I Took A Chill Pill in Mallorca

Wednesday, March 22, 2017 | Mallorca, Illes Balears, Spain (map)

Upward: Scaling limestone cliffs high above Mallorca's Bay of Pollença
Spain's Balearic Islands sit in the western Mediterranean, roughly midway between Barcelona and Algiers, making it a short flight for Nina and me when we visited last September. Our destination was Mallorca, the largest of the chain's four islands—the others being Minorca, Ibiza, and Formentera (known, respectively, for stone monoliths, stoned club-goers, and stone-faced German nudists). By contrast, Mallorca is a more middle-of-the-road vacation spot, with something for everyone, from outlet shopping and lazy beaches to brutal cycling routes and harrowing rock climbing. Whatever your pleasure, wine and fresh fish dinners bring everyone together at the end of every day.

This was my second year accompanying Nina and her family to Mallorca, who find the place pleasant but oddly familiar, since a significant portion of the island's residents and visitors are Germans like them. There are even German street signs, German doctors, German menus in restaurants, and German radio stations. (Suffice it to say I learned much more Deutsch than Español in the course of this trip.)

Surf's Up Portugal

Wednesday, March 8, 2017 | Odeceixe, Portugal (map)

Above the beach at Odeceixe, Maggie performs her favorite vacation pastime: coming right after me to stand in the same spot and take the same picture. (Lucky for me she doesn't have the same camera.)
It wouldn't be fair to Algeria to say that one of the prime advantages of living here is the proximity to Europe, but as an American in Algiers it's hard not to enjoy being a two-hour flight away from every major destination on the continent.

One weekend last summer, Nina and I took advantage of that fact by hopping up to Portugal to rendez-vous with my sister Maggie, who was passing through on a work trip.

After connecting in Lisbon, we drove south to the tiny beach town of Odeceixe, which was little more than a dozen homes and a restaurant clustered on a steep bluff over the Atlantic. Steady rollers drove endlessly toward the beach, and we spent most of our days there flailing in the froth, trying to catch waves amid encouragement from some local surf instructors. That and eating amazing fish dinners at the town's restaurant. (Sorry, I was too busy to get pictures of either!)

Odeceixe was a beautiful little corner of a country I have grown to love over the years, but we never would have found it without help from our Portuguese friends. Nina and I have met quite a few generous Portuguese expats here in Algiers these past years, and they gladly put their heads together and proposed a detailed menu of recommendations to help us plan our trip. (A huge "thank you" and "muitos obrigados" to Diogo, Tânia, Filipe, João, and all the others!)