WASH July 2012 : Page 70

70 | THE RADAR | JET SET Major Majorca! Steal away for a glamorous getaway on this small island off the coast of Spain. Revel in a private luxury villa hidden in the countryside. | By Stephanie Davis Smith | Photography by Chad Chisholm | Down a crooking and curving via in Artà—a whimsical town near the Northeastern banks of Majorca, Spain—a countryside villa hidden deep in the island’s palm desert awaits. El Sueño is just one of several sprawling estates handled by luxury travel company Abercrombie & Kent Villas. Th ey’re experts in creating authentic Spanish vacations. Th ankfully, with as minimal planning eff ort as possible on my part! So far? Success! Th e hassle of fl agging down a cab and attempting to give directions in Spanish is thankfully averted—a comfortable van has picked me and some friends up at the airport and is now Point of View From Palma, head north to the cliffside town of Valldemossa. This regal view in La Foradada is a roadside stop along the way. whisking us through tawny fi elds of windmills, squat olive trees and tall Cypress fi rs. Th e backdrop looks straight out of the movie Gladiator —alas, no signs of Russell Crowe, but once we hit Manacor, a hip little city dotted with European cafés and art galleries that the driver informs us is famous for producing favorite son Rafael Nadal (one of the world’s top—and taut!— tennis players), this oversight ceases to matter. In the Balearic Islands, everything is alluring— the people, the landscape, the food. Little has changed over the centuries; life among the rolling hills and domed churches is still slow. Scores of Germans and Swedes have been vacationing here since the 50s and 60s, but few Americans have discovered the rural Spanish retreat—this despite direct hops from Dulles International and Reagan National airports to Madrid, plus a one-hour jumper plane to the island. We pull up to El Sueño at dusk. Th e villa, fully readied for our arrival, is as idyllic as I’d imagined. Carved wooden doors swing open to a white-washed, open-air estate with a central courtyard, stone terraces and, down a garden path, a heated swimming pool. Inside, from a refrigerator stocked with local cheeses, wines, breakfast goods and jamón, the local Ibérico ham, I pop open a bottle of white, grab some glasses for my fellow travelers and head out to the terrace to watch the setting sun. With fi ve massive bedrooms that sleep nine, the traditional Majorcan abode, which sits on 6 secluded | July/August 2012

The Radar Jet Set

Stephanie Davis Smith

Major Majorca! Steal away for a glamorous getaway on this small island off the coast of Spain. Revel in a private luxury villa hidden in the countryside. Down a crooking and curving via in Artà—a whimsical town near the Northeastern banks of Majorca, Spain—a countryside villa hidden deep in the island’s palm desert awaits. El Sueño is just one of several sprawling estates handled by luxury travel company Abercrombie & Kent Villas. They’re experts in creating authentic Spanish vacations. Th ankfully, with as minimal planning effort as possible on my part! So far? Success! The hassle of flagging down a cab and attempting to give directions in Spanish is thankfully averted—a comfortable van has picked me and some friends up at the airport and is now Whisking us through tawny fields of windmills, squat olive trees and tall Cypress firs. The backdrop looks straight out of the movie Gladiator—alas, no signs of Russell Crowe, but once we hit Manacor, a hip little city dotted with European cafés and art galleries that the driver informs us is famous for producing favorite son Rafael Nadal (one of the world’s top—and taut!— tennis players), this oversight ceases to matter. In the Balearic Islands, everything is alluring— the people, the landscape, the food. Little has changed over the centuries; life among the rolling hills and domed churches is still slow. Scores of Germans and Swedes have been vacationing here since the 50s and 60s, but few Americans have discovered the rural Spanish retreat—this despite direct hops from Dulles International and Reagan National airports to Madrid, plus a one-hour jumper plane to the island. We pull up to El Sueño at dusk. The villa, fully readied for our arrival, is as idyllic as I’d imagined. Carved wooden doors swing open to a white-washed, open-air estate with a central courtyard, stone terraces and, down a garden path, a heated swimming pool. Inside, from a refrigerator stocked with local cheeses, wines, breakfast goods and jamón, the local Ibérico ham, I pop open a bottle of white, grab some glasses for my fellow travelers and head out to the terrace to watch the setting sun. With five massive bedrooms that sleep nine, the traditional Majorcan abode, which sits on 6 secluded Acres surrounded by aromatic fruit trees and a vegetable garden, is unlike a busy resort. As an A&K Villa (akvillas.com), it offers total privacy and over-the-top luxury reserved for a select crowd (at around $8,725 a week). There’s none of the typical noise from other guests and every whim is accommodated. Exhibit A: While enjoying our impromptu “happy hour,” the table on the terrace is set with a scrumptious, traditional Spanish meal—no pressure, it’s there when we’re ready. Not a bad way to close out a long day of travel. Afterwards, stuffed and sleepy, we siphon off to separate rooms to find cozy settings for the night. Early the next morning (I’m in Spain, so I’m up), I enjoy a spread of eggs, pastries and more jamón on the terrace before heading out for nearby Pollença. Again A&K delivers—this time with another pickup for a day-tour led by a local (a different native guide is assigned to our group every place we visit). Getting an insider’s POV on each specific town makes a world of difference, especially if self-navigating is not your thing. We meet our cheerful guide in Pollença’s quaint central square and she leads us to ancientlooking stone steps that climb into the sky. We ascend them to the top of a mountain, burning off breakfast in the process, and take in a view of the entire city. Back on the ground, we hit local textile boutiques and a beauty shop called Think to stock up on products made of local honey and indigenous plants. Without exception, Majorcan food informs the unique culture of each city. As we walk the streets learning about Mallor (a secret dialect derived from Catalan that locals were forbidden to speak for decades) from our guide, she leads us into a small gourmet shop filled with heavenly aromas. Glass cases brim with native dishes such as ensalada rusa (peas and carrots with tuna and mayonnaise); tortilla Española, a potato and egg pie that looks like a cake; and timbet vejetal, which resembles French ratatouille. The best restaurants in Majorca don’t have celebrity chefs like those in the states, just creative locals who repurpose and pass on native Catalan cuisine. On our guide’s recommendation, we travel to nearby Alcúdia for a late lunch at Stay (stayrestaurant.Com), a well-known seaside bistro packed with locals. After shared plates of charred squid, whole-head shrimp with garlic, melon and Serrano ham, we dive into fresh-caught fillets of local hake, seabream and John Dory, sampling and savoring one another’s dishes. In Spain—home of tapas—no plate is off limits (we take this seriously and have ourselves a time). Snaking back to El Sueño, our driver points out another A&K property (this one outside of Alcúdia), then brakes so we can stop and sneak a peek. Welcoming us to the home, called C’Awanui, meaning “all life starts and stops here” in New Zealand’s Kiwi language, are friendly and gracious owners who take us through the posh, modern estate to illustrate just how different a villa experience can be. Boasting a contemporary aesthetic (and a lower sticker price of just $7,080 per week) compared to the more traditional confines of El Sueño, I mentally tag this place as a possible getaway spot for next year—in fact we all do the math. The days that follow find us lounging by the pool, sipping traditional sangria made by our genius in-home chef, snacking on pimiento bierzos (native grilled green peppers sprinkled with coarse sea salt) and sitting in village cafés enjoying San Miguels (native beer). My favorite day is spent driving to Valldemossa, a cliffside outpost resembling the Amalfi coast (only everything is tan, instead of white). Situated by the sea, near the villages of Deià and La Foradada, it’s no wonder that Robert Graves of I, Claudius fame chose to be buried here in a small cemetery overlooking the ocean. The view is stunning. Later we gather at Bens D’Avall restaurant (bensdavall.com), a nueva cocina balear that stares out over a cliff to the water. We relish fresh, clean cuisine, sip glass after glass of cava and laugh so boisterously we teeter on the brink of becoming loud, ugly Americans. No matter. Every once in a while you skip away and the stars align: You find a magical setting, warm air, incredible food and an engaging band of travelers with whom to share the journey. In Majorca, it is the best of everything.

Previous Page Next Page

Publication List
Using a screen reader? Click Here