It's Always Sunny in Mallorca

Trip Start Apr 25, 2012
Trip End Ongoing

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Where I stayed
Hostal Atlanta
What I did
topless sunbathers

Flag of Spain  , Balearic Islands,
Tuesday, June 5, 2012

What can I begin with here? It is such a relief to be really
enjoying myself. I finally left the UK for sunny Spain, and I won't look back
from here after having the time of my life. But first I spent a few days in

Cardiff was a very nice city. Swansea was quite the
opposite, although it did have some fantastic scenery just outside the city.
Wales was fun, and I had a great time with great couch surfing hosts. However
the stories aren’t that interesting compared to the experience I had in
Mallorca. When I first arrived in London over a month ago I was wetting myself
as I aimlessly wondered the streets, but now there is nothing like the feeling
of having no bloody idea what you are doing. After one night staying with a
Czech girl I had to resort to a hostel for only the second time. After the
experience in Brighton I didn’t have high expectations, and yet it turned out
to be the best thing that has happened to me so far on this trip.

The hostel I chose had the friendliest atmosphere and the best staff ever. Unlike Brighton meeting people here was simple, with the downstairs bar being a
great place to just sit and talk with strangers all night long. With there
being an enormous amount of Germans on the island, there were also some beer
halls nearby, which were totally insane! The people I met included an awesome Italian
bloke who could speak four languages fluently, several very good looking
American girls, and a couple of Brits who were quite literally the funniest
blokes I’ve ever met. These Brits loved to give nicknames, and I was
affectionately known as 'Oz’ (like most other Aussie blokes they meet). Oz isn’t
bad, but the middle-aged drunken Argentinean bloke who hangs out at the bar and
mumbles in Spanish seemed to enjoy being referred to as ‘asshole’.

With the weather in Mallorca always being so warm, a lot of
naive tourists find it a great idea to go skinny dipping in the middle of the
night. Some dodgy locals love to take advantage of this, and I had been clearly
warned by several people. But after a few drinks and when you are with a stunning
American girl you tend to forget about the warnings and lose all of your common
sense. Leaving everything except our birthday suits on the beach, the bandits
were at least kind enough to leave behind our thongs (flip-flops if you aren’t
Aussie). Fortunately the hostel wasn’t far and we walked back before any
‘policia’ busted us for public nudity. It’s been difficult without my phone and
credit card but I was at least smart enough to leave my passport and a separate
stash of cash in my computer bag.

As bad as that was I’m glad it happened. I had another bad
experience the next day that I could have done without. It rarely rains in
Mallorca, but when it does the thunder strikes can be quite unsettling. There
was a huge blast that made me think some Islamic extremists had discovered that
there was a large amount of Americans staying at the hostel. According to the
British blokes the sight of me jumping over fences with my hands over the back
of my head ducking for cover is the funniest thing they have ever seen. As I
ran inside I collided in the doorway with a couple of staff, who were running outside
to see what was going on. I can now add lightening to the list of things I am
scared of.

I also met a guy on couch surfing who couldn’t host me
because he was living on a yacht. His name was Julian (Yoo-lee-an, because he
is German) and his job is to renovate the yacht in the morning, then sit on the
deck drinking rum and coke in the afternoon. It was quite cool hanging out with
him, especially being taken around the bay on a blow-up dingy and seeing the
city of Palma from the sea. We also went cliff diving, and it’s something I
wouldn’t have even dared try before I came overseas. It proved just how much
this trip has been changing me for the better.

Sadly, it had to end and I am now back in London. After such
a hectic week with lots of beers and next to no sleep I feel a bit sick and
need to recuperate. But provided I can somehow get some cash without my card,
the big one is about to happen. My next destination will be Iceland. Can’t
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