Pine release

walked into the mountains   (actually
rain:    rain on path     rain on dogs
rain falling in the bay through sun

   direction of      ie. towards the
fuming mountains    (also, on crown
of Hitler Youth til slick)    where the mist
(a kind of purple)    clung or shrouded
whatever   and   (it fell on our faces and
hands)     made to stop and go left
(pine release, very wet)    at the fence-line
even though I didn’t see any military
personnel or smart bombs and correctly
identified the tiny bird that was flying
           in the storm

                             when the mountain
was biggest     (I saw a crane, you
a house, it was pouring)    on the bypass
with four lanes       two for local traffic
direction of        ie. towards

Puerta Pollensa, Mallorca
January 2010

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A Walker’s Notes: Mortitx, Mallorca

I received a beautiful little Wainwright’s Walker’s Notebook for Christmas and couldn’t wait to record my first journey. More, I hope, to follow.

Start Location
Mortitx, Serra Tramuntana (Mallorca)

Date(s) Walked
3rd January 2009

Start Time
12 midday

Finish Time
3.30pm

Route/ascent(s)/descent(s) used
Half-way to Caleta d’Ariant via Rafal d’Ariant (route taken from the abysmal Walk! Mallorca by Charles Davis)

Comments
Walk commenced from gates of Mortitx vineyard in foul mood after argument with Sarah re. parking (views from very windy and precipitous Pollenca-Lluc road stunning). Weather: chilly, mostly cloudy with some sun and drizzle. Descended track past vines, farmhouse, etc. to open scrubland (carritx, wild-ish goats, sheep, boulders) increasingly narrowed by barren hillsides and scars. Directions from Davis book terrible. Several wrong-turns (path sporadic). Reached dead end beneath huge limestone (?) cliffs – but in sight of the sea – where I scouted around, increasingly agitated, for the way ahead. No way down. Sarah patient. On final, now very frustrated, perambulation of muddy boulder-field-cum-derelict, stepped farmland, I slipped on wet rock. Potential cracked skull averted by trusty day sack. Returned via hearty lunch of bread, cheese, ham and scripss – hand-lubricated with mayonese – held on top of rock formation. Sarah descended on bottom: You can’t go wrong sitting down. Quite. Pity we didn’t make it very far. Nice food, though.

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