More demolition. What was that bar called? Did it have a name, or was it just British Pub? I know, it was the No. 1 Pub, wasn’t it? You were able to still see remnants of Union Jack signs, but little else. Three workmen, one on a mini-dozer, the other two attacking stubborn fittings and bits of concrete. It is, was, around the corner from Café Paris and the tobacconists in Can Picafort, on the beachside extension of Josep Trias. Workmen, for some reason, always seem to look suspicious when someone stops and takes more than just a passing interest in their destruction. I moved on. To the front itself. On the low wall that forms the barrier between promenade and beach was a man of ideas, dishevelled, lost in thoughts, waiting for a drink. He moved on as well, shambling back up Josep Trias, past the wreckage of the No. 1 Pub. 

The beach has been partially taken over by the seaweed of winter. The promenade itself was empty, empty of people. Is it here that they are meant to be upgrading the front, or is it further down? There was no evidence of any work, except the bashing in the pub and the endless digging up of side roads, adding new cables, taking away old ones, laying new pipes, taking away old ones. 

All the units on the promenade are wide. As wide as they are cavernous inside. All are shuttered down in winter, not with shutters, but with vast glass panels or perhaps they are of perspex, bending against the wind. The prom has a uniformity of reflection when the sun is still to the north and glowing as it continues to do. The buildings behind and above are blocks placed at angles with balconies, antennae and dishes. There is little of any charm, anything vaguely unusual if you study the low sky line from the Can Picafort paseo, save the muddy, purple-blue of what’s it called? Why can one never remember the names of bars and hotels in Can Picafort? No, I know, Blue Bay Hotel, or something like that. Yes, I’m sure it is, but it’s less a hotel, more a hostel with its own cave-like bar leading onto the vacant promenade. 

Can Picafort in winter may be quiet, but it is not without some life, most of it German. Gutteral voices can be heard above the pounding of a Kango drill. There is a billboard advert for a German publication, “available in your book shop” it says in translation. The best restaurants in Mallorca. Nine euros, eighty. Does anyone actually ever buy these things? Presumably they do, if they’re German. 

Along the Paseo Colon that runs parallel to the promenade, shops are open – some of them. A souvenir shop seems forlorn. Who is there to buy souvenirs? Why would they? Four taxis are lined up by, what’s the hotel called. Gran Bahía? In the fourth cab on the rank, the driver is listening to the radio and reading a newspaper. And if one were to return in an hour or so, he would probably still be doing so. In Café Paris, the only bar you can remember the name of, owing to its longevity, there is a German with a half-eaten croissant reading a copy of “Bild”. There is no-one else at one of the few street terrace tables, yet it is a fine day, despite the breeze. 

There is, though, other life, it’s just that much of it is passing through, along the main coast road that they are also meant to be improving – finally. They put up new lights some time back, but the town hall threw a hissy fit because the road itself was not earmarked for improvement, unlike the sections in Playa de Muro and Alcúdia. Now, some time, they will do, so it will be easier on drivers who stop at Mercadona or who are heading either for Artà or Alcúdia, encountering the familiar traffic control at the Capellans-Eroski roundabout. The officers seem disinterested. Nothing much happens in Can Picafort in winter, even the patrol checks.

The Convento de Santa Teresa de Jesús is one of the 43 monasteries that once existed in Palma de Mallorca. Nowadays, only six or seven of them are still operating as a monastic institution.

Anyway, the Esglèsia de Santa Teresa in Palma’s Rambla had recently a bit of restauration work done to its exterior. In the course of repair work and a thorough clean up, a rather large sundial was discovered on the church façade that had been unbeknown to the authorities. The monochromatic hour pattern had faded away over the ages and the old style had vanished. Only the wet from the rain made the sundial discernable from close up. Ultraviolet lamps were used during the restoration process and the gnomon was replaced. Now this rehabilitated sundial gives us the time of day once again and in replenished style.

The church of Santa Teresa was built in 1634 and it is assumed that the original sundial dates from the same period, or perhaps a little later when the convent was constructed. An astonishing 945 sundials are known in Mallorca, with about 80 of them in the Palma area, if you want to know, and some of them are priceless. The oldest known sundial in Mallorca dates from 1614 and is located in Son Puig.

There is a Google map on the web with 24 positions of sundials in Palma. Not quite accurate but interesting nevertheless.

The photo (top) was taken in Palma de Mallorca, Baleares, Spain. The date: November 24th, 2009. The time was 13:17:57. The photo (bottom) was borrowed from the Internet. Thanks are due to arcapatrimoni.blogspot.com.

Moltes gràcies.

Si avui és dijous… toca tertúlia en el programa 451 d’El crepuscle encén estels · IB3 Ràdio, 21:00 · que parlarà dels Amics del Nepal a la secció  Forat Negre i, a continuació, estarà “Orbitant” sobre CANTAR EN CATALÀ. Molts són els grups illencs de folk, pop o rock que, en les darreres dècades, han près una decisió que, en qualsevol país normal, no seria cap notícia: cantar en català, la seva llengua. Apart d’aquest tret comú, la varietat d’estils és ben rica: Fora des sembrat, Ocults, Anegats, Antònia Font, o Oprimits, una banda que, mitjançant l’ska, el punk i hardcore, vol donar a conèixer la seva idea de lluita pel socialisme i la indepèndencia dels Països Catalans. Un objectiu, per cert, que comparteix amb els sabadellencs Desperta Ferro, autors de temes antifeixistes com Fahrenheit  …451

…451, ja ho val, com Crepuscles comptam fins el dia d’avui

· IB3 ràdio en directe · http://streaming01.ib3radio.com:8000/ib3radio.mp3

Relativ kurzfristig haben wir uns überlegt einen gemeinsamen Kurzurlaub zu machen und sind nach reichlicher Internetrecherche auf Mallorca gekommen. Auf den ersten Blick scheint Mallorca nicht besonders originell, da wir jedoch ein wenig Sonne tanken wollten und das Konto nicht unbedingt überstrapaziert werden sollte, hat uns ein Angebot überzeugt, dass wir nicht ausschlagen konnten: 462,- € für zwei Personen inkl. Flug und Hotelübernachtung. Also nichts wie hin.

Nach der Buchung haben wir uns dann überlegt, was wir eigentlich dort unternehmen wollen. Die typischen Anlaufzentren Mallorcas wie El Arenal und Ballermann sagten uns nicht zu. Wir wollten ein wenig entspannen, auf andere Gedanken kommen und die Natur erleben. Diese Ziele sollten wir auf jeden Fall auf Mallorca finden und hatten somit die Möglichkeit die Insel mit anderen Augen zu sehen als es viele andere Touristen tun.

We arrived in sunny Mallorca on Saturday at a huge 22 degrees.. Kath and I immediately stripped off (well took our jackets off).. Kath’s aunt Maxine and Grandpa met us at the airport to pick us up. Surprisingly enough our flight was early, good old Ryanair.

From the airport we headed to Maxine’s flat which Kath and I are staying at. (Maxine and Tommy have a beautiful house behind the flat. We then headed out to lunch to an all-you-can-eat (and drink) buffet. We all stuffed ourselves full then headed into Port de Polenca to take Kath’s Grandpa home. He has an apartment right on the waters edge, beautiful location. We then went to Maxine and Tommy’s house and had watched some tv on the wide screen and had some wine.

On Sunday we had a pretty quiet day and headed out to a Medieval Fayre Markets which we walked around an old church courtyard that had a whole pig on the spit. Maxine bought us some slippers to keep our feet warm in the evenings. We went to a Kebab place for lunch. It was the biggest kebab ever!And Tasty!!

On Monday, Maxine was going to hire a car for us. So we drove into the town centre of Port Pollenca and tried to hire a car, however we were to young so we drove to Alcudia and Maxine hired us a little blue Ford Ka.  It’s a nice little 3 door car. In the afternoon we drove up to Formentor which is up narrow little roads up mountains and through tunnels to get some great views and to see a far which is a lighthouse. The views were absolutely amazing! Got to love the Mediterranean.

On Tuesday, we filled the car up at a petrol station in Alcudia – the guy came up and filled the car up for us and then you just go in and pay – it was great!! We then drove through Arta, then to Cap de Pera and went up to the lighthouse and had a nice little break – the views on this corner of Mallorca were just as beautiful if not better. We were having a snack of some cheese chip things and all these cats come out from nowhere – there was like 7 cats! We then drove around for awhile trying to find the coves de arta. We got 2 euros of our tickets which was good – the caves were great – the guide spoke spanish, some english and a little bit of french – Pretty impressive!

We then drove home and had a nice night in. On Wednesday – Kath started to feel a little better and we went in to Port Pollenca and had a quick walk around the markets and then came home- to go off for a nice drive up mountains to Port Solla. The roads were narrow – but the views were amazing. There was an odd car who we think were driving around the tourist stop points seeing if people left there cars open. We had parked our car at one photo spot, and we were taking some photos and just sitting in the sun when Kath see’s this car come from one direction and turns around and drives back the way they came and parked right behind our car, the passenger guy got out and started to look at “the view” and then when he saw us walking back to the car he got back in and had to REVERSE to drive off. The fact that he was that close when There WAS like at least 100 other places seemed odd… as we were driving along we saw the same car within like 3kms like 5 times. We think he was driving around the tourist photo stops. So we kept driving to Port Soller and had a nice walk around the water and tried to make sense of the menus etc…  We ended up getting ice cream.

We then headed through some towns and ended up in Palma (the capital of Mallorca).. The traffic was horrific through the town centre. We then headed back up to the flat. We’ve seen some fantastic views and are loving the sun and warm weather we are having.

I would prefer to be in mallorca in this very moment, but unfortunately I am just a bit dejected Mamma Partille – welcome to the suburban lifestyle AND it is just so pouring rain over Southern Sweden today:-/ there are days oneself can feel himself/herself very little and sometimes life kind a goes down in minor key.. probably my ego will be big&happyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy tomorrow again though:-) xoxoxoxoxo

There is a Wall in Staffordshire, a Wall in Northumbria; there is also a Wall Bank and a Wall Hill. There are Walls with additions, such as Wallasey, others that have lost one of their doubles, like Walmer, and which are not walls but Welsh – respectively, island of the Welsh and lake of the Welsh, curiously enough, given that Walmer is in Kent. Not all Walls that have been similarly added to or stripped of an “l” are Welsh; Walsall is Walh’s valley, Waltham, an estate by a wood. The Walls of Staffordshire and Northumbria are specific walls – Roman. 

The town of Muro is also a wall. The name means “wall”. It is not Welsh or Walh but also Roman, or so it is believed. There seems to be some debate. The Arabs kept the name, nonetheless, and in the process of their occupation also granted the name of Albufera to the wetlands that stretched further than they now do. Albufera was once Al Buhayra, but is still, primarily, a piece of nature that belongs to Muro. The resort of Playa de Muro sounds exotic with its Spanish title, less so when one translates it as Wall Beach. Yet it is, of course, Wall Beach that most people – tourists – know, except those who believe that Wall Beach is part of The Hill, or Alcúdia to give it its currently correct name; the Arabs were responsible for that as well.

Travel from The Hill along the coast road, pass through Wall Beach, turn right at the Home of Picafort and head off to Wall, and you pass the woods that conceal what will become the Wall golf course and also pass richly terracotta brown earth that grows potatoes and other vegetables and which provides, together with the earth of Sa Pobla, the country kitchen of northern Mallorca. Take this road to Wall, and you eventually arrive at a roadside industrial estate, a garage and a Pepsi distribution centre. Like other towns of the north – Pollensa, for example – in which the outskirts are non-resplendent, the entry to Wall is misleading. It threatens drabness, a lack of scale, functionality rather than grandeur. But unless you turn your back on Wall and drive off through the agricultural lands towards Sa Pobla or take the road of broken tarmac for Palma, you cannot avoid going into the centre of Wall. And you need to really go into the centre, to the square to which, on one side, lies the town hall and, on the other, the parish church.

How inadequate parish church sounds. It is reminiscent of demur English countryside and understated small scale. Because if the entrance into Wall hints at little of scale that lies within, you cannot miss, once in the centre, the colossal presence of the Muro parish church. It is the most forbidding, impressive, massive of the local town churches. In Pollensa, on the Plaça Major, the church there is a vertical elevation of Gothic Hammer horror. It should, you feel, topple on top of you. Its sudden rise from the town’s main square is the Munch scream of a shock that accompanies its appearance and encounter, but it is town house church by comparison with Muro’s, wrapped in the surrounds of the Plaça. Alcúdia’s Sant Jaume can only truly be appreciated from a distance, from the ruins of Pollentia or from further away, a colossus on the landscape. In Muro, the church assails you in its isolation and with its sheer leviathan magnificence. It is a beast of religiosity. 

People – tourists – don’t go to Muro, much. They should. If only to be dwarfed by the church. The sadness of the centre and the square with no cafés between the church and the town hall is that they concreted it over. It needs to still be dust. Were it to be so, it would complement more colourfully the sandstone of the huge blocks that constitute the church. In hottest summer, as the temperatures nudge a hundred, this square, given back to dust and sand, with the brooding threat of the church, would be man with no name land, spaghetti western Mallorca. They may have spoiled it, placed plastic chairs around the edges of the square, on which old men sit and talk away the odd hour, but the centre, because of the church, is still an astonishing manifestation of unexpected scale. You should go there.

The mushroom period is upon us in a big way this year. Everywhere in Mallorca’s markets we find a plentitude of Girgolas, Llenguas de Bous, Peus Blaus, Esclatassangs, Picornells, Bolets, Setas de Avila and whatnots. It is a sheer pleasure to see such a variety and to have so much choice, for me anyway. Right now, the Mallorcan woods, mountains and garrigas allows us to forage for food, as long as one is into mushrooms. I have recommended the Bolets de les Balears guidebook (in Catalan only) before. It comes in two volumes at 45 € and is a very comprehensive guide.

The mountain village of Mancor de la Vall celebrates the 7th Fira de l’Esaclata-sang i de la Muntanya next Sunday (November 29th). If you are a mushroom lover, do not miss this occasion. The ajmancordelavall.net website offers a pdf download with the full programme details, if you should be so inclined.

The photo was taken in Caimari, Mallorca, Baleares, Spain. The date: November 22nd, 2009. The time was 13:36:42.

http://dbalears.cat/arxiu/pdf/113/40

Mitjan setmana arriba el dimecres i, amb ell, el programa 450 d’El crepuscle encén estels · IB3 Ràdio, 21:00 ·, en el qual Tomeu Orell entrevistarà CARME MORELL, doctora en Filologia Catalana i guionista de TV. És ben conegut l’impuls que ha suposat per al panorama audiovisual el desenvolupament de les sèries de ficció a TV3. I, en els guions d’algunes de les més reconegudes i exitoses, hi ha participat la nostra selenita d’avui: Nissaga de poder, Laberint d’ombres, El cor de la ciutat, i Ventdelplà. Aquesta darrera sèrie té una estructura novedosa, de dos capítols per setmana, ambientats a un poble; poble que és recreat als exteriors de Breda, una localitat de La Selva que no arriba als 4.000 habitants, i que té un actiu Grup de Dones que per a commemorar el 8 de Març celebra un Sopar de Dones que es convocà per primer cop el 2008 amb  …450 participants

…450, precisament, com Crepuscles comptam fins el dia d’avui.

· IB3 ràdio en directe · http://streaming01.ib3radio.com:8000/ib3radio.mp3

Mallorca’s Moroccan population is busy preparing for Eid al-Adha (the Festival of Sacrifice, November 29th) when corderos will be slaughtered in Felanitx and elsewhere on the island. I think I might be invited by one of our neighbours.

Mallorcan families celebrate matanzas during this time of year, when pigs are sacrificed albeit not for religious reasons. An age old farming tradition is upheld here in the countryside. November/December is the time of the year when pigs are slaughtered to provide food for most of the year: sobrassadas, butifarrons, lomo and embutidos. Of course, pigs are a no-no for Muslims, but cerdos provided staple food for many of our Mallorcan neighbours during centuries, or so I believe. Matanzas are a laborious yet joyous event and a great Mallorcan tradition.

I have recently heard that having a matanza at home involving the killing of a pig does not conform to rules and regulations any longer and is deemed alegal. I cannot believe that to be true. Dozens of families that I know in our area had their matanzas already, over the last few weeks, or have them planned for the next few weeks. Perhaps it is a matter of authorities turning a blind eye as everybody senses that this is a tradition that may not live for much longer due to the changes that affect rural Spain and contemporary Mallorca. We’ll see.

A splendid book has just been published that celebrates the matanza del cerdo in Mallorca, called Porcs – Mirades tallades. Gori Vicens (Palma, 1968) is the artist behind the powerful photographs in this large format book, whilst artist Albert Pinya (Palma, 1985) offers some bucolic illustrations. The impressive visuals are accompanied by a passionate and vibrant text from the pen of Andreu Manresa (Felanitx, 1955), an El País journalist and a food lover. He lives just round the corner from our house here in Felanitx.

The book is published by Institut d’Estudis Baleàrics and retails at 45 €; it would make for a perfect gift for Christmas or for any other occasion if you want to show that you care for Mallorca and its traditions.

The top two photos were taken by Cati B. near Felanitx, Mallorca, Baleares, Spain. The date: November 21st, 2009. The time was 08:36:47 and 11:12:03, respectively. The bottom two photos were taken from the Internet, courtesy of dbalears.cat. Copyright for these two photos is held by Gori Vicens and the Institut d’Estudis Baleàrics.

Moltes gràcies.

Avui dimarts arribam al programa 449 d’El crepuscle encén estels · IB3 Ràdio, 21:00 ·  Al Crepuscle no entenem gaire aquella distinció tan tòpica entre Ciències i Lletres; és més, alguns dels qui ens seim en aquesta taula la combatem, fervorosament, des de les Ciències Socials. Pot començar una persona els estudis d’Enginyeria de Mines i acabar com a llicenciat de Filologia Catalana, consultor de la UOC, i membre de la secció Filològica de l’IEC ?? És el cas del professor eivissenc ENRIC RIBES I MARÍ, autor –d’entre molts altres articles– de La toponímia d’Eivissa en relació amb la valenciana, publicat (2008) al nº 108-109 del Butlletí Interior de la Societat d’Onomàstica, a partir de la seva pàgina …449

449, mira per on, com Crepuscles comptam fins el dia d’avui.

· IB3 ràdio en directe · http://streaming01.ib3radio.com:8000/ib3radio.mp3

You know all that guff about what it is to be English or British. “To be English is to get blind drunk and hurl abuse at foreigners.” That sort of thing. You must have come across it. You may even have read the books. Paxo and the rest. There was even Gordy Brown and his Britishness kick a few years ago. Don’t know what happened to all that, though he’d now have to add claiming expenses for buying a box of Hobnobs or building a moat around an Englishman’s castle that is his home (and note that it is an Englishman’s home and not a Scotsman’s or a Welshman’s, as they presumably don’t have castles in Scotland or Wales). He would also have to add being the country with the most surveillance anywhere in Europe and having a financial sector that has led the rest of Europe to describe all Brits as a “complete bunch of bankers”. John Major once lent his considerable insight into Englishness – old maids on bikes drinking warm beer, or something like that, and prime ministers with oversized blue underpants. I wonder what Gordon wears. No, sorry, actually I don’t wonder. It’s a deeply disturbing image, and I’ll stop it.

Wherever one turns, though, there is now a country, an island, a province, a town or city conducting a highly anal and collective exercise of navel-gazing (which is quite a feat of anatomy). “What’s it like to be …? (Add as applicable.) What’s it like to be an Alsatian (if you come from Alsace)? What’s it like to be a Maltese? And no, the answer does not include being round and having a honeycomb centre or being made to be cross. What’s it like to be from Leicester? Pass.

Into this rich vein of social self-research now wade the Mallorcans who I should really refer to as Mallorquíns because that is what they are, and don’t they just let you know it, because getting the language spot-on is as important to the inhabitants of Mallorca as practising a perfect cover drive is to an Englishman. “The Diario”, bless it, had this thing at the weekend that was entitled “¿Qué es ser mallorquín?”, which will probably have brought forth a considerable amount of nationalist opprobrium because it was in Spanish. It’s all about the language, you see. That, and the culture, the beautiful land, the fiestas … . God knows, it could have been the tourist board offering the answers, or some drippy brochure. Given that Messrs Brown and Major have had recourse to pronounce on matters British or English, Balearics president, Francesc Antich, should be given prominence for his views on being Mallorquín, or rather what Mallorca is: “A land that has its own distinctiveness in terms of language, culture, traditions and marvellous natural resources.” Fantastic. He’s been reading the tourist board’s website as well. Nothing about political corruption, greedy landlords and unreliable opening hours.

Does it matter, though, if you were not born in Mallorca? Can you be Mallorquín, having come from West Bromwich, let’s say? Well, it would appear that you can be, as several respondents to the “Diario” question reckon so. On noting this, I turned, as has been the case previously, to the book “Beloved Majorcans”. In its opening pages are some quotes, one of which says: “One doesn’t belong to a place for having been born there; one belongs to the place that captivated your gaze.” The article in “The Diario” mentions the opinion that many foreigners can appear to be more Mallorquín than the Mallorquíns, which may come as a bit of a surprise to those gathering in a Brit bar for a game of bingo. But then of course, the Mallorquíns play bingo as well. Nevertheless, there may be some truth to this opinion, but only because some foreigners in a foreign land take a more active interest in seeking to understand and embrace where they live because they don’t know it intimately and, more importantly, don’t just take it for granted. And that is the crux of all these debates about what’s it like to be. It just is, because that’s where you grew up. Unless you are an academic, are wanting to sell a book or are John Major, you don’t, as a rule, go around the local Tesco’s thinking about the meaning of Englishness. You just are, unless you are not. And so it is with the Mallorquíns. When they’re shouting their heads off in a bar or in the street, they may be offering – at high volume – a clear indication that they are Mallorquín, but do they stop and think why? They shout, because that’s what they do, and with an impenetrable accent that sounds like a cat being strangled whilst simultaneously eating the entire annual potato crop of Sa Pobla.

Nevertheless, if you are going to have this debate, then something a bit more incisive than the language and the culture is demanded, as language and culture are the two intermingled essentials for any notion of what’s it like to be. But let’s finish this piece with the words of Gertrude Stein, again from “Beloved Majorcans”. In response to a question from Robert Graves as to whether Mallorca was a good place to “settle down”, she said: “Yes, it’s paradise, if you can stand it.”

John Hirst – a further footnote

Setting up a dodgy Ponzi scheme is not indicative of having become Mallorquín, despite what some might say about a certain trait of alleged dishonesty that some Mallorquíns are prone to. But this is what Mr. Hirst seemingly did. He is now co-operating with the SFO who will be keen to know where the moolah is. Some ideas about this have been floating around. It may be that the combined journalistic forces of “The Sunday Times” and “The Sunday Telegraph” (especially the latter) know. The story is unfolding slowly. The Allied Dunbar connection was known last week but was only confirmed by the Sunday press at the weekend, which does emphasise the fact that when it comes to serious stuff like the Hirst case, it is probably best left to journalists with the resources and muscle of the Sundays to do the digging to really verify claims. Much though I was tempted to have used the stuff I was being sent last week, I couldn’t be sure. But now I am, because the Sundays say so. If you missed it, here is the Telegraph’s story:

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/europe/spain/6622169/Majorca-based-British-financier-investigated-by-SFO-convicted-of-offence-in-1990s.html

Fotógrafo: Alexey Lapin

Un tipejo subido a un monopatín destrozando un valioso bordillo y perseguido por otro tío que le graba mientras va encima del mismo “juguete” . Igual algo así eso es lo que piensa esa pareja, o quizás no… más de una vez he pasado patinando muy cerca de alguna anciana por las Ramblas y yo pensando que me devolvería una cara de mal rollo va y me devuelve unas risas y se agradece bastante. Lo que nunca falla la típica frase de: “Pero cuidado chico, ¡que te vas a partir la crisma!“

Pincha en la imagen para ver más fotos de Alexey Lapin.

_______________________________________________________________

Kontakt: Bernd Kugler

To the southwest of Santa Ponça in the Calvià municipality one finds a cluster of small islands with the names of Illa dels Conills (also known as Islote de ses Rates), L’Olla and Es Malgrat, extending over a length of approximately 2.5 km and covering some 138 ha. This archipelago of Malgrat-Olla-Conills was declared a Reserva Marina (Marine Reserve) in 2004, together with that of nearby Illa Toro. Marine reserves in Mallorca do not quite have the full protection of nature reserves but are sheltered to a considerable degree. Thanks to this protection, a great number of species find a safe refuge here, where they may reproduce in peace, maintaining a natural age structure and diversity. Algae, fish, jellyfish and coral, as well as extensive fields of underwater sea grass meadows of Posidonia oceánica coexist in this area, together with sepias, moray eels, seabass, sea horses, octupus macropus, seacows and red starfish, to name but a few. On land, one can find the protected Corys shearwater, swifts, cormorants and puffins, as well as the Balearic lizard.

One can only get to these small islands by boat or by swimming. Once there, certain kinds of fishing are prohibited: scuba fishing, professional fishing, artisan fishing and fishing competitions. Individual fishing is permitted, i. e. fishing with rod and reel, as long as a valid fishing license is secured. But the fishing of certain species of fish is prohibited: the Angel fish, the Freckled catshark, the Spotted torpedo, and sea horses. Some crustaceans are also protected, such as crabs and crawfish and some species of molluscs such as the Marine Snail, the Astraea Rugosa and the Octopus, to name but a few.

Swimming as well as paddling in canoes or kayaks is allowed. Diving is allowed for individuals once the special permits have been obtained locally, or as part of organised excursions, which are offered from local diving schools. Catamaran excursions are available at a price on a regular basis during the winter months.

If you just want to have a distant look at the islotes, Cap Negret in Santa Ponça affords some splendid views over the Malgrat archipelago, absolutely free of charge.

The photo was borrowed from the Internet. My thanks go to Diario de Mallorca. The map was also borrowed from the Web, courtesy of Guía Náutica de las Islas Baleares.

Muchas gracias.

You know the confession game; the sort of thing you might get on radio. Phone us now with one thing you have never done that mostly all adults would have been expected to have done. Never driven a car!? Never been to a pub!? Never watched X Factor!? 

I cannot claim any of the above, but there is one confession I have. And it is this. Until yesterday, I had never attended an ESRA event. Ever. There. I feel cleansed. I have come out as being ESRA-phobic. But now I am ESRA-phile. Possibly. 

ESRA, the English Speaking Residents Association, held its “mediaeval fayre” in the cloister of Pollensa’s Sant Domingo yesterday. A place more reverentially associated with the sophistication of the classics of the Pollensa Music Festival and less obviously and most absurdly Tony Hadley. From outside the cloister, there was a dreadful sense of foreboding: a Middle Ages and middle-aged Frank Sinatra giving it large with a full “My Way” treatment. From the old courtyard that this past summer staged Joanna MacGregor, the London Gospel Choir and cellists of the Berlin Philharmonic, there came the sheer horror that is “Agadoo”. Push pineapple. Except there weren’t any pineapples to push. There was, though, a pig on a gas spit, someone with a tea towel on his head and some very mediaeval stands devoted to security systems and currency transfer. It needed some inquisition, a touch of “auto de fe”, but the only “tormento” was a set of stocks and a bloke being assaulted by small children with wet sponges; oh, and Black Lace, who were frequently to be found at the court of Edward III, even if Edward – it has been revealed in historical documents – did have a preference for Russ Abbot and his fabulous mediaeval madrigal, “(Oh What An) Atmosphere”.

This was a peculiarly English weekend. On Saturday, there was the car boot sale without any car boots at Puerto Alcúdia’s Jolly Roger. Not that this is an exclusively English/British occasion, just that it is something of a weekly rendezvous and gossip-exchanging point for old Britannia. The two events, the Roger’s and the fayre, were worlds apart, and not just in terms of location. One cast one’s eyes around the cloister of Sant Domingo. How many were there from Alcúdia? Hard to say, but only a very few who were recognisably so. One cast one’s eyes around the Roger’s terraces. How many were there from Pollensa? None, or none who were recognisably so. 

Two towns divided by a common language and by a few kilometres. Rarely do the twain meet. It is not only the British. Many a Mallorcan rarely ventures in either direction, but at least the Mallorcans will, usually, be aware of what exists outside of their own domains. How many of the British do? How many in Alcúdia know of Cala San Vicente? Or how many in Pollensa might know of Mal Pas? 

Two towns divided by a perceptual gulf, one of supposed superiority beaten back along the coast road by suggestions of supposed snobbery. Alcúdia is Corrie, karaoke and the Roger’s boot sale; Pollensa is Howards Way, harmonics and ESRA. Two communities in non-alignment, except. Except there is always Black Lace. Could have been Alcúdia – allegedly.

John Hirst – revealed

Well, I had chosen not to use the comments, but now … Perhaps I should. “The Sunday Times” has come clean where others might have preferred not to. It says: “Hirst was sentenced to five years in prison in 1992 for ‘obtaining deception’ while working for Allied Dunbar”. And this, pretty much, is what those comments all said.

Comença la setmana d’El crepuscle encén estels · IB3 Ràdio, 21:00 · amb el programa 448, en el qual ens visitarà GINA SAS, llicenciada en Hª de l’Art i crítica del Diario de Mallorca, per a parlar de la relació entre LA DONA I L’ART, amb exemples com l’obra de la nordamericana Kiki Smith, presentada la passada primavera a la Fundació Joan Miró de Barcelona. En el blog de Gina Sas trobareu més informació de la seva instal·lació Her Memory, però també hi ha els seus darrers escrits sobre la mostra de Joana Vasconcelos a l’Ajub d’Es Baluard de Palma. Són 428 mòduls de 3 flors de fibra de nylon il·luminades a través d’un dispositiu interior; he dit 428? Tenim temps fins el mes de febrer, però si hi anam demà se’n compleixen precisament 20 dies de la inauguració. Si afegim aquests 20 als 428 mòduls tendrem …448

…448, ja ho val, com Crepuscles comptam fins el dia d’avui.

· IB3 ràdio en directe ·

http://streaming01.ib3radio.com:8000/ib3radio.mp3

Occasionally I get a bit bored with writing blog posts, so here’s a slideshow.  Being an architecture student I understand the value of visuals compared to text.  So here you go, the rest of my pictures from Mallorca including new ones from Deia, a Danish architect’s house Can Lis (he was the designer of the Sydney Opera House) and the capital city of Palma de Mallorca.  If you really want to know what they are of, just click the show info button and descriptions pop up.  Enjoy.

watch Mallorca vs Almeria online live stream TV sport 11/22, 22 Nov 2009. This Sport Games Starting time will be at 11:00 ET(US) or 17:00 CET (Europe). We will update the link several hours/minutes before the scheduled starting time. The live stream feed provided from free video tv hosting sites like ustream, justin tv, p2p, sopcast, tvu, tvants, uusee, etc. You can watch online Sport Live TV stream channel on November, 22 2009. The sport tv we cover here is NHL, NBA, KHL, NFL, AHL, NCAA, MLB, AHL, MLS, Soccer, EPL, Champion, UEFA, FIFA, U20, U17,  Football, Hockey, Basketball, SERIE A, NASCAR, F1, GP and others. If there is any of free tv hosting that airs these sport tv channel, we will update the link for you. Dont Miss to watch live sport tv between Mallorca vs Almeria online . Please click on below link to watch, online, free, live, stream, sport, tv, at 11/22 2009, Mallorca vs Almeria.

Click here To watch Live stream free online Sport TV

Free live internet TV by online streaming is the best way to enjoy your sports shows on internet. Especially with the arrival of high-speed Internet today. It allows you to live stream and watch your favourite Live football, live basketball, Live soccer, Baseball and Hockey league matches via online streaming. Today there is game match between Mallorca vs Almeria. Other famous game in these categories that we coverhere are NBA, NCAA, NFL, MLB, AHL, KHL, NHL, MLS, UEFA, Champion League, FIFA, U20, U21, U17, Uropean Cup, Serie A (Italy), EPL (England), NPL (Spain), Bundesliga (Germany),  NASCAR, F1, GP and others.

There are thousands collections of Live internet TV hosting sites and video feeds. You can Watch Live streaming TV Stations or channels from many source. But to search and point your intended channels sometimes is very difficult since one site can offer thousand of free TV sport channel in just one day.  So Here, we provide summary of links that will provide free live streaming TV sports. In this site We focus on the  Baseball, Basketball, Hockey, soccer and other more spesific segment. Most watch free TV stations we cover for  Sport here are from, USA & Canada and some other popular sports in Europe and arround the world. Check out our featured free tv sport online live stream today 22 November 2009 (11/22) for Mallorca vs Almeria.  We will find the links from ustream, justin tv, p2p, sopcast, tvu, tvants, uusee, etc. So don’t need to worry about miss one of our favorite TV sport game match, we can now catch them online, usually just 24 hours later it will be stored in the hosting site, it depends on their policy. You can easily select and click to watch Mallorca vs Almeria and others sport channel online stream here.