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The Balearic islands were much nicer that we
anticipated. The city of Mahon (or Mao) was beautiful, if full of
tourists (and this was September). We spent some time there with the
Hoptoads in an extremely protected anchorage, and did some good
windsurfing. Then we wandered around the south side of the island to see
a festival. A tradition here for festivals is to get these huge dressed
up horses really excited by swarming around them and encouraging them to
rear up on their hind legs, and even hop. We naively had front row
standing position right by the flatbed with the mariachi band. Every time
a new horse came into the ring it would come right over to us and then
swing its butt around. We learnt to duck under the flatbed towards the
end when all the horses had foaming mouths and wild eyes. We certainly did
not participate in the swarming thing - people ran around all sides of the
horses, pushing upwards on their chests. Two horses and riders fell over
backwards. It was really something. Apparently the mayor of Mahon was
killed a couple of years ago riding one of these horses.
Another really pleasant stop in the Balearics was
on Mallorca - Cala Barca - a quiet little cove with fantastically clear
water, and a wonderful beach. The beach did have perhaps thirty nudists
sunbathers there every day, but they were very quiet and all went away at
night. And we met a couple of young Brits who where camping there, and
had a brilliant time playing in the water, and then cooking sausages on
sticks over a campfire at night. These chance meetings with people you
would otherwise never come across is part of what makes this trip great.
However, when we said goodbye they encouraged us to look up their parents
if we ever went to U.K. Then we realized they were closer in age to
Bronwen than to Neill or I. Oh dear - now we are trying on the cheater
glasses in the Pharmacy and realizing that with their help we can look at
each other up close much better!!!
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