And then there was six

Sharon took Marie and Michael up to Palma this evening for them to begin a protracted journey home via Shannon, staying over and then bussing up to the midlands. I had a great final evening with the boys. It was a shame Sharon missed out. I took them down to the beach which is now clear of the seaweed-type plant which they let build up over the winter period. In the evening sun, the big lads had a brilliant time, running in and out of the surf, digging in the sand and generally bidding a fond farewell to Mallorca. Angus was champing at the bit to get out his buggy,. which almost ended up in the sea at one point as a rogue wave washed in! We cleaned off in the pool back at the house afterwards and the boys went to bed tired and happy.

Marie had her wallet nicked at the Alcudia market on Tuesday. She had returned there with Sharon and the big boys on Tuesday, after a trip to the library to make up for the fact that Sean and Finn were missing school from Tuesday onwards. I spent that morning strolling with Angus in the buggy in the south end of the resort but unfortunately the path across San Baulo beach was suitable for the buggy and I had to loop round the marina area. C'an Picafort has been OK as a base; the house has been excellent but the resort is only just waking up to the summer season. Had we made more of the beach then it would be an ideal location but I reckon a finca near Pollensa would have suited us fine. Admittedly it has been good being able to walk to local shops rather than use a car.

We had a cracking day on Wednesday, driving down to Porto Cristo across the Mallorcan countryside. The sun shone and, after the obligatory playpark stop beside the marina, we had a fairly ordinary tapas lunch (cooked by an Irishman) before returning to the splendid strip of beach by the harbour. Marie and Michael went on a boat trip while I made a big sandcastle with the lads. Sean and Finn were having a ball, getting filthy digging holes and making mud pies, lying in the surf and generally making the most of a day at the beach. After his nap, Angus joined in too, with his first paddle in the sea. He was reluctant at first but soon got the hang of it, despite a splash of salt water in the mouth! It was the kind of beach that you wished was a couple of miles longer, as a stroll along the waterline and back was all too brief. There were some tired boys on the drive home.

The rain returned yesterday so I drove Marie, Finn and Rowan over the mountains and through the tunnels to Port de Soller. It was tipping down with rain thhttp://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=4636422258994107906#ere as we dodged from awning to awning before having lunch. There was little point in hanging about so the afternoon was spent picking our way north-east along the winding mountain roads. Unfortunately, with the weather having closed in there was little to see as we eventually came down to Inca and the flatter land. Sharon and I went round the corner to Rapha's in the evening which was quiet but we were the focus of attention for the owner who was excellent in telling us about the dishes and the wines. The food was just too salty for our liking which was a shame as otherwise it would have been a fine meal to round off our holiday.

Ash Cloud

Suddenly the Eyjafjallajokull volcano is a big name, and not just in the Scrabble sense. As the weekend wore on and the text messages and BBC news built up, it became apparent that first Marie and Michael wouldn't be flying back to Dublin on the Sunday and then we wouldn't be returning to Newcastle on the Monday. On the Friday, Sharon, Marie, Rowan and I walked into C'an Picafort in search of the rather small market. Rowan was in fine fettle, chatting all the way there and back and seemingly well over his bad fall at Port d'Alcudia. He was funny at the Jamaican Bar, where he had to stand on a chair to get to the top of the straw on his strawberry drink. For once he was quiet, needing all his breath to suck up his juice! In the absence of other toys, the boys have been obsessing about the iPod, especially the "Boys Like Girls" playlist I compiled for them before we left. Rowan has been singing "Skater Boy," Finn "I Wish I Was a Punk Rocker," and Sean anything that requires heartfelt rendering. Angus has been cruising about the furniture but is getting a bit fed up of being penned in the living space as we cannot allow him out to the hall because of the open nature of the staircase.

On Saturday we returned to Pollensa en masse in search of the Fiera de Abril de Pollensa, a local fiesta. We got into the Restaurant Macondo just as it opened and weren't disappointed on our return. The Argentinian girl running the place was surprised to see us back with four children in tow, claiming she thought we were like honeymooners when we had been in on Wednesday! We had been celebrating the tenth anniversary of our engagement that day. For a mere €44 we had another fine feast between the seven of us (Angus brought his own). Rowan and Finn put away big bowls of bolognaise while the rest of us tucked into cod and ribs. The boys explored a nearby playpark while Marie and Michael explored a local wine-tasting then, after a wander round the main square, we returned to the tented fair and accompanying amusements.

There was a free session on the car rides and Rowan exploited it to the full. By the time we left later in the evening, Rowan had been on ten of the eleven vehicles, making up for all those times we deny him the pleasure outside supermarkets! The only word to describe the look on his face was "glee," his dimples drilling holes in his cheeks as he sat behind the wheels or astride the motor bikes on the up and down circuit. Sean was bawling as he shared the first ride with Rowan, despite being the oldest child on there. He clamed down to have another few shots but Finn just didn't fancy it at all. Rowan even went on the mini big wheel, pure delight on his face as he was hoisted high above us all. The others went on the bouncy shark which had a moving mouth that "ate" the children and allowed them to slide down the gullet. Rowan was less enamoured with that one, mainly because he couldn't climb up and hang on as well as Sean and Finn. There was a local Mallorquin band playing in the tent and, judging by the look of the long bar laid out, it had the makings of a long and potentially messy evening if you were staying in Pollensa. We weren't and had children to mind so sadly had to pack up and head for home, Rowan howling at having to leave the amusements behind. I know how he felt!

Yesterday, Sharon and Michael headed to Alcudia in search of an Internet cafe and found free access at the library where they booked a flight to Shannon for Friday. Unfortunately, Sharon had a run-in with a foul-mouthed waiter that rather spoilt her day. I was at the house playing with the boys. We brought small balls with us and are having great fun playing "multi-ball" in the space in front of the garage: kicking the balls against the walls and each other and throwing them up on to the balcony to catch them when they roll back down.

With our flight confirmed as cancelled last night we didn't have to pack but Sharon and I headed up to Palma today anyway, to check things out at the airport and extend the car hire. There's talk of the British Navy sending ships to northern Spain but I don't fancy attempting a return by ferry and overland across Europe so we're staying put. There's no-one due in the house, we've negotiated a €100 per night extension and I was able to book a flight for eight days hence so we'll just have to sit it out and hope the cloud lifts and flights resume. I'm hoping that there will be spaces available on flights next weekend as there must be people who didn't get out this weekend who were due to fly back next weekend but aren't here. However, it'll take a few days for the booking systems to reflect this. Sharon and I did a shop in the Carrefour hypermarket before returning to C'an Picafort but resisted the temptation to buy a pig's head or ears!

First week in Mallorca

The first week (and what should really have been the only week) was characterised by a rather cool breeze across the back verandah which made it hard work to persuade Sean to get outside rather than sit inside and read and do word searches with Papa. On the Monday afternoon, Sharon and I drove along to the next town south-eastwards, Son Serra de Marina, with Rowan and Finn. It was deserted, like a modern day version of something from a spaghetti western, as we parked the car and took a brief stroll along the wind-strafed beach and back through the town. All that was missing was the tumbleweed. In the evening, Marie and I took the three big boys to a playpark in C'an Picafort. They had a great time having running races and challenges on the various climbing frames amongst the trees.

On Tuesday we drove up to Alcudia for the market. It was a busy scene. Sean got some Spanish pants, as we had failed to pack him any! Seeing the array of local fuit and vegetables and chorizos and hams was a highlight as ever, the massive, twisted red peppers a far cry from the uniform mid-tone capsicums that sit in our local Sainsburys. We had lunch then a stroll round the old walled town while Angus slept, enjoying a drink in a square before returning back to where the market had been, now miraculously cleared away. We drove the short distance to Port d'Alcudia where Sharon had spotted a playpark on the beach. Within minutes, calamity. Rowan slipped off a convex banana-shaped slide from about five feet up and landed face down in the hard packed sand. There was blood, snot and tears everywhere. A waiter brought some water over to Sharon and some napkins as she tried to stem the flow from his nose and cut lips. As the bruising spread across his upper nose and below each eyes, I was sure he'd broken his nose. It took a while to calm him down but not as long as it might and by evening time, despite looking like he'd gnoe ten rounds, he was back in the mix with his brothers.

Sharon and I drove to Pollensa on our own on Wednesday and, while the boys were pestering their grandparents for treats and ice-cream and havinbg fun on the beach, we parked in the town and enjoyed a lazy stroll about before sitting in a sunny courtyard and relaxing over a bottle of wine as part of a splendid and incredibly cheap lunch at Restaurant Macondo. Belatedly we discovered some of the older part of the town and had a coffee in the main square, with me dozing off the wine as Sharon went in search of something for her sinuses. We spotted a "fiera" advertised for the weekend and vowed to return with the whole family.

Having found little to entertain us in our home resort, and with the cool breeze dissuading us from spending time by the pool, on the Thursday we headed up to Port de Pollensa. I took the big lads on to the beach while Sharon walked with Angus and Marie and Michael took a turn by themselves. We all met up again and had a monster lunch of tapas and stuff, the ribs being a big hit. I've also found that the wine in Mallorca hasn't been causing me any asthma bother, so I've been enjoying that too. I found a little playpark and was entertaining the boys with some game that involved me having to speak in several different accents. Finn always likes it when I talk in different voices. That evening, big lunch notwithstanding, Sharon and I drove to the nearby Hotel Rural Casal Santa Eulalia, a very stylish restaurant in a converted farmhouse setting. We partook of the fine dining experience which was very pleasant, although perhaps the portions were a little on the light side compared to what we've been getting accustomed to! It was good to get away from it all and having a fine meal though. We sneaked a peak through some of the reception rooms too; it would have been nice to have been staying the night! On our return, Michael said he'd got a text from Edel saying we might find ourselves stuck on Mallorca as there was talk of flights being cancelled due to a volcanic eruption in Iceland! And so our vigil of the BBC World Service began!

Settling in to C'an Picafort

On waking up, we weren't quite greeted with the sense of astonishment that our house in Orgiva afforded us with in May 2002, with the stunning views south to La Contraviesa and north to the Sierra Grande, but the lovely garden and pool and the spacious interior of the house seem to be ideal for our needs. We are in the north end of C'an Picafort, a resort on the north-eastern Mallorcan coast, apparently favoured by Germans. The house is about 200m along the road from the beach and across the road from a small play-park and is secure in terms of us being able to lock the front gate and keep wandering boys (Rowan and Finn) in check.

We took a walk this morning to try and find somewhere open for breakfast and, with it being a Sunday and the Easter rush over, the resort seemed decidedly out of season. Eventually we found a place for hot chocolate, sandwiches and omelette. I took the boys back via the play-park while Sharon took a longer route, scouting out the promenade. She was delighted to report that the beach and views up and down the Bay of Alcudia were very enticing.

There's a chill breeze blowing across the patio for now but the boys seem happy to explore the house and paddle in the pool. The water is cold though! Each of the steps down were assigned levels and the challenge was to progress to each level. Finn was the first to manage level 5 and swim across the pool, a feat he did not repeat! Sean never got that far. I did get in for a swim (it only took ten minutes to get right in!) but after quarter of an hour or so I was chilled to the marrow.

Sharon returned to Palma airport, in daylight this time, on the right roads, and arrived back in the early evening with Marie and Michael. We all walked down to the prom where the views to the headlands north and south of the long bay are indeed worth seeing. We ate out, thankfully sheltered from the sea breeze. Finn and Rowan were having a great time having races with me along the prom and Rowan was insisting on walking along the freshly painted Cornish-dairy-ice-cream-coloured wall that bounded the beach.

Having stocked up at a local Eroski supermarket and allowing the boys to stay up later than they would at home (although they don't know 9pm here is really 8pm back home) we're settled in for the week. Sharon has felt really chilled out from the off. I suspect it may take me a day or two, depending on how well Angus sleeps!