Love Island Mallorca
Five girls, one birthday, and the full moon flying to Mallorca for a long weekend is the recipe for a freaky girl's trip.
It started as all good girls' trips do, 10 am flight and a little hungover from the night before because we were too excited about our coming island vacation. Our best friend flew all the way from California for her birthday. The hair of the dog was the immediate cure when we touched down in Palma.
We stayed in Magaluf, which I can best equate to the vibes of the Jersey Shore. The clubs are rowdy and trashy - also in the very best way. Everyone is British and you almost feel like you’re on a movie set. An intense party scene surrounds the natural pristine beaches and intense blue water. I do not recommend staying in this area if you are looking for a serene vacation. I would recommend staying near Port d’Andratx – a tranquil and comfortable island side, also with beautiful beaches and beautiful boys. How do I know that? Well, let me explain...
We checked into our hotel and bantered with the local Spanish receptionist who teased us for being five blondes abroad and gave us a dad safety speech on our way to the room. It was the most basic accommodation, a room with a bed, a bathroom, a kitchen, a strong cigarette stench, and a balcony overlooking the ocean and tawdry landscape of clubs below.
Starved and ecstatic, we walked over to the restaurant on the beach directly in front of our hotel, Blackbeard’s. The restaurant's main appeal is the giant pirate ship statue fixated on the roof of the building. The establishment is completely outdoors with open walls and a majority of its seating in the sand. We started with strawberry daiquiris to set the correct tone for the vacation: girly, sweet, and strong. In a fit of gluttony, I ordered the chicken and ribs combo, which I could not finish.
We hit a random beach shop right next door to purchase beach towels, sunscreen, drinks, and cheugy, little souvenirs. We walked to the beach to lay in the sun for the remainder of the day. Laying in the sun on the beach is what I feel I was born to do and I'm so serious. When I grow up I want to lay in the sun on the beach forever and write sometimes.
We then got ready for our evening out, knowing Friday night would be our big night as Madison and I had an early Sunday morning flight. The birthday girl turned 24 at midnight, so we started our evening with a pregame in the room singing and dancing to throwbacks that make you feel 14 instead of 24. With Taylor Swift and The Black Eyed Peas blasting in the background, we shouted at strangers hopping around cubs from our second-story balcony. At midnight we sang to our birthday princess and hit the clubs. We got weird. When one club was not the right vibe for us, we hopped to another. For reference, there are probably 65 bars in a half-mile radius in Magaluf. At one especially grotesque club in particular, we purchased a bottle of liquor, five drinks, and five shots for the insane price of 45 euros. We even got to select our table which we sat at for about 2 minutes and then promptly abandoned our bottle of what tasted like UV Blue for the dance floor. If you are not familiar with UV Blue, it’s a blue vodka that is universally what every 16-year-old drank for the first time in their life in their friend’s basement when their parents were out of town. It's syrupy and sweet and dangerously absent of the taste of alcohol.
On the dance floor, the girls were dancing more freely than I've ever seen us in our lives. Something about being with your close friends in a foreign country on the beach brings out the most authentic version of yourself. The version of yourself that cannot bother to care what other people think of you and doesn't pretend to be too cool to scream and dance in the club.
As my friends know, I've had this thing lately when I'm out, where I call myself La Loba, and for my non-Spanish-speaking friends that translates to the wolf. So when La Loba awakens, she barks and howls at strangers. La Loba was with the full moon and she was vicious. After what seemed like hours for us animals, we hit one last bar while two of our club cubs wandered home. Three of us were left sitting at a table outside the club we were just at, plotting our next move when Sydney spotted a gorgeous, tall, brunette, blue-eyed boy walking down the street. She cat-called him over to our table and I knew he was mine.
After a quick get-to-know-you chat, he informs us that he’s with a group of five other Danish guys, currently bouncing back and forth between tattoo parlors watching them get a permanent, 2 am dare. (The fact that there are multiple tattoo shops a few doors down from each other should help you get a feel for the Magaluf vibe). Duh, of course, we want to see this happening, so we follow him and meet his cool friends. The chaos and excitement of the tattoos combined with the drinks made for a buzzing atmosphere and lots of giggles with our new best friends.
I know, big surprise, I met a boy! But he's one of those boys that makes you forget about all the other boys who made you sad. He’s pretty, blue-eyed, and sunkissed with a kind stature and big hands that gently nudge you in the right direction on the small of your back. He has an assured confidence that you can follow him wherever he is going. Naturally, I followed him all the way back to his best friend’s chateau.
Hidden in the mountains of Port D'Andratx is a grand, warm, Spanish vacation home with the grandest terrace I have ever seen. The three-story home built into the hillside has stunning views of the Balearic sea below.It’s high enough on the hill to look down the cascading mountain with a swimming pool located at the very bottom of the property. Looking across, you see grandiose homes on the other side of the peninsula with yachts sailing in the water between. The terrace has an outdoor kitchen and enough seating to host a family reunion. A gentle silence that hums in the air, which is what I imagine the sound Buddhists attempt to reach in meditation. A drastic contrast from the bumping club beats all night long in Magaluf.
In a pretty predictable turn of events, Madison was also interested in his friend, one of the five other Danish boys in their group. Waking up to my best friend and my newest crush combined with a mimosa for breakfast, the girls may have overstayed their welcome spending the first four hours of the day sunbathing and dancing in the sun. If you had the opportunity to play on a terrace overlooking the Balearic Sea all morning with dashing Danish boys, you would too.
I returned my boyfriend’s borrowed cashmere sweater and we said our loving goodbyes because the girls had to get on a boat. Exhausted and tipsy, we took our 45-minute drive back to the less affluent area of the island where we were located to get ready for the birthday celebration.
After gossiping and filling the other girls in on our adventure, we had lunch in Palma near the water. Extremely average food and service – it’s not even worth mentioning. We got on our boat with about 25 other people, mostly young Americans on vacation. Once the boat started moving, Madison and I immediately fell asleep. Champagne for breakfast combined with the sun and the rocking boat was a lullaby we could not resist. I woke up in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea and heard splashing about. Dazed and still a bit tipsy, I jumped in the water within 30 seconds. The crisp, teal ocean cured my hangover, and licking my salty lips was just what I needed to remember why I was there. Sun, sangria, and sleep. Then, it was time to return to shore.
An important note to make here – Sydney flirted with the very first Uber driver we got from the airport to our hotel in Mallorca. His name is Tony. Tony is a young, cute 20-something who barely speaks English. Sydney speaks no Spanish, but love has no language as she convinced him to be our driver for the entire weekend. She just called Tony up when there was no Uber available for a discounted 30 euro ride.
We headed to our hotel to rest and change before deciding what to do on our last evening together. The only thing we could handle after drinking on the boat all day in the sun was to return to the pirate-themed restaurant on the beach in front of us. Madison and I were plotting when we could see our crushes again while the other girls couldn’t hang after being overserved on the boat and then at the restaurant. The only problem – the boys had to leave for the airport at 2:30 am to catch their 5 am flight back to Copenhagen. Further proof love knows no bounds – the girls went back to the chateau at 11 pm to see our vacation boyfriends until the taxis came for them at 2:30. We went back to our favorite spot in the house, the terrace, which is just as stunning in the full moonlight. The lights reflect off the water below with a mysterious glow that you can't pull your gaze away from. We chatted with our lovers, told stories, giggled, finished off the wine, and dreaded the moment the taxis came to end such a special weekend. We ended our day just as we started it – on the terrace, drinking wine with boys you would love to see again but probably never will.
Vacation boyfriend syndrome is a sickness I fear is chronic for me. Finding love in sweet strangers allows one to be their truest, freest self without the nerves of what comes next.
You can make jokes without knowing his sense of humor, you can kiss him in front of all your friends, and you can make grandiose comments about your future together because that’s just it. It's the few loving moments you have dancing in the sun pretending.
There is no real pressure for him to call you back, to commit, or to be vulnerable because he’s only ever vacation boyfriend. Sure, maybe one day you will both accidentally be on the same island at the same time again, but life moves fast. The beauty and pain of traveling are the joyful, although fleeting moments you cannot keep forever.
You can tell yourself things would be different if you lived in the same city, but the harsh reality of logical thinking strikes again. My best remedy for this disease is to leave your memory as it were and know that the magic romance you felt for like 48 hours exists somewhere. It will always find you again on your next adventure.