUNDAY, APRIL15,2012 Onanislandfreeofvelvetropesandmega-yachts, thelandandawayoflifeareuniquelypreserved. to the small town of Sant Lluis in the 1970s in a fit of hippie anti-establishment glee and never left. Her friends were a collection of expats: Spaniards, GermansandAmericans. Baructolduswemustvisitasitethat we later called the “lighthouse at the end of the world.” The landscape, he promised, was unlike anything else on the island. The next morning we did as told, driving back up toward Fornells, steering our car into the preserve marked “Parc Natural de S’Albufera des Grau” and navigating a narrow paved road. We passed a dozen groups with backpacks, sturdy shoes and walking sticks. Within a few miles, fields filledwithcows,andscrubbytreesgave way to a lunar landscape of black and gray slate on one side, wetlands on the other. We parked and walked out to the edge of Cap de Favaritx, where we found a black-and-white-striped lighthouseoutofcentralcasting,surrounded bysmooth-rockbeaches. Onthewayback,wepickedupBaruc, who directed us down a side road toward the sea. “There are two restaurants in this village,” he said from the backseatofourCitroën.“Onehasafantastic view. The other has the most amazingfood.Let’sgothere.” Soon we emerged over a hill and took in a collective breath. Before us lay the tiny village of Sa Mesquida (“the Mosque,” a nod to the town’s long-ago North African residents), a handful of whitewashed houses along a one-lane road that led to a wide beach with fine white sand and a path stretching off to morecoves. “The British and the French used to hide in this bay, before they attacked Mahon,” the proprietor of Bar Sa Mesquida said to us, as we ordered a bottle of crisp, white Galician wine, a whole dorade, grilled and dressed with lemon and salt, and a tray of fried ortigas de mar, a sort of anemone with a taste like aburstoftheseaitselfandeatenonlyin earlysummer. After lunch, we took a short hike. On the beach in Sa Mesquida, paths led from beach to sandy beach. There were no snack shacks, no beach chairs, no hawkers. After we wove our way throughthemarshypath,andthenback to our car, Baruc directed us toward the town of Sant Lluis, where his aunt was celebratingher60thbirthday. SANT LLUIS, founded by the French, is a tidy village with a neatly laid out grid of streets and a photo-worthy windmill. But the roads surrounding the town were minuscule and haphazard. We were stuck in one lane, trying to turn around, when a horse-drawn carriage came upon us, its driver demandingwebackupashecursedusinthelocal dialect. Somehow, after 15 sweating minutes,wewereabletoescape. That night, in honor of Baruc’s aunt, we ate and danced with a motley group of expats. An American couple, Dick and Patrick, who have owned an old farmhouseontheislandsince1971,were afontofMinorcanhistoricalknowledge. “Do you know the history of Admiral Nelson here in Minorca? Did you know Americans trained here before Annapolis?” Dick asked. “And that there is a cemetery in Mahon filled with Americans?” I did not know these things, I told him. He parried with another question: “Did you know that St. Augustine, Fla.,wassettledbyMinorquines?” That one I looked up. The Minorcan group consisted of 1,400 indentured servants brought over in 1768. Those who survived the journey and a decade of hardship became a vibrant community in St. Augustine that still celebrates its Minorcanroots. As we learned the history of the island,wealsodiscoveredsomethinguseful for the rest of our stay: an inexpensive underground network of sublegal rooms for let. We took a gamble and allowed ourselves to be led to one house that had five gorgeously appointed WHERETOSTAY TheeightroomHotelTresSants inCiutadella(CalleSantCristòfol,2, Ciutadella;34-971-48-22-08; hoteltressants.com),above,isa dreamworldofsponge-colored wallsandbillowingcurtains.Afull, deliciousbreakfastisincludedinthe high-seasonrateof150euros(about $196at$1.30totheeuro).Theownershaveafewapartmentsforrent aswell. ThereareseveraldozenagrotourismosonMinorca;someencouragechildren,otherseschewthem. Westayedatthe(childfriendly) BinigausVell(CamiMalagarba,kilometer0.9,EsMigjornGran;34-971- 054-050;binigausvell.com)outside ofthetownEsMigjornGran,which hashorsesonsite,aninfinitypool, anexcellentkitchenandaneasy hour-hiketothebeachattheready. Adoubleroomstartsat187eurosin earlysummer. JustslightlysouthofMahon, thereareword-of-mouthroomsto rentandlotsofsmallboattoursto takeforthosewhodon’twantto hiketofarbeaches.SandyLarsen (sandy@mandrakia.com),anexpatriateAmerican,cantellyoumore aboutwheretogoaboutfinding suchuntraditionallodgingand tours. HotelXuroy(CalaAlcaufar,Sant Lluis,34-971-15-18-20;xuroymenorca .com),a1950s-stylefamily-owned hotelonagorgeouslittleinlet,offers rooms, a pagoda with lounge chairs, an endlessbreakfast,drinksallday, AmericanbluegrassontheiPod. We spent the next morning happily swimmingatamunicipalbeachpeopled by a few tourists and locals. We were content, but Baruc insisted that we move away from the easy-to-reach shoreline. Soon we were hiking across parkland, heading for a set of covesin an area called Binisafua. This time the landscape was flat scrub brush that remindedmeofIsrael. With a 2-year-old in tow, I was daunted by the jagged cliffs it seemed we had to traverse to get to the water. Fortunately, many, many years ago, someone had cut rough steps into the stone, and as we picked our way down the rocks, there, spread out before us, was the largest cove we’d yet come across. The “beach” here wasn’t sand at all, just smooth rock platforms dotted with tanning locals, most of them nude. Like some of the other best spots on this island,thiscorner—whichfacedawarm, calm sea that was the most intense blue Ihaveeverseen—wasunmarked. Some locals picnicking there told us we must go to Mahon, the capital, to make our island tour complete. So the nextmorningwesetout,wanderingthe streets, and admiring the Art Nouveau architecture around the cathedral and themagnificentviewsoftheport. TR 7 PHOTOGRAPHS BY LOURDES SEGADE FOR THE NEW YORK TIMES PlanningYourTrip LOURDES SEGADE FOR THE NEW YORK TIMES 46cleanandbasicroomsanda baby-friendlytinycovebeach—all forabout50eurosanight,dependingontheseason. WHERETOEAT AvisittoMinorcaisnotcomplete withoutahealthyportion(orseveral)oftheflakypastrycalledensaimada.TrytheonesatPatisseriadesCentre,astapleinCiutadella since1881(SesVoltes8;34-971-38- 06-40). Forpicnics,PereandLolaMosco sellroastchickenwithvegetables(6 euros),lentilswithham(4euros) andcroquetas(4euros)fromtheir tinyshopEsGust(CalledeSant Pere7,Ciutadella;34-971-48-17-33). Onthewaytotheothersideofthe island,RestaurantMigjorn(AvenidadelaMar1,EsMigjornGran;34- 971-37-02-12;migjorn-canapilar.es) isworthadetourforthelocally raisedlambandthecod,aSpanish staple,donewell.Anenormous lunchfortwowillrun80euros. BarSaMesquida(Called’enFonso,2.SaMesquida;34-971-18-83-54)isknownforitsgrilledfishandpaella,JosefaOrtuño,theproprietor, runsthetinykitchen.Dinnerfortwo runsabout70euros. Ifit’sjustgoodoldfriedsardines andapintofbeeryou’dlike,trythe beachfrontplasticchairsofBarEs Moll,inthevillageEsGrau(Moll Magatzems.17,EsGrau,34-971-359- 167). The enormous port has drawn visitors and traders for centuries. As a result, Mahon feels more open to the world than Ciutadella. It is still nothing like the bustle of Palma on Majorca or the crowds in other Spanish seafront cities. For one thing, as Sandy Larsen, an American expatriate who helps arrange tours of the island explained to us, yachts are not encouraged. It is far more expensive to dock a yacht in Minorca than in other Mediterranean ports, she said, so the yachters don’t come.Itisanotherwaytheislandkeeps itscitiesforitscitizens. On our last day, we ventured out into the countryside once again. We steered north, past Mahon, to the park that abuts Es Grau, a tiny fishing village. When we parked we saw off to one side a marked path that meandered through the protected salt marshes. In front of us was a wide, shallow-water cove, filled with that exquisite aquamarine water, perfect for wading. A few beachfront shacks offered fried sardines and beers. An eco-tour kayaking outfit offered friendly, and environmentally safe,toursofnearbycovesanddeserted islands. We opted for neither swimming nor boats, just a plate of fried sardines bythesea. Then we stared out at the landscape, windswept and purposefully, gloriously wild. Æ
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theharborofCiutadella;theday’scatchforsaleinEsGrau,avillagenorthofMahon.<br />
dyll<br />
backridersthatgoesaroundtheperimeterofMinorca.<br />
THENEWYORKTIMES,SUNDAY, APRIL15,2012<br />
Onanislandfreeofvelvetropesandmega-yachts,<br />
thelandandawayoflifeareuniquelypreserved.<br />
to the small town of Sant Lluis in the<br />
1970s in a fit of hippie anti-establishment<br />
glee and never left. Her friends<br />
were a collection of expats: Spaniards,<br />
GermansandAmericans.<br />
Baructolduswemustvisitasitethat<br />
we later called the “lighthouse at the<br />
end of the world.” The landscape, he<br />
promised, was unlike anything else on<br />
the island. The next morning we did as<br />
told, driving back up toward Fornells,<br />
steering our car into the preserve<br />
marked “Parc Natural de S’Albufera<br />
des Grau” and navigating a narrow<br />
paved road. We passed a dozen groups<br />
with backpacks, sturdy shoes and walking<br />
sticks. Within a few miles, fields<br />
filledwithcows,andscrubbytreesgave<br />
way to a lunar landscape of black and<br />
gray slate on one side, wetlands on the<br />
other. We parked and walked out to the<br />
edge of Cap de Favaritx, where we<br />
found a black-and-white-striped lighthouseoutofcentralcasting,surrounded<br />
bysmooth-rockbeaches.<br />
Onthewayback,wepickedupBaruc,<br />
who directed us down a side road toward<br />
the sea. “There are two restaurants<br />
in this village,” he said from the<br />
backseatofourCitroën.“Onehasafantastic<br />
view. The other has the most<br />
amazingfood.Let’sgothere.”<br />
Soon we emerged over a hill and took<br />
in a collective breath. Before us lay the<br />
tiny village of Sa Mesquida (“the<br />
Mosque,” a nod to the town’s long-ago<br />
North African residents), a handful of<br />
whitewashed houses along a one-lane<br />
road that led to a wide beach with fine<br />
white sand and a path stretching off to<br />
morecoves.<br />
“The British and the French used to<br />
hide in this bay, before they attacked<br />
Mahon,” the proprietor of Bar Sa Mesquida<br />
said to us, as we ordered a bottle<br />
of crisp, white Galician wine, a whole<br />
dorade, grilled and dressed with lemon<br />
and salt, and a tray of fried ortigas de<br />
mar, a sort of anemone with a taste like<br />
aburstoftheseaitselfandeatenonlyin<br />
earlysummer.<br />
After lunch, we took a short hike. On<br />
the beach in Sa Mesquida, paths led<br />
from beach to sandy beach. There were<br />
no snack shacks, no beach chairs, no<br />
hawkers. After we wove our way<br />
throughthemarshypath,andthenback<br />
to our car, Baruc directed us toward the<br />
town of Sant Lluis, where his aunt was<br />
celebratingher60thbirthday.<br />
SANT LLUIS, founded by the<br />
French, is a tidy village with a<br />
neatly laid out grid of streets<br />
and a photo-worthy windmill.<br />
But the roads surrounding the<br />
town were minuscule and haphazard.<br />
We were stuck in one lane, trying to<br />
turn around, when a horse-drawn carriage<br />
came upon us, its driver demandingwebackupashecursedusinthelocal<br />
dialect. Somehow, after 15 sweating<br />
minutes,wewereabletoescape.<br />
That night, in honor of Baruc’s aunt,<br />
we ate and danced with a motley group<br />
of expats. An American couple, Dick<br />
and Patrick, who have owned an old<br />
farmhouseontheislandsince1971,were<br />
afontofMinorcanhistoricalknowledge.<br />
“Do you know the history of Admiral<br />
Nelson here in Minorca? Did you know<br />
Americans trained here before Annapolis?”<br />
Dick asked. “And that there is a<br />
cemetery in Mahon filled with Americans?”<br />
I did not know these things, I<br />
told him. He parried with another question:<br />
“Did you know that St. Augustine,<br />
Fla.,wassettledbyMinorquines?”<br />
That one I looked up. The Minorcan<br />
group consisted of 1,400 indentured servants<br />
brought over in 1768. Those who<br />
survived the journey and a decade of<br />
hardship became a vibrant community<br />
in St. Augustine that still celebrates its<br />
Minorcanroots.<br />
As we learned the history of the island,wealsodiscoveredsomethinguseful<br />
for the rest of our stay: an inexpensive<br />
underground network of sublegal<br />
rooms for let. We took a gamble and allowed<br />
ourselves to be led to one house<br />
that had five gorgeously appointed<br />
WHERETOSTAY<br />
TheeightroomHotelTresSants<br />
inCiutadella(CalleSantCristòfol,2,<br />
Ciutadella;34-971-48-22-08;<br />
hoteltressants.com),above,isa<br />
dreamworldofsponge-colored<br />
wallsandbillowingcurtains.Afull,<br />
deliciousbreakfastisincludedinthe<br />
high-seasonrateof150euros(about<br />
$196at$1.30totheeuro).Theownershaveafewapartmentsforrent<br />
aswell.<br />
ThereareseveraldozenagrotourismosonMinorca;someencouragechildren,otherseschewthem.<br />
Westayedatthe(childfriendly)<br />
BinigausVell(CamiMalagarba,kilometer0.9,EsMigjornGran;34-971-<br />
054-050;binigausvell.com)outside<br />
ofthetownEsMigjornGran,which<br />
hashorsesonsite,aninfinitypool,<br />
anexcellentkitchenandaneasy<br />
hour-hiketothebeachattheready.<br />
Adoubleroomstartsat187eurosin<br />
earlysummer.<br />
JustslightlysouthofMahon,<br />
thereareword-of-mouthroomsto<br />
rentandlotsofsmallboattoursto<br />
takeforthosewhodon’twantto<br />
hiketofarbeaches.SandyLarsen<br />
(sandy@mandrakia.com),anexpatriateAmerican,cantellyoumore<br />
aboutwheretogoaboutfinding<br />
suchuntraditionallodgingand<br />
tours.<br />
HotelXuroy(CalaAlcaufar,Sant<br />
Lluis,34-971-15-18-20;xuroymenorca<br />
.com),a1950s-stylefamily-owned<br />
hotelonagorgeouslittleinlet,offers<br />
rooms, a pagoda with lounge chairs, an<br />
endlessbreakfast,drinksallday, AmericanbluegrassontheiPod.<br />
We spent the next morning happily<br />
swimmingatamunicipalbeachpeopled<br />
by a few tourists and locals. We were<br />
content, but Baruc insisted that we<br />
move away from the easy-to-reach<br />
shoreline. Soon we were hiking across<br />
parkland, heading for a set of covesin<br />
an area called Binisafua. This time the<br />
landscape was flat scrub brush that remindedmeofIsrael.<br />
With a 2-year-old in tow, I was daunted<br />
by the jagged cliffs it seemed we had<br />
to traverse to get to the water. Fortunately,<br />
many, many years ago, someone<br />
had cut rough steps into the stone, and<br />
as we picked our way down the rocks,<br />
there, spread out before us, was the<br />
largest cove we’d yet come across. The<br />
“beach” here wasn’t sand at all, just<br />
smooth rock platforms dotted with tanning<br />
locals, most of them nude. Like<br />
some of the other best spots on this island,thiscorner—whichfacedawarm,<br />
calm sea that was the most intense blue<br />
Ihaveeverseen—wasunmarked.<br />
Some locals picnicking there told us<br />
we must go to Mahon, the capital, to<br />
make our island tour complete. So the<br />
nextmorningwesetout,wanderingthe<br />
streets, and admiring the Art Nouveau<br />
architecture around the cathedral and<br />
themagnificentviewsoftheport.<br />
TR 7<br />
PHOTOGRAPHS BY LOURDES SEGADE FOR THE NEW YORK TIMES<br />
PlanningYourTrip<br />
LOURDES SEGADE FOR THE NEW YORK TIMES<br />
46cleanandbasicroomsanda<br />
baby-friendlytinycovebeach—all<br />
forabout50eurosanight,dependingontheseason.<br />
WHERETOEAT<br />
AvisittoMinorcaisnotcomplete<br />
withoutahealthyportion(orseveral)oftheflakypastrycalledensaimada.TrytheonesatPatisseriadesCentre,astapleinCiutadella<br />
since1881(SesVoltes8;34-971-38-<br />
06-40).<br />
Forpicnics,PereandLolaMosco<br />
sellroastchickenwithvegetables(6<br />
euros),lentilswithham(4euros)<br />
andcroquetas(4euros)fromtheir<br />
tinyshopEsGust(CalledeSant<br />
Pere7,Ciutadella;34-971-48-17-33).<br />
Onthewaytotheothersideofthe<br />
island,RestaurantMigjorn(AvenidadelaMar1,EsMigjornGran;34-<br />
971-37-02-12;migjorn-canapilar.es)<br />
isworthadetourforthelocally<br />
raisedlambandthecod,a<strong>Spanish</strong><br />
staple,donewell.Anenormous<br />
lunchfortwowillrun80euros.<br />
BarSaMesquida(Called’enFonso,2.SaMesquida;34-971-18-83-54)isknownforitsgrilledfishandpaella,JosefaOrtuño,theproprietor,<br />
runsthetinykitchen.Dinnerfortwo<br />
runsabout70euros.<br />
Ifit’sjustgoodoldfriedsardines<br />
andapintofbeeryou’dlike,trythe<br />
beachfrontplasticchairsofBarEs<br />
Moll,inthevillageEsGrau(Moll<br />
Magatzems.17,EsGrau,34-971-359-<br />
167).<br />
The enormous port has drawn visitors<br />
and traders for centuries. As a result,<br />
Mahon feels more open to the<br />
world than Ciutadella. It is still nothing<br />
like the bustle of Palma on Majorca or<br />
the crowds in other <strong>Spanish</strong> seafront<br />
cities. For one thing, as Sandy Larsen,<br />
an American expatriate who helps arrange<br />
tours of the island explained to<br />
us, yachts are not encouraged. It is far<br />
more expensive to dock a yacht in Minorca<br />
than in other Mediterranean<br />
ports, she said, so the yachters don’t<br />
come.Itisanotherwaytheislandkeeps<br />
itscitiesforitscitizens.<br />
On our last day, we ventured out into<br />
the countryside once again. We steered<br />
north, past Mahon, to the park that<br />
abuts Es Grau, a tiny fishing village.<br />
When we parked we saw off to one side<br />
a marked path that meandered through<br />
the protected salt marshes. In front of<br />
us was a wide, shallow-water cove,<br />
filled with that exquisite aquamarine<br />
water, perfect for wading. A few beachfront<br />
shacks offered fried sardines and<br />
beers. An eco-tour kayaking outfit offered<br />
friendly, and environmentally<br />
safe,toursofnearbycovesanddeserted<br />
islands. We opted for neither swimming<br />
nor boats, just a plate of fried sardines<br />
bythesea.<br />
Then we stared out at the landscape,<br />
windswept and purposefully, gloriously<br />
wild. Æ
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