Tay sisters on vacation

Found these funny photos from my sister's visit to Mallorca (her and her boyfriend took a very welcome, three-week sojourn to Europe in the middle of their year-long tour of Africa).

Typical Tay sisters on vacation. :)

Mallorca, Trip 47: Es Trenc

After over two years of being in a long distance relationship between Europe and Canada, I moved to London... and Elliot and I are still doing the long distance thing. But hey, London is a hell of a lot closer to Ibiza/Mallorca (what's two hours compared to 11?), and really, there are worse places he could be based for me to visit. Many, many worse places.

Anyway, I have just one last visit planned for the end of September, so I thought I'd share some Instagrams of my last two summer 2012 trips to the sunny isles:

A weekend destination: Es Trenc, Mallorca

The walk from the parking lot at Es Trenc to the beach itself involves passing by several decrepit houses that were nearly finished before construction was halted: apparently, you can't build houses on the beach. Not sure what the whole story is here—you'd think the developers would have gotten the permits first, but then again, it IS Spain—but here's the result. 

Something about the fact that thousands of people pass the development each summer somehow makes it less depressing and ugly.

But why not?

Our beach umbrella. We have gotten a LOT of use out of this little number.

More graffiti on the beach. Great colours and cheeky kids!

Taking photos in front of the graffiti wall.

Elliot lifted himself up to look inside...

And I got a leg up. 

(My butt looks quite large in this photo.)

My favourite beach snack. 

You just can't resist buying one while saying "Magnum G-O-L-D???!!!!!"

Another weekend destination: the city beach in Palma. 

Testing out my new Tucker NYC jumpsuit on the beach. I had the opportunity to meet the designer, Gaby Basora, during a trip to London in the summer, and it was a true privilege. She designs all of her own prints and is SUCH a lively, gregarious person—a true pleasure to be around.

My teeny weeny leopard print D&G bikini. This got quite a bit of wear this summer.

That day, at city beach, we also saw a set of butt implants. Very bizarre.

Anyway.

One of our favourite little restaurants in Camp de Mar, which does a good paella.

Spanish olives are the BEST.

  

A 5-second August recap

A quick recap of the last, er, MONTH!

First there was the Olympics...

I saw Quebec's Alexandre Despatie dive at the Aquatic Centre...

These were Despatie's second Games and he didn't do very well - but the guy cracked his head on the board and had to get 20+ stitches not 6 months before the Olympics, so let's give him a break, shall we?

I also walked around the Olympic Park again...

I even got chicken mcnuggets at the world's largest McDonald's (which isn't actually this one, but the OTHER one at Olympic Park - see second picture below)...

I wandered the London 2012 Megastore (but didn't buy anything)...

And then I went back to Vancouver for the amazing, super gorgeous #AdrianxMalania wedding, which took place in the massive forest-backyard of one of Adrian's best friends, Tim.

Here's my friend Paul looking quite dapper, taking it all in:

 

And then I came back to London and started a new job! 

How's that for a super-quick update?

Mallorca favourites: Sa Foradada

Elliot would probably disagree with this, seeing as I grumble about it every time he suggests it, but Sa Foradada IS actually one of my favourite places in Mallorca.

About a 5-minute drive from Deià (in the north of the island), getting to Sa Foradada means a 45-minute hike down a winding gravel road. It's easy and I usually do it in flip flops, but the 35-degree heat definitely makes it a bit more challenging.

Here are some photos from the top of the mountain, pre-hike. You can see the winding road on the side of the tip of the island that is basically the last 10 minutes of the walk. (That's my sister and her boyfriend on a recent European sojourn from their travels through Africa.)

The start of the walk involves climbing over an iron gate (the only cars allowed on the road are those belonging to the restaurant owners at the bottom). This sign makes sure you're heading the right way:

There are plenty of olive trees during the first 10 minutes of the hike. 

Ever eaten a raw olive picked off a tree? I don't recommend it.

There are also loads of sheep during the first 15 minutes. They roam the dry land eating grass and they run away from you if you approach them. The big collars around their neck have big cowbells around them.

And then, once you get to the bottom, we usually go eat at the family-owned restaurant first. This man, who is in his 70s, has owned the restaurant for over 40 years, and still spends his summer days cooking paella for appreciative tourists.

My favourite paella in the world.

See? We have brought quite a few people here—at least four different groups of visitors, that I can think of—but Sa Foradada remains a favourite. 

After lunch, there's a little rocky cove where you can sunbathe (though to be honest, it's not the most comfortable as there's no sand...). Usually, though, I end up splashing around in the tide, trying to avoid being smashed over the rocks. 

Last time we went, we climbed up the side of the small mountain, but I got a bit scared once we got to the very tip of the cliff and had to hang on to the peak-marker. My palms were very sweaty (and they're getting sweaty now just thinking about it again)!

It doesn't look so scary here (I just look flipping ridiculous), but Elliot is taking the picture about 2 feet away from the edge of a 100m-high cliff. I won't be doing this part again!

Canada Olympic House... and more Britishisms

Today, a Canadian woman asked if I was Canadian... because she said I had a bit of an English accent. The horror! Seriously, I'm heading back to Vancouver in late August for a week, so if I have ANY SYMPTOMS of Madonna English, y'all had better tell me.

Anyway, this Canadian woman was at Canada Olympic House, which is at Trafalgar Square (also where the annual Canada Day celebrations are held). The house is, unfortunately, closed to friends and family, but I got a little tour of it and, I must say, this actually gives it more of a comfortable feel.

The Canadian sponsors are there - Petro Canada, Molson Canadian, and, of course, P&G, which is not Canadian but is a big Olympics sponsor and owns Crest, Pantene, Pampers, and Secret, among a few other beauty brands. P&G's Olympics campaign slogan is "Thank you, Mom", which is officially the biggest tearjerker campaign of the Games. If you haven't watched it, YouTube it.  

Anyway, they've set up a lounge where friends and family can, in true living room style, watch CTV-streamed Olympics content... which is such a relief. The BBC is wonderful, but their Olympics coverage has (obviously) been SO British-centric - yesterday, I was shouting at the TV in frustration as they named the gold, silver, and bronze winners in some sport, OMITTED ANY MENTION of the Canadian team in 4th, and then focused in on the Brits in 5th. Bah.

Canadians watching Canadians compete at the P&G "Home away from home" lounge at Canada Olympic House. There is Molson Canadian beer and poutine (although they make it with mozzarella... sacrilege! Apparently you can't find cheese curds in London).

There is also a Hudson Bay Company pop-up shop! Love.

Anyway, a few more random Britishisms to start your weekend:

• When buying coffee, if you want a "drip coffee" (as we would say in North America), you have to ask for "filter coffee" here (although many cafés don't actually have this). Basically, they're referring to a French filter coffee - i.e. coffee made using a Bodum.
• When ordering an Americano or a cup of tea, you have to specify whether you want it black or white. Essentially, white means it comes with milk in it - hot milk. Cafés here don't have Thermos' / carafes full of a cream, half-and-half, skim, or soy milk by the sugar and other condiments.
• The middle finger: it is used here, but it's much more common to use a two-fingered salute, with your palm toward you and a type of swipe-upward motion. Basically, imagine yourself saying "up yours" with two fingers in a backward-peace-sign, and you get the idea. (Apparently, this tradition derives from the Hundred Years War in the 14th century: English archers that had been captured by France had two fingers cut off their right hand - the fingers that drew the bow - so by flashing those two fingers, you were effectively showing a gesture of defiance.) 

That's it for now.

Happy weekend!