We had high expectations of Palma-the massive cathedral overlooking the old town, the huge super-yachts berthed in uber-expensive clubs, the setting of palm trees, blue water and sunshine. Aisling joined thousands of other yachts in Palma Harbour- some, like us, who were there to look, and others, no doubt, who were there to be seen. It reminded us, to some extent, of St Barth's in the Caribbean.

Arriving in any new port always causes us some anxiety, so we were relieved to have found such a great parking place for Saturday night- and even more relieved when we were able to book a berth for the next day at the marina Alboran, just a short walk away. Who would have believed that the price of 48 euros/night would seem like a real steal?

With our immediate concerns resolved, we walked into the old town in search of dinner. The streets of the old town were bustling with European vacationers, mostly German, whose elegance made us regret our wardrobe choices for the evening (jeans, T-shirts and ballcaps). We had tapas and wine at a busy little bar, and chatted for a while with the Brazilian skipper of a Swan 65 and his crewmate from Antibes as well as a young German couple who were vacationing in Mallorca. Later, we went back to the boat and sat in the cockpit for a while, enjoying the view of the full moon beside the cathedral.

The following day, the animated city we had seen the night before seemed to have vanished. On Sundays (and during siesta) the streets of Spanish cities are typically deserted. The garage-style metal doors that cover the fronts of most businesses can hardly be described as picturesque. No Sunday shopping here! No eating out either, apparently, since most restaurants were also closed. The weather was cool and overcast so, after a long walk, we spent the day resting and catching up on some work.

By early the next morning, the city had shape-shifted back into a Mediterranean paradise! It was the ideal day for a long run along the waterfront boardwalk in the bright sunshine, past the cathedral and beaches, where surf created by the blow of the previous night was crashing in on the sand. The end of the point was a great spot to get the full impact of the cathedral's size, scope and graceful proportions. After a quick shower, we headed off for a day of exploring.

The first stop, of course, was the cathedral. It is as magnificent as described- very large and ornate, with three levels of elaborate and beautiful stained glass windows. Oddly, guidebooks were for sale only in the giftshop at the exit, but we were able to get some insight by lingering in the vicinity of an elderly American couple who had obviously hired a private guide for the day. (Leaving the cathedral, we saw this same couple leaving in a Mercedes with their driver and guide- a glimpse of how the privileged set tour Spain!) The guide provided a detailed explanation of the altarpiece, designed by Gaudi, (who will doubtless return to the pages of this blog later, when we reach Barcelona).This unusual twisting wrought iron chandelier supposedly represents the Crown of Thorns, but a key feature is 33 small suspended ships. According to the guide, the ships represent Catalan sailing ships.and were crafted from pumpkin shells. The number 33 was apparently of some significance to Gaudi's Masonic background, and the crown on the head of his statue of Christ also features 33 points. It would have required the better part of a day to examine everything the cathedral had to offer, but unfortunately Rick's tolerance for touring cathedrals seems to be inversely proportional to the number we have seen during our journey. After about half an hour, he was ready to leave. We moved on to the Can Marques,"the only mansion house one can visit in Palma," for a glimpse at the lifestyle of wealthy citizens in early-20th-century Mallorca. Can Marques is a beautiful house, but not one where a tall person could live comfortably.

We could have toured the castle, the other churches (which are as glorious as the cathedrals in many cities) and some of the museums. Instead, we went shopping. Rick, now regretting his Riviera man comments, was in search of a European wardrobe. We found a great pair of linen pants and a scarf, then retreated to a dockside restaurant for a late lunch.

We had heard various tales of Mallorca's spectacular scenery, tranquil anchorages, poor holding and fierce winds, but unfortunately the remainder of our Mallorcan "cruising" was done by car. We confined our explorations to the west coast, where many of the important points of interest are clustered. The Serra Tramuntana,, with elevations of up to 4500', lie just outside Palma. The drive to the village of Soller took us through a spectacular landscape of olive and citrus groves backed by craggy mountain peaks. Spring wildflowers added splashes of red and yellow to the landscape. Dodging the hoards of cyclists made the steep switchbacks even more challenging than usual to navigate. Yes, cyclists... hundreds of them...most seemingly on a cycling holiday with a German tour company, but resembling Tour de France contenders complete with "team" uniforms. They smiled cheerfully as they pedaled up steep inclines for miles the way we might pedal down Spring Garden Road, but hurled oaths at inconsiderate drivers. As they passed us on the steep downhill segments, with only inches between them and certain death, I concluded that some levels of courage are best left to others.

S�ller is a captivating town of old stone buildings, beautiful gardens, small shops and mountain views. A tram line runs through the town and out to the coast. We had coffee in the square, then drove to the outskirts of the town, where fields of citrus orchards shimmered against the dramatic backdrop of the mountains and the air was full of the perfume of flowers.

Fornalutz and Dei� were also very beautiful- quaint villages in spectacular mountain settings, again with the elusive scent in the air- could it be oleander? Dei� was the home of British poet Robert Graves- whom we had never heard of until seeing the cartoon of "Graves' Grave" in Bob's book. This setting would surely inspire artistic creativity, even though Graves is beyond appreciating the spectacular view from his final resting place. The cemetery itself was actually quite interesting. Spanish graves often provide photographs of the deceased- typically stout and elderly, peering out from behind thick glasses. Surely they must once have been lovely senoritas and handsome young men?

The only disappointment was the town of Valldemossa- touted as a highlight of the island but in fact a warren of cheap tourist stalls, although admittedly in a lovely setting. Perhaps we are experiencing touring burnout. In any case, we decided to go no further, and made our way gradually back to Palma, detouring for a picnic in Sant Elm and a visit to the marina in Andratx.

The next morning, Rick announced that the wind, although light, was at last coming from the right direction to sail (motor) to Barcelona, so after one last run along the water and a final foray into the town, we headed down the coast. Unfortunately, the combination of our boat problems, weather and schedule hadn't really allowed us to experience genuine cruising in the Balearics, but perhaps we will be more fortunate on the homeward journey.

We arrived at Marina Vell in Barcelona at 11 a.m. yesterday, after a calm and windless passage. More to follow!

All the best from Aisling 1!