Palma de Mallorca.

A new day dawns. Sunday. A second day of rest and reset? And I am heading to the beach... After another coffee, croissant, orange juice. His grace is given me now and forever. In every way. Always and in all ways.

As always, the three gentlemen and the one lady are very calm. They definitely engender a calmness. No hurry. Only patience. It easy like a Sunday morning.

***

The fuente up above the town, Son Trias, has a flexible pipe running from it too, so the water goes somewhere, but the guys in Café Passeig thinks it goes to the sea... I don't think it does. Someone in the town gets that water. Perhaps it is pooled and collected as it was being the day I walked to Banyalbufar? There are a lot of water tankers about so I think it's very precious so must go somewhere, not the sea?

***

I walked into Palma from Esporles, via Establíment - where I stopped for a coffee and banana break. Actually I walked to Santa Catalina, not Palma, to We Hostel! As it was the cheapest option. I've decided to stay another evening as at 30€ it is the cheapest option. I will definitely go to the one on the beach below the airport the day prior to when I depart. I am looking forward to leaving. Missing Lola, mum and the allotment... I am a bit bored if I am honest. Walking yesterday was a good idea, but eating in an Italian restaurant near Santa Catalina Mercado was a bad idea - everything in Palma is well expensive. I am not interested in a holiday. Reading a book letting time vanish in a trance. Last night. Or earlier this morning a light came on in the hostel and a noise. It was something to do with a power cut.

Brief walk to the Marina, but a major road runs passed it and it's Monday morning so back for a shower and porridge. Another reset. I am definitely walking along the coastline to Ca'n Pastilla in the morning.

Went to Palma for a meander. Wasn't intending on eating. But I came across a menu del diá so I did stop. Just had an hour in and out of sleep. But nothing concrete. Some noises kept prising me away from lalaland. And now I think I will read some more of Hangover Square? Once I have given my body more hydration: kafir and lemon water; I don't like Palma. I find it busy and hot. Full of people coming and going along the pavements. I want to be elsewhere. Anywhere but expensive Palma de Mallorca... So I just watch the comings and goings and linger. Coffee. Time measured with coffee spoons.

So I have finished with Palma. It's done. Many chapters of Hangover Square in a square(Plaça Gomila)with a hangover. And I like how he defined Brighton as London-on-Sea... With it's upperclass sect and riffraff clogging up the Laines, along to Hove and the regency mansions in their private garden enclosures. I like Brighton, having walked through it with Michael a few years ago and spent a few wild evenings with Scarlett back in our YHA days. Tomorrow I walk east along the shoreline to C'an Pastilla and turn my attention back to Leeds, Wetherby, mum, allotment and Lola.