» Let spring into your dreams, then they’ll grow to actions. « – Renate Wintergerst.
Vivid nature and a deserted old town. Vastness and narrowness. Old pomp and old dust. It’s hard to describe the small Majorcan town Felanitx with one word. If I had to, the word I’d chose would be: spring. Because it is this spring feeling which can be sensed everywhere on my trip to Felanitx. To me, there is not much that’s more amazing than watching how everything awakes from hibernation and is starting to move again. Spring is the perfect time of the year to clean up, to try something new and spring is the end of all excuses I use during winter: Too cold, too dark, too tired. Nature is showing us how to get things started and I try to follow.
Felanitx is different to the towns I have traveled to at Majorca. It is not as often included in tourist guides and when it is, the small city is mostly in the shadow of the close mountain Puig de Sant Salvador. Felanitx appears a little headstrong, as if it’s consciously trying to be different than the rest of Majorca. Headstrong, but still lovely.
One thing that is typical for Majorcan towns can be found here as well though: A market hall and I personally have really kind of fall in love with the markets at Majorca and their chaotic turmoil, the friendly merchants and mainly the many fresh products. The exemplar in Felanitx seems to be an especially old and rustic one which makes it even more charming. Unfortunately, the typical turmoil is missing. In the entire market there is no other person beside me. Most stands are already closed but in one corner there is one stand selling fruits. With a pound of strawberries, I continue my walk through the pedestrian street.
I wonder pretty frequently where all the people are hiding during siesta. Usually, most Majorcans are quite talkative, but during siesta they have gone quiet and are untraceable. Since there are also less tourists at Majorca during the colder half of the year, one walks relatively lonely through the town. As if Felantix belongs all to you.
I am also fascinated by the old churches here. The parish church Sant Miguel by itself seems to be big enough for all inhabitants of Felanitx to fit in there. And there is more than one church of this size in the town. If you then consider that most likely Felanitx was a lot smaller when the churches were build, one has to wonder what the use is behind such big churches. But I gave up on wanting to understand everything. Nevertheless, the churches are very impressive to see.
From Felanitx the travel goes on to the already mentioned Puig de Sant Salvador, passing a landscape filled with blooming almond trees. Depending on your point of view, the Puig de Sant Salvador is a hill or mountain, with a height of about 500 metres. At its top there is an old convent build in the 13th century, but to be honest, that becomes a minor matter. The real attraction is the incredible view one has over the island. Unbelievably far, unbelievably green. Down to one’s feed, within the endlessly green landscape, there is Felanitx – like an island on an island. Biker, who have made it up to the top – despite the slope of partly 6.4 percent – are proudly taking pictures. And I just can’t get enough of watching the island.
A little while ago, I read the saying: “Nobody is perfect. But still, we all have to be that way.” And I believe there is something true about it. Nowadays we expect so much perfection, of our work, our looks, our environment. We spend so much time trying to be perfect instead of looking for the beauty that lies within imperfection. We spend our time, trying to hide our little mistakes and flaws and don’t see the sympathetic and authentic charm within them. Felanitx has reminded me that it’s possible to be far from perfect but to still be beautiful, in your very own way. And if this works for a small town, why wouldn’t it work for us, our homes and our lives as well.