So I'm sure once in a while everyone has had some time to kill, and a cafe is usually a place one can go to help pass the time relatively quickly. However, after 8 hours in our 'cafeteria' seats on the ferry from Valencia to Mallora (ma-yor-ca) it's safe to say I wont be visiting another cafe anytime soon.
On arrival to our hostel we were delighted by the presence of 2 gorgeous hostel dogs and a large swimming pool on the terrace. So while we waited to check in we dipped our feet in, played with the dogs and lay in the sun. After checking in we were told the beach was literally across the road and down the stairs, so we got down there pretty fast.
Charlie had sought out employment during her stay on the island, so we went to the town she was working in- Magaluf, to check it out. We also found out an old friend of hers was also on the island, and infact in a hotel around the corner, so ended up spending the next couple of days with them on the beach, curing our hangovers from the wild parties from the nights before.
If you picture Bali, then replace all the Aussies with young Brits, then that is essentially Magaluf. As you're walking down the main strip after 7pm it is lined with Promo guys and girls, who will do anything to get you to come into their club or pub. One guy literally slung my small friend over his shoulder and tried to take her in, to which I was outraged and yelled "put my midget down!" For we were heading to our favourite club called Mulligans, which I liked to call 'Funnigans', no one else seemed to apreciated my witticism though. Here we were given unlimited drinks, no catch, for €6, until 4am. Suffice to say, we (mainly I), went a little overboard and I ended up crashing on a lilo on my friends hotel room floor for 3 subsequent nights.
Our last night before I headed to another quieter town was by far the best. It all started when Tishy had gotten red raw sunburnt and could only wear her PJs without being in pain. So, being the good friends we are, Charlie and I decided we would also wear our PJs. This then developed into us staging a fake hens night for our mate, Molly, who was repping a skin tight leopard print dress. The story we wove was one of true love; Milly had met Enrique Sanchez the year before in Magaluf, along with all of us. We had all instantly bonded and had come back to celebrate their marriage at the magical Magaluf where their love began. Most people I think, totally baught it. And for those who questioned us, we had our stories all worked out and that seemed to sell them. The night was filled with copious amounts of drink, dance and laughter. However at somepoint I lost everyone and ended up walking home cold and lonely at 6 in the morning.
After three hours sleep, we had to get up and checkout, so went a lay by the side of the pool until we had to catch our respective buses and planes out of Magaluf.
While Charlie stayed behind and worked, I travelled over to the quiet side of the island to a town called Alcudia. Here I went for long walks along the beach, taking occasional dips in the water when the sun got too hot (which was quite often). The nights were kind of lonely, it was the first time Charlie and I had seperated since starting our travels more than a month before.
One day I spent bike riding around to all the different secluded beaches, trying to find some peace and quiet away from all the families on the main beach. I left the hostel at 9 am and got home at 6pm, I was pretty damn tired after trekking up the hills on my 5 geared bike, so I pretty much crashed as soon as I hit the bed. The sights had been beautiful though and totally worth the splitting head ache I got from being in the sun all day.
On my last day I went to the markets and splurged a little, buying a cute lace vest, some nice roman sandals and 250g of the most delicious and soft dried apricots I have ever had.
On returning to Magaluf for Charlie and my last night on the island, we decided a big night was the best way to say goodbye. We walked up the streets, trying to find a Promo guy to give us a good deal, and sure enough, at Tokyo Joes they gave us FREE drinks, no catch, until 2 am- we literally didn't pay a cent all night, it was great.
The next morning we caught a 20minute flight to Barcelona, where we chilled out for a couple of days, trying to figure out where to head to next. We booked an early train to Nice, however got convinced to go out the night before by our room mates. While I had only been keen for a quiet night, I ended up stumbling back to the hostel at 6:30am, only to be woken by my room mate at 7:30am telling me I have to get up or I'm going to miss my train at 8:30! We made it just in time, though the transit was a bitch to do hungover.
Now we have to get all the Spanish words out of our heads, which we had grown so use to using over the past month, and start learning some French!
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