An Ordinary Saturday in Mallorca
We didn’t do anything extraordinary today.
We had breakfast at home, walked down a staircase we’d somehow never noticed before, caught the TIB 108 bus from Porto Pi to Portals Nous, spent the day at the beach with friends, and came home exhausted.
It was one of the best days we’ve had since moving to Mallorca.
One of the things I love most about living here is how little effort it takes to change your surroundings. Five minutes after leaving our apartment, we were standing on the Passeig Marítim. Fifteen minutes later, the bus dropped us in Portals Nous. Another short walk down the hill, and we were at the beach in Puerto Portals.
No traffic.
No planning.
Just… there.
We spent the day with two families we genuinely enjoy being around. One recently arrived from Gig Harbor, Washington, where we used to live. A few months after we left, they rented out their house and started traveling with their two children. Costa Rica. La Paz, Mexico. Now Mallorca. Uruguay is next.
They’ve chosen movement.
We’ve chosen roots.
Different decisions. Surprisingly similar reasons.
Listening to their stories reminded me that there isn’t one right way to build a life. Some people keep moving. Others eventually find somewhere that feels like home.
For us, that place has become Mallorca.
Coco didn’t waste a second.
She ran straight into the Mediterranean.
Watching her confidence in the water over the past year has been one of the unexpected gifts of living here. She’s becoming fearless. Strong. Independent.
I knew the Med would shape her.
Not surprisingly, it’s become part of her story.
While Jenny stayed with Coco, I disappeared underwater.
Puerto Portals has some surprisingly good snorkeling. Thick Posidonia seagrass covers the seabed, broken by sandy channels that feel like underwater trails. Sunlight cuts through impossibly clear water while fish weave between the rocks.
I’ve always thought snorkeling is probably the closest I’ll ever come to being an astronaut.
It’s another world that’s been here all along.
When I came back, Jenny took her turn in the water while Coco and I splashed around in the shallows until everyone else arrived.
By lunchtime the kids were tired, hungry, and somehow still full of energy.
Thankfully, one of our friends had already reserved a table at Beewi Puerto Portals.
Beewi isn’t somewhere I’d send someone looking for Mallorca’s best meal. The food is good, the views are excellent, and sometimes that’s exactly what you want after a morning at the beach. We shared a couple of paellas, I ordered my now standard alcohol free Mahou, and lunch quietly turned into sobremesa.
One of my favorite things about Spain is that nobody rushes you.
Even when there’s a line outside, the table is yours until you’re ready to leave. The conversation becomes part of the meal.
Hours later we wandered back to the beach, reclaimed our umbrellas and chairs, and somehow spent the rest of the afternoon in the water.
At one point I had five kids hanging off me at once.
The laughter.
The splashing.
The complete absence of anywhere else we needed to be.
Puerto Portals vs. Palma
Puerto Portals is polished. Beautifully so.
The houses and yards are immaculate, the cafés are expensive, and everything feels carefully designed.
I enjoy spending days there.
But every time we leave, I’m reminded why I’d rather live in Palma.
Palma has edges.
It feels lived in.
Real.
It’s a city with imperfections, and I love it for exactly that reason.
Why We Moved Here
As the sun started dropping, we caught the bus home.
Coco fell asleep in my arms before we reached the marina. I carried her the rest of the walk home, still damp from nearly six hours in the Med.
People sometimes ask if moving to Mallorca was worth it.
Days like today are my answer.
Not because today was extraordinary.
It wasn’t.
Someday this chapter of our lives will end.
Coco will grow up.
Our routines will change.
We’ll visit these same beaches differently than we do today.
That’s why ordinary Saturdays matter.
Years from now, I don’t think I’ll remember what we accomplished today.
I’ll remember that we had nowhere else to be.
And I’ll remember carrying a sleeping little girl home after a day that felt exactly like the life we spent years trying to build.
