Come on everyone, get a shuffle on. Out the door, floor the hire car. Twisty turny roads, a tail back. A fallen tree, floor the car. More twisty turny roads, the wife getting nervous.
Even twistier turnier roads, 270° degree bends. Slow cars, over taking cars, idiots. Twisty turny roads to the beach, better be worth it. Glorious scenery, too many people already.
Still they come. A constant stream through the tunnel, boats, buses cars. Flesh everywhere, white, red, brown black.
Back to the car, another beach, more twisty turny roads. Hardly any flesh, time for a swim. Jellies? Jellyfish? JELLYFISH!?! Fuck. That. Shit.
Back onto the twistier turnier roads, then just the twisty turny roads. Back to the pool, no sodding jellyfish here.
Into town, tapas for dinner. Drinks first. A cocktail bar, been here before, the cerveza artesanal Mallorquí was terrible, sour. I chance it again, consistency hasn’t been great, so you never know.
A big balloon glass, a touch yeasty, a slight haze, even with a careful pour. Not sour like last time. Not bad, but a bit thin and nondescript, with slight malty undertones in the aftertaste.
Billed as an Irish Red ale on the bottle. Why not a Mallorcan Red ale…? Why not a beer from here? I don’t want an Irish style, I want a Mallorcan style.