After a short but peaceful night, we get ready to leave early, aiming to reach Pollença before the wind and rain catch up with us. The engine starts, the anchor is lifted and we set off. Behind the mountainous rocks, the wind is somewhat calm, although we're mostly heading straight into it. Fortunately, the waves haven't arrived yet, so for now, it's a smooth journey. After about two hours, we round the cape. We've managed to stay ahead of the waves and reach the other side without any issues. Unfortunately, the wind then mostly dies down, while the waves start to pick up. We unfurl the headsail, but keep the engine running a bit longer to continue sailing comfortably. We then try sailing under wind power alone, but with less than 10 knots of true wind and a rolling sea that makes the boat rock, it's far from pleasant. So the engine goes back on. We're relieved when we sail into the bay. It's quiet there; only our friends from SV Donna and New Hope are anchored. The water is calm. We tidy up the boat, eat something and treat ourselves to a well-deserved nap.

We are sailing in a flotilla towards Cala Sant Vicenç and keeping in touch via VHF channel 77. Not long after, Thomas lets us know that dolphins are swimming around his boat, and shortly after, we spot them too. Sailing Donna is lucky, as the dolphins swim directly toward their boat. From a distance, we only see occasional splashes and a few dorsal fins. We are clearly the slowest in the group and quickly fall behind, but it doesn’t really bother us. It feels like mid-summer: no breeze, a bright sun and only some gentle swells. The water maker is running, the washing machine is doing its thing and we're making ice cubes for iced coffee. It feels like a luxury sail. Five miles from our destination, the weather starts to change. The sky is cloudy, but there is still no wind. Our friends are already in the bay, which is otherwise completely empty. The surrounding buildings and hotels aren’t exactly a pleasant sight, but the water is crystal clear, and we have a beautiful patch of white sand to drop our anchor on. Dark clouds are rolling in from the mountains, and we hear the first rumbles of thunder, but fortunately, most of the storm passes us by. In the evening, we are visited by the Guardia Civil. They check our boat papers, IDs, and boating license.

We rented a car for three days and drove towards Artà. There, we strolled through the charming little town and went for a walk in the Parc Natural de la Península de Llevant. At the top of the hill, we were rewarded with a stunning view over the bay. Definitely worth it. The next day, we followed the coastline and stopped in Figuera, Cala d'Or and Portocolom. In Portocolom, we found a bench and had some baguette, grapes and cheese. Simple, but so delicious. One of those little moments that just makes you happy. On our last day with the car, we took care of a few practical things. I had a hospital appointment with a specialist. It was necessary, in theory, but the specialist did so little that it ended up feeling pretty pointless. After that, we made a quick stop at Leroy Merlin. Then we returned the car at the airport and took the bus back to Alcúdia. There, we started our round of goodbyes. Although “goodbye” might be a bit much, since chances are we’ll run into many of these people again somewhere on the Mediterranean. We had lunch with Margau and Alex from the sailing boat Alma, enjoyed a drink on deck with Isabelle and Benjamin from Malou, and later went out for Indian food. We also ran into Benny and Sonja from Tai Pan, a couple from Antwerp we had already met last year in Mallorca. Always nice to see familiar faces again. The night before our departure, we celebrated Stevie’s birthday with a cosy dinner on her boat. And then the moment came. On Thursday, May 08th, we cast off the lines and set off once more.

Next stop: Sóller! Monday has something special in store: a pirate battle in the bay. It is a re-enactment we definitely do not want to miss. We leave the bay of Cala Bóquer and are immediately met by gusty downdrafts rushing down from the mountains. Before long, we are able to hoist the sails. Behind us, the sky turns dark grey and we watch the rain pour down like a thick curtain. Luckily, we stay just ahead of the storm and sail straight into the sunshine. Couldn’t have timed it better. We also make sure to give Nelly some extra love today, it’s her birthday after all. She’s 15 now! When we arrive in Sóller, the search for a good anchorage begins. Our friends Ben and Caetlin from Sailing Donna are already in the bay and send us some helpful tips on which boats are on moorings and which are properly anchored. On our second try, the anchor finally holds. The next day, we head out with Ben, Caetlin, and Thomas from New Hope. First we stop for coffee, then we do some grocery shopping, and finally we walk back loaded with full backpacks and a little cart trailing behind us. Sunday, May 11 is quite rainy, so we take it easy and stay onboard for most of the day. Then, on Monday, May 12, the celebration begins. It is much bigger than we had expected. Early in the morning, we already hear loud bangs all around us. We meet up on Thomas’s catamaran for piña coladas and snacks. With six people, every bit of space is welcome. A little background might help explain what we are witnessing. The celebration is called El Firó, an annual event that commemorates the victory of the people of Sóller over an attack by Barbary pirates in 1561. The entire town transforms into a vibrant historical stage filled with costumes, swords, cannons, war cries and complete chaos. Everyone gets involved. Some people are dressed as Moors, others as Christian defenders. The scenes unfold on the beach, in the bay and in the town square. We all climb into Thomas’s dinghy with snacks and drinks and head into the heart of the action. The battle begins on the water. Pirates approach by boat while fireworks and smoke bombs go off all around us. One even lands in our dinghy. There is so much happening that we can barely take it all in. The pirates make their first attempt to land but are pushed back. They try again at another beach. It is spectacular and we are so happy we got to witness it. After spending hours in the hot sun, we return to Thomas’s catamaran and fire up the barbecue. We enjoy chicken, shrimp, pineapple, coleslaw, pasta salad, and more. It truly feels like a feast. Later, we watch the sunset and spend almost an hour discussing where to sail next. It is not easy to decide with the weather being so unpredictable. The following morning around 10 o’clock, we pull up the anchor and set course for Cala Sant Vicenç.

The sea is like a mirror as we sail out of the bay of Alcudia. I look behind me and already feel a sense of nostalgia when I think of our new friends in the bay. What a unique life we have, and creating new memories and saying goodbye to each other are definitely part of it. Still, it always feels a bit strange, especially when we’ve stayed in one place for a long time. After five months, everything felt so familiar and safe. Today we’re heading towards Cala Bóquer, which, if I could choose, is definitely my favorite bay on Mallorca. As I mentioned, the sea is like a mirror, so we start with the engine on for the first few hours. After that, we can sail, but at a very slow pace. The cliffs along Mallorca’s coastline are impressive, and we can’t help but be in awe of them. Just before entering the bay of Cala Bóquer, I spot a group of dolphins either hunting or playing. At least five bottlenose dolphins, the larger kind. They're still far off, but you can clearly make out their fins and shiny backs. Dolphins, finally! We avoid the Posidonia and drop our anchor in crystal-clear, pool-blue water. People on the shore are lying on the small beach or the rocks, accompanied by a few goats. Small, blue fish swim under our boat. We don’t have any internet here, so we fully enjoy our offline day. The wind shifts, and our chain gets stuck behind a rock. We’ll sort that out tomorrow. That evening, we see the dolphins again near the entrance of the bay. They’re playing with the only fishing buoy floating around. The wind dies down, the sun sets, and the sound of cicadas echoes through the bay. Wonderful! There are no buildings here, so no light pollution, but the sky is so cloudy that we can barely see any stars. We’re in for a quiet night. Greg tells me it rained, but I was sleeping so deeply that I didn’t notice anything. The next day, we leave as the wind picks up again. Our anchor chain comes loose easily. On to Soller!

The Fira de la Sípia has kicked off again, a yearly culinary and nautical festival that celebrates local maritime traditions with the squid as the star of the show. We wander around a bit and have to admit, there is more going on than we expected. Stalls everywhere serve up squid-based dishes, there is a lively market, nautical exhibitions, live music and even a big fair. It is all quite fun, although a little too crowded for our liking. We are simply not used to being surrounded by so many people anymore. Then the weather changes. The week starts with rain and grey skies. For us, it is the perfect time to install our new watermaker, the Schenker Zen30. The strong winds create some chaos in the bay. One of the boats breaks loose and drifts into Stevie’s boat. We see it all happen. Greg immediately jumps into the dinghy. Together with Lluis and a few others, they manage to secure the boat just in time. The owner had been working on the beach and witnessed the whole thing. Thankfully, he was nearby and could safely re-anchor his boat. In the end, both boats escape with only minor damage. On April 19, I prepare for a long hike of 23 kilometers. From Port d’Alcudia, I head toward Albufera, following the 11.5 kilometer trail and then walking the same route back. Along the way, butterflies dance around me, birds sing their sweetest songs and the air is filled with the scent of wildflowers and fresh grass. I feel fantastic. On Easter Monday, the bay is full of life. Motorboats cruising around, jet skis flying by and people paddling around on SUPs. It’s busy but in a fun way. We hop into our dinghy and set course for the little island with the lighthouse of Alcanada. There is not much to do there. A simple path leads to the lighthouse and that is pretty much it. But among the rocks, it feels like a different world. We go searching for treasures and find all sorts of things. Tiny hermit crabs, bright red starfish, curious little fish, swaying anemones and even a crab make an appearance. We also take a short sailing trip around the bay, just about an hour and a half out and back. Conditions are excellent and we sail at a good pace, around five to six knots in fifteen knots of wind. When we return, I drop the boat hook into the water. Of course, it sinks straight to the bottom. Luckily, the next morning the water is calm and still, like a mirror, and we are able to retrieve it quickly. The rest of the month passes peacefully. We catch up with friends, take care of a few small jobs on board, enjoy the quiet moments and slowly begin making plans to set off again. All we need now is a good weather window. With this unpredictable spring weather, that may be easier said than done.

Finally, the first barbecue of the year on board! Such a fun and relaxed way to kick off April. Time is flying and by now we almost feel like locals in the bay. It’s not too busy yet and since we’re not alone here, we’re totally fine with staying put for a while. If the weather plays along, we’d like to do some day trips this month to get back into the sailing groove. We don’t really have big sailing plans for this year. Maybe head towards Corsica and then on to Greece? We’ll see. No fixed route, just going wherever we feel like and following our intuition. At least the first week of April is off to a great start. The weather is amazing, we’re relaxing on board, did a solid 19-kilometer hike from Port d’Alcudia to Coll Baix and back, spent a lovely afternoon on Stevie’s boat and are just soaking in all the beauty this unique lifestyle has to offer.

We’re up early. A quick grocery run, then we head back out to sea. The wind forecast calls for strong easterlies, so we decide to sail towards Port d’Alcúdia already. Better now than battling waves later. Along the way, a lone dolphin glides by, barely paying us any attention. Where have all the playful ones gone? Around three in the afternoon, we arrive in our familiar bay. In the distance, we see Stevie waving at us. We tie up to the buoy and instantly feel at home again. This weekend, Port d’Alcúdia is all about the Fira de la Sípia, an annual celebration of maritime traditions and the pride of the local cuisine: cuttlefish. It promises to be a weekend full of flavour, music and discovery. We’re looking forward to it!

As soon as we’re free from the mooring buoy, we set course for Pollença. The trip takes a bit longer than expected, but the sea is calm and there’s just enough wind to sail so we’re not complaining. We have to tack a few times to stay on course. No dolphins today, but we do spot thousands of Velella velella, drifting by like a purple-blue blanket on the water. It’s kind of magical. By late afternoon, we drop anchor in a nearly empty bay near La Fortaleza. It used to be a military fort, but now it’s a luxury wedding venue. We end the day with a sunset and a laid-back barbecue on the boat.

I wake up with severe stomach pain. I had been dealing with it for two weeks already, but it gradually got worse. Time to see a doctor. Luckily, I can get an appointment quickly after sending a message via WhatsApp. After a short examination, I am referred to the hospital for a blood test and further check-ups. Not exactly how I had envisioned my Monday… So, some logistical planning is needed. The hospital is in Palma, a 40-minute drive from Port d’Alcudia, so we rent a car for the day. When we arrive in Palma, we accidentally go to the wrong hospital (which we only realize after an hour in the waiting room), but I receive good care. After some further tests, I am allowed to leave the hospital after 3.5 hours. Fortunately, I feel a bit better the next day. We still have the rental car for half a day, so we make the most of it. We drive to Cala Bóquer for a walk through beautiful nature: cliffs, wild goats, trees and blooming shrubs, with the highlight being the azure blue Mediterranean Sea at the end of the trail. We take a moment to reflect, eat our lunch and walk back to the car. On the way back, a baby goat greets us. Cala Bóquer remains a magical place. For the rest of the week, the wind and waves come from the wrong direction, blowing straight into the bay. We feel a bit trapped by the weather. But it could always be worse. Apart from a few showers, it stays dry, and the rocking isn’t bad enough to make things fall off the table. As for me, Julie, my condition fluctuates. Sometimes, the pain suddenly hits after eating, only to disappear again after a few minutes or hours. It’s still a mystery. I start keeping a journal, noting my symptoms and what I eat or do each day. And then, it’s the week of my (Julie’s) birthday. The sun is shining and it truly feels like spring. I take a dip in the water, we walk along the coast of Playa de Alcanada, and of course, we celebrate my birthday. Greg prepares a big breakfast and in the evening, we go out for dinner with our sailing friends, followed by drinks at the Irish pub. A lovely evening and I’m grateful for all the great people we’ve met on this journey. After another rough night with strong winds, the real spring weather finally arrives. I can’t wait for long walks, barbecues, swimming and carefree relaxation on the deck.

After almost five months on Mallorca, we set foot on a new island. After a tough crossing (see previous blog), we arrived in Ciutadella, a charming harbor town on the Menorcan coast. Despite our fatigue, we don’t want to let Greg’s birthday pass unnoticed. After a refreshing nap, we take a warm shower and decide to have dinner at a cozy pizzeria. Our boat is docked in the Ports IB marina, where we are joined by four other inhabited boats at the pier. One of the first things we notice is the countless stranded Velella velella lining the harbor’s edge. Velella velella, also known as “by-the-wind sailors,” are fascinating, floating colonial organisms. They look like small, blue disks with a transparent “sail” that allows the wind to carry them across the sea. Although they resemble jellyfish, they belong to the hydrozoa, a different group within the cnidarians. When they wash ashore in large numbers, they create a striking blue carpet on beaches and in harbors. Their massive presence often indicates shifting wind directions and ocean currents. The next day, we have a vet appointment for Finn. He needs a new rabies vaccination and a general check-up. Finn is not thrilled about it and meows the entire way to the vet from inside his backpack. Once there, he tries to hide in my sweater but patiently endures all the examinations. The verdict: Finn needs to go on a diet and the vet advises us to remove the white spot (a type of scar tissue) on his head. Luckily, he is otherwise completely healthy! Just in time for the next rain shower, we make it back to the boat. As soon as the weather clears, we head out to explore the town. Unfortunately, it looks a bit deserted. The shops and most restaurants are still closed and the streets are empty. The gloomy weather likely plays a role in this. A poster on the theater’s facade catches my attention. I quickly book tickets online, and that evening, we are immersed for 80 minutes in the intense world of flamenco. More rain the next day, but we don’t let it dampen our spirits. Between showers, we explore the city, which feels livelier now that it’s the weekend. We stroll through the market, buy sobrasada, taste tapas at El Hogar del Pollo and browse the small, cozy shops Ciutadella has to offer. In the late afternoon, we prepare the boat for departure. Originally, we had planned to sail from Menorca to France, but the weather forecasts for the coming days and weeks are not favorable. So, we decide to return to our familiar bay in Port d’Alcudia. We end the day with a beautiful sunset. A perfect farewell to Ciutadella before setting sail once again.

The new month begins with gloomy weather. The sky is gray, a cold north wind blows harshly, and dark clouds predict rain. We do the laundry—the basket was overflowing again—and take a beach walk. The sand, whipped up by the wind, stings my eyes. This isn’t quite how we imagined the start of the spring month. The next day is Sunday and we head to the market. There are more stalls and it’s bustling with activity. Tourists are returning to Mallorca, we notice it everywhere. Restaurants that were closed all winter get a fresh coat of paint and hotels set out their parasols and beach chairs. Fortunately, the number of boats in the bay remains limited. That evening, we’re at Isa and Benjamin’s for a cheese fondue, perfect for this dreary weather. We end the night with a card game, Ravine. For those unfamiliar: you work together to survive after a plane crash on an island. Really fun! Monday, March 3rd. Greg replaces the water filters while I give the boat a thorough cleaning. Afterward, we pick up a Too Good To Go package and treat ourselves to an ice cream on a terrace. The sun isn’t shining, but it still tastes great! We also get a croissant, a neapolitana roll and five pieces of cake. A little celebration! The next day, I sleep in. The wind howls, and the creaking of the mooring lines on the buoy keeps me awake. Low on energy, I occupy myself with creative tasks on board: drawing, writing and relaxing. The following day, Greg hosts a splicing workshop with Isa and Benjamin. It’s a cozy afternoon aboard Malou while the weather outside remains gray and rainy. In the evening, we enjoy delicious Indian food at Bombay Beach. Saturday, March 8th, the weather clears up. Early in the morning, we head to the marina to prepare the boat. Isa and Benjamin have rented a car and we take a road trip to Sant Elm, a picturesque coastal village in southwest Mallorca. It’s like a postcard: houses draped with bougainvillea in every shade of purple, the azure Mediterranean Sea as a backdrop and the rugged silhouette of Dragonera. The sun shines, people enjoy drinks and snacks on terraces, exactly what we do too. After a short walk, the weather turns, so it’s time for practical errands. We drive to Leroy Merlin and Bauhaus. On Sunday, we skip the market and tackle a to-do list: rinsing the boat, tidying up inside, filling the water tank, doing laundry. In the evening, we reward ourselves with Indian food from our new favorite restaurant. A table full of goodies—pure happiness. The next day, it rains buckets. The streets flood quickly. We go shopping, hopping from awning to awning to avoid the worst of it. Soaked, we return to the boat with a full cart. We load everything in, shower quickly and check out of the marina. Just in time, we take the buoy in the bay as a thunderstorm makes visibility zero. We haven’t seen this much rain in a long time. Luckily, it clears up later. That evening, Lluis and Isabelle visit, and we have a cozy night aboard El Burro. Tuesday was supposed to be our departure day, but the wind and waves keep us put. So, a lazy day on board it is. The next day, we get the boat truly ready. On March 13th, Greg’s birthday, we sail out of the bay with a beautiful sunrise.

Time to head back. We seem well-prepared this time. The boat is neatly tidied up, all loose items are secured, the key has been returned to the marina office and Finn has found a safe spot. After our previous sailing trip, we've become a bit more cautious. The sea can sometimes take you by surprise. There are plenty of waves at the marina entrance again, but luckily they all come from the same direction, making it reasonably comfortable. We keep the engine running until we've passed the tip of the island and the two approaching ferries are behind us. A solitary dolphin quickly swims under our boat. The crossing to Mallorca goes pretty well. There are some waves, but the sails stabilize the boat nicely. Finn is a bit anxious (and who can blame him?) and hides behind a cushion, with only his two ears visible. Meanwhile, Nelly is napping at the bow of the bed — hardcore! A rain shower passes by and the wind picks up. We're going fast! You could almost say we're sailing in a sportive way. We do have to tack a few times to reach Port d'Alcudia. As soon as we enter the Bay of Alcudia, the waves calm down. The last miles always seem the longest, but after a long journey, we grab the mooring buoy in our familiar bay. It almost feels a little like coming home.

Right at 7 o’clock, just before sunrise, we cast off the mooring and head out. The wind has almost completely died down, so we motorsail with the mainsail towards the breathtaking glow of the rising sun. A perfect start to Greg’s birthday! Past the little island of Alcanada, we set course for Menorca. From here, it’s a straight shot to Ciutadella! There’s still only a light breeze, but that’s fine. After a whole winter, the engine could use a good run. The waves make the boat roll a bit and Finn isn’t feeling great. But he goes inside and eats his food, so it can’t be that bad. We’re cruising along at around four knots, perfect! I keep hoping to spot some dolphins. Then the wind picks up and we start flying over the water, regularly hitting over 5.5 knots. The waves get rougher and the boat slides around now and then, but overall, it’s still comfortable. At times, the wind gusts over 30 knots, making things more intense, especially with the choppy waves. We furl the genoa, but the boat stays steady. We steer by hand more often to give our autopilot a break. When the wind dies down again, the waves stick around, making it really uncomfortable. We turn the engine back on, but the boat is getting thrown around in all directions. Then things get even worse—the wind picks up again, this time from the south. Waves are coming at us from every angle. We unfurl a bit of genoa, which helps slightly, but it still feels awful. Turning back isn’t an option with these conditions, so we have no choice but to push on. At one point, Greg grabs onto a handle for support, and a massive wave hits. The thing just snaps off in his hand! The last five miles are brutal. The waves throw us around, and a few times, we nearly lose control. The entrance to the harbor is rough, with waves crashing against the rocks, but we power through at full throttle. Finally, inside the channel, the wind and waves settle, and we manage to dock without any problems. We moor up at a finger pontoon, no help needed. What a birthday sail. The boat is a disaster zone. Bikes have come loose, the cockpit is a mess and inside, it looks like a bomb went off. We do a quick cleanup, check in at the marina, and then just crash for a bit. We’re completely wiped out. And just as we’re settling in, a massive thunderstorm rolls through with heavy rain. At least we didn’t have to deal with that out at sea! The harbor is peaceful now, so we head into town for some food.

The second half of February is calm. We are both down with the flu for a while, so there isn’t much action. We spend most of the day either sleeping or sitting in the sun in the cockpit. There are worse places to be sick. Fortunately, after some time, we regain our energy and start exploring again: we go for walks, I explore the bay on my paddleboard, and we take the dinghy out in search of octopuses. We don’t come across any, but we do discover that there are many wrecks along the rocky shoreline near our anchorage. In the last week of February, after a sunny moment in the cockpit, I suddenly feel the urge to jump into the cold water. First, I cautiously dip my toes in—cold, but bearable. Then, I slowly lower myself from my paddleboard into the water up to my waist and finally decide to go all in, submerging my head completely. The icy cold tingles against my skin and my breath catches for a moment, but afterward, I feel completely refreshed and reborn. I warm up in the sun, though my toes remain ice-cold. Luckily, a hot shower works wonders. Did you know that cold water diving has numerous health benefits? It stimulates circulation, strengthens the immune system and boosts endorphin production, giving a natural happiness kick. That evening, we have dinner with Isa and Benjamin at El Negre, which has now become our favorite restaurant in Puerto d’Alcudia. We had been there the week before as well, but to our disappointment, the famous spare ribs were sold out. So, second attempt! Thankfully, Isa and Benjamin had made a reservation. The ribs, served with roasted corn, stir-fried vegetables, fries and a creamy peanut coconut sauce, are absolutely delicious. It turns into a wonderful evening. We end the last day of February with ice cream at Dolce Vita. Long live Too Good To Go! For just 3 euros, we get three scoops of ice cream and two Neapolitana pastries. A perfect way to wrap up the month.

Ten days away from my familiar surroundings. My world revolves around El Burro, the place where I feel safe and have everything I long for. But still, I had booked a trip to Fuengirola, where my mom and my stepdad Dirk now live. The last time I saw my mom was in February last year when we flew to Belgium for a month to visit family and friends. Now that she lives in the south of Spain and we’re still in Mallorca, visiting is fairly easy. The flights were ridiculously cheap: 50 euros round trip, absurd when you think about it. So there I went, on January 31st, boarding that plane. A metal tube meant to get me safely to my destination. I used to love flying; now, it mostly gives me claustrophobic thoughts. Greg came with me to the airport. Saying goodbye felt strange. I can’t even remember the last time we spent an entire day apart. People sometimes ask how we manage to be together all the time, but honestly, it doesn’t bother me. Maybe that’s a good sign? When I arrived in Málaga, I walked to the exit with a nervous feeling. And there they were: mom and Dirk. Because we video call often, seeing them again felt familiar, as if it had only been a week. We took the train to Fuengirola and I was curious about their apartment and how they lived there. It felt both strange and familiar at the same time, like stepping into a book whose beginning I knew but whose continuation was still unknown. That evening, we had dinner together and caught up. It felt good to have mom and Dirk close, though I did miss Greg. But traveling with two cats by plane? Impossible. Especially with one who’s afraid of the sound of an engine. During my stay, I had also booked a trip to the Caminito del Rey, a famous hiking trail through an impressive gorge. Once one of the most dangerous paths in the world, but since its renovation in 2015, it’s safe and accessible to tourists. The bus ride there took us past endless lemon and orange groves. The scent of ripe fruit filled the air and the sun painted the landscape golden yellow. Upon arrival, we were given helmets and followed the guide along the wooden path high above the river. The views were breathtaking and we even saw vultures soaring above the mountains. Sometimes, I paused, looked around, and tried to take it all in: the immense depth below me, the soft whisper of the wind through the gorge, the distant cliffs standing out against the bright blue sky. The guide shared interesting facts about the history and nature of the area. Would I do it again? Yes, but preferably alone or with Greg. Walking in a group isn’t for me; I want to take my time and not feel rushed. Some parts also felt overly touristy, especially when we ended up at various souvenir stalls and food stands. The magic faded a little at that moment.
 The days flew by: walking through Fuengirola, a trip to Málaga, and… getting sick. The flu got me, probably thanks to the cramped space on the plane or train full of people. Still, I tried to make the best of it and enjoyed the time with mom and Dirk. Walking through Fuengirola together was nice, but I had underestimated how busy and noisy it could be. The contrast with the peace of the boat suddenly became painfully clear. I realised that quietness is becoming increasingly important to me. 
Saying goodbye to my mom and Dirk was difficult. The knot in my stomach was there from the moment we woke up that morning. You never know how long it will be before you see each other again. Thankfully, video calling exists, but it’s just not the same. Our hug felt tighter than usual. With the flu still lingering, I boarded the return flight. For a moment, I was even afraid I’d miss my first flight, the crowds and waiting triggered a slight panic attack. My breathing sped up, my head spun for a second. But I recovered, kept going and focused on the moment I’d be home again. After two flights (with a layover in Barcelona) and two bus rides, I finally arrived in the bay of Alcudia. Just in time for sunset. The sky turned a stunning blend of pink and orange behind the mountains, a painting of colours melting into each other. And then I knew: this is home. The boat is home. Greg is home. The cats are home. I took a deep breath and felt the tension from the journey slowly fade away. And just like that, I felt so much better.

The new year starts off quietly. The water is like glass and the mornings feel incredibly peaceful. We soak up the early sun, cuddle with the cats on deck and take in the beauty around us. It’s the perfect slow start to the year. On January 3rd, we pick up our rental car, an absolute steal at €167 for 28 days. Gotta love the off-season. The next day, we head straight into the mountains for a road trip through the Serra de Tramuntana. The drive is stunning: winding hairpin bends, dramatic mountain views and scenic picnic spots (some even have barbecues). We end up in Sóller, a charming village tucked between the peaks. Over coffee and a pecan-caramel brownie, we take it all in before wandering through the streets. The following days are a mix of adventure and downtime. Strong winds keep us on board on the 5th and 6th, so we hunker down and make the most of it. Greg whips up French toast with homemade kiwi compote from our last Too Good To Go haul, topped with rum raisins and whipped cream. A small feast. By the 7th, the wind has settled and we’re itching to explore. We visit the Reserva Natural de s’Albufereta, which turns out to be smaller than expected but still beautiful, and then head to Pollensa. It’s strangely quiet, not quite the lively place we imagined, probably due to siesta time. On a whim, Greg sets the GPS for the Formentor lighthouse and wow, what a drive. More hairpin bends, breathtaking cliffs and a lot of curious goats. The next few days are a mix of practical errands and little adventures. We tackle dentist visits and laundry on the 9th, then set off on another road trip to Valldemossa and Deià. Two of the most picturesque villages I’ve ever seen. Think cobbled streets, stone houses and mountain views that look straight out of a painting. By the 11th, a storm is on the way, so we move into the marina. Perfect timing for some retail therapy. B. and I. tag along as we hit Decathlon and IKEA, where we go all-in on the Swedish meatballs. That night, the storm arrives in full force, howling winds and all. The second half of the month is a mix of sun, rain and everything in between. By the 16th, I’m fed up with the constant rocking of the boat. The swell makes even the simplest tasks annoying and the howling wind through the rigging drives me nuts. But a few days later, the sun returns and we head out for a long hike in Alcanada. Fresh air, green forests and mountain views, exactly what I needed. A few spontaneous trips follow. We plan to visit Fornalutx on the 21st but end up in Palma instead, wandering the streets and stopping for ramen at Shifu. The next day is a quiet one on board. I make pine balm from needles I gathered in December and Greg catches a fish for Finn. On the 23rd, something magical happens. As we sit inside, we suddenly hear the unmistakable sound of a dolphin surfacing right next to the boat. The sea is completely still, the sky full of stars and the moment feels almost surreal. On the 25th, we set sail across the bay, cruising at around 6 knots with a wind speed of 10-15 knots. After anchoring for the night, we return the next day to our “home bay”, Alcudia. Then comes the 27th. The day everything goes wrong. The wind is howling through the bay when I hear a loud whistling noise. I peek outside and see our neighbor L. frantically gesturing towards our friends’ boat. And then I see it. The mooring buoy is still attached to the boat, but it has snapped off, and she’s drifting straight towards the rocks. I shout for Greg, who jumps into the dinghy. I toss him his phone and he speeds off. L. picks up S. in his dinghy and they race to help. But before they can get there, it happens. The boat hits the rocks (or maybe the seabed, we’re still not sure). From our boat, I feel completely helpless as Greg and the others do everything they can to save her. He climbs on board, quickly starts the engine (thank god B. and I. explained how it works before leaving for their home country) and reverses out. Luckily, the boat doesn’t seem to be taking on water. The rescue is far from over. As they try to drop the anchor, it gets tangled in an octopus trap on the seabed. Meanwhile, S.’s boat also breaks free. L. and S. manage to secure her just in time. It’s complete chaos. Greg eventually frees the anchor from our friends’ boat and the plan is to keep her moving until B. arrives. He’s already on his way back, completely unaware of the full extent of the situation. When B. arrives, Greg guides the boat safely into the marina. My hero. I couldn’t be prouder of how he handled everything. And I’m beyond grateful for the sailing community. We may all be out here doing our own thing, but when things go wrong, everyone steps up. That night, I barely sleep. Every gust of wind puts me on edge and I keep an eye on our anchor alarm. One thing’s for sure, I’ll never fully trust a mooring buoy again. The last few days of January are calmer. We go on a beautiful hike near Coll Baix, soaking in the views and laughing at pushy goats trying to steal our lunch. On the 30th, I pack my bags. I’m heading to Fuengirola for ten days to visit my mom and stepdad. It feels strange leaving Greg, the cats and the boat behind. I can’t even remember the last time I spent a day without him. But I’m also looking forward to some quality time with my mom. On the 31st, we drive through pouring rain to return the rental car before I catch my flight to Málaga. It’s been a wild month. Peaceful mornings, terrifying storms, rainy days spent curled up inside and sunny adventures in the mountains. A month full of contrasts. Just like life at sea.

Hi everyone, Happy New Year! I hope the year is off to a great start for you all. I’m excited to share my latest YouTube video where we set sail to Cabrera, a small island just south of Mallorca. I’d love to hear your thoughts. Feel free to leave a comment, drop a like and subscribe if you enjoy it. Your support means a lot! Muchas gracias, The El Burro Crew

After sailing for two miles, we anchor in a bay that immediately puts us at ease. The scenery around us is like a picture postcard: golden beaches, towering mountains and lush nature all around. If only the hotels along the beach were gone, the view would be perfect. We lower the dinghy to explore the area and soon find ourselves in a cosy little café called Patagonia. Looking at the display, I spot them: cinnamon rolls. I've been craving them for ages! I couldn't be happier with my hot coffee and my sticky, sweet bun. Sometimes life really doesn't need to be any more complicated. It doesn't take long to realise that this place has everything we need. The anchorage is well protected and if the weather changes there's a nearby marina where we can find shelter and fill our water tanks. There's a large supermarket a short distance away, while the local cafes and bakeries feel like little hidden gems. The area is also perfect for adventurers, with beautiful walking trails just waiting to be explored. We're soon joined by Isabelle and Benjamin from Malou. They'd been at the marina for a while, but decided to anchor with us in the bay. In the evening they invite us for dinner on their boat and we spend the night swapping stories. It's as if we've known each other for ages, even though we've only recently met in Almerimar. The next morning we set off together on a 15 kilometer walk. The trail takes us from Alcudia to Alcanada and back, along the coast and through forests, with views that leave us speechless at every turn. The nature here is simply breathtaking. Tired but happy, we end the day at the Patagonia café, where we enjoy a hot chocolate and tea. Sunday mornings start with a visit to the market in Alcudia's old town. The square is bustling with stalls full of fresh produce and the whole town seems to be there. It's such a lively, welcoming atmosphere. Later we meet Alex, a friend we met earlier in Ibiza. He's heading home for Christmas and has big plans to travel around South America with his girlfriend. We share a drink and catch up. Christmas is a mixture of warmth and cosiness. On Christmas Eve, we enjoy a big dinner on board, followed by a film under the covers with the cats curled up beside us. On Christmas Day, Isabelle and Benjamin invite us over. With mulled wine in hand, a delicious lasagne on the table and a fun card game, it's like living in a small, perfect bubble. On the 29th of December, we set off on an 11.5 kilometre walk through the s'Albufera de Mallorca Nature Reserve. The park is a birdwatcher's paradise and we're amazed at the variety of birds we see along the way. December 31st is upon us, a day filled with parties and resolutions for many, but for me it's always a day of reflection. There's something melancholy about the last hours of the year. My mind wanders to all the wonderful moments of the past year, but also to the uncertainty of what lies ahead. It's as if I'm caught between the past and the future, unable to fully embrace the present moment. We keep the evening simple: a cheese fondue, a film and a peaceful time just the two of us and the cats. No fireworks, no big party, just a quiet and intimate way to end a special year. Alcudia has really stolen our hearts, especially with its blend of nature, tranquillity, adventure and friendship. Life here feels like a pause and that's what we've been longing for.

I’m feeling much better. My back and neck are still sore, but at least I can move again without feeling like a robot. Later, I discover a massive bruise on my back, that explains the pain, of course. The crossing to Alcanada went smoothly. I have to admit: Greg is the true hero of this story. He manages the boat entirely on his own. I feel pretty useless, but I do manage to look around now and then and even take the helm for a bit. Small victory! We drop anchor in an idyllic spot. The water is calm, the sunset feels like a dream, and for the first time in days, I feel a little more like myself again.

I fall asleep and only wake up when the anchor is dropped. The rest of the day, I feel completely drained. I just can’t function. I don’t even know which bay we’re in, and honestly, I don’t care. I just want to sleep, hoping I’ll feel better later. The aftermath of the painful yet soothing massage.

A challenging journey to Porto Cristo, but luckily the crossing takes only an hour. Checking in at the marina goes smoothly. In the evening, we have pizza. The next day, we explore the town and discover that Rafael Nadal lives here. That immediately explains the impressive Sunreef 80 catamaran docked right behind us. Charmed by the surroundings, we decide to stay longer. With bad weather on the way (strong winds and high waves), there’s no reason to rush. Fortunately, the marinas are a bit cheaper at the moment. The following day, we take out our bikes and head to the Via Verde, a 28-kilometer green route connecting Manacor and Artà. The hilly terrain is sometimes a challenge with our folding bikes, but it’s breathtakingly beautiful. The green Mallorcan countryside never ceases to amaze us. After four hours of cycling and 25 kilometers, we return to our boat tired but satisfied. The next day, we visit Manacor, just a 15-minute bus ride away. Unfortunately, after a few hours, I start to feel pain in my neck, arms and legs due to a pinched nerve. I feel so unwell that all I want is to return to the boat. I spend the rest of the day in bed with a heating pad and arnica cream on my sore neck, shoulders and arms. The day after that is laundry day. My neck and shoulders remain painful and tingling and my whole body feels heavy. Even holding a book is only manageable for a few minutes. I wonder what’s going on with my body. Is it the long bike ride or is something else at play? On Monday, I spend nearly the entire day in bed. Greg goes looking for a physiotherapist or osteopath and finds Laura, my guardian angel. She offers me an appointment first thing the next morning. On Tuesday morning, I lie on her massage table. She immediately identifies a series of painful knots and explains that my body is completely blocked. According to her, my body is constantly in defense mode due to unresolved emotional trauma. It makes sense, considering my difficult childhood, but I’m surprised by how strongly my body is reacting. I thought I’d been doing well lately. After the treatment, I feel empty and confused. While Greg prepares the boat for departure, I take a warm shower and try to process everything.

We had a smooth and relaxing journey to Mallorca. The original plan was to anchor in Portocolom, but Greg’s gut feeling suggested otherwise. Without hesitation, we decided to continue on to Es Fogons. You can’t ignore that kind of intuition. Portocolom could wait for another time. Along the way, we made good use of both the headsail and mainsail, and just before sunset, we dropped anchor. To our relief, Finn avoided seasickness for the third time in a row. In fact, he even sat calmly under the sprayhood when the engine started. Could his fear of the engine noise and tendency to get seasick finally be over? Our anchorage offered a rather curious view: on one side, an exotic Burger King and a few remarkably ugly hotels. But if you looked to the right and ignored the rest, it was actually quite beautiful. The next day, we set off to explore the large Carrefour hypermarket. On the way back, it started to rain and we both felt a bit weak. We spent the rest of the afternoon inside: sleeping a little, eating a little and doing nothing else. Just resting. During the night, the swell began to pick up, and by morning, it had only worsened. The forecast promised no relief: the wind would strengthen further in the afternoon and the waves would grow even higher. We decided not to take any chances and called the marina at Porto Cristo. Fortunately, they had space for us. We quickly raised the anchor, it was time to leave!

We wake up and immediately notice the strong swell. Time to lift the anchor. After a quick coffee, we start the engine, but it cuts out right away. Greg checks it and discovers there’s air in the engine, which is strange. Fortunately, we manage to start it again, but the uneasy feeling remains. The trip to Cabrera is quite tough. We have to sail 11 miles against the waves and occasionally water splashes over the boat. It’s not ideal, but at least we can sail. Finn is safely tucked in his box with a sweater over his little head, sleeping soundly. He hardly notices anything. When we take down the sails and try to start the engine, the problem happens again. The engine cuts out, and only after bleeding it do we get it running again. It reminds us of the time the engine had the same issue and we suspect it’s again the check valve causing the trouble. We had applied for a permit for Cabrera in advance and Greg reserved a buoy yesterday for 9.5 euros per night. As we enter the bay, the waves finally disappear, and I feel relieved that we are safely anchored. The engine problems, though, don’t give much peace of mind. After the stressful journey, we tidy up the boat, take a nap, and then head out to explore the island. We follow the trail to the lighthouse. It’s immediately apparent how well-marked the paths are and how neat the island is. The nature is, as expected, beautiful. The next day, we continue exploring the island. We walk to the (closed) museum, the botanical garden, and the castle. There’s a large picnic area with tables, so we enjoy our lunch there. Afterward, we take the dinghy to the Blue Cave, where, according to rumors, manta rays should be. Unfortunately, we don’t see any. The following day, we set out with our El Burro to a spot on the map where, according to the chart, sperm whales, dolphins and sharks are supposed to be. It’s a deeper area and a gathering spot for these animals because there’s supposed to be a lot of food. We sail for almost six hours, full of hope, only to see a big, vague splash, something that looks like a giant turd (sperm whale poop?), and the bow of a sunken boat floating by. No sea life to be seen. Nevertheless, it was a beautiful, sunny trip, and in the end, we sailed all the way around Cabrera. We moor the boat back to a buoy in the bay.

A calm day on the water. Greg had already started the engine while I was still in bed. He wanted to sail to the next bay, a journey of 22 miles. I quickly got dressed and took the helm as we left the bay. The wind stayed away, so we motorsailed for most of the trip. The sea was calm, without waves, and Finn and Nelly slept peacefully on the bed. Around three in the afternoon, we dropped anchor. The engine was running well, no oil leaks. So far so good. The next day, we went for a walk nearby and treated ourselves to ice cream. The following morning, we woke up to heavy swell. That could only mean one thing: time to lift the anchor and set off again.

Today was a rough journey. The sea was already restless with waves and the constant passing of ferries only made it worse. Comfort was hard to find. Finn lay curled up miserably on the bench in the cockpit but suddenly jumped onto my lap while I was steering. He burrowed under my arm, making it much harder to steer. Meanwhile, I struggled to stay upright to avoid ending up on the floor with Finn. Inside, Greg was busy too. He discovered a problem with the engine: oil everywhere! It was gushing out through the dipstick, so he was dealing with that chaos while I struggled with Finn outside. To make matters worse, Finn started smacking his lips, an unmistakable sign that he was about to vomit. There I was, on a rocking boat, trying to gently place Finn on the cockpit floor as he threw up, all while doing my best not to panic. Stress level: high. Then came the big question: do we turn back to Palma or push on to our anchorage? In the end, we chose the latter. Greg kept a close eye on the engine to ensure it wouldn’t suddenly give out. I was so relieved when we finally dropped anchor in a reasonably sheltered bay. Finally, some peace. Tomorrow we’ll figure out exactly what’s wrong with the engine. The next day, Greg examined the engine right away. To his surprise, he found nothing unusual. He cleaned up the spilled oil and concluded that the dipstick might not have been secured properly. With the waves, oil could have leaked out. The next journey will tell. Since the sun was shining, we decided to go geocaching. There were two caches nearby, which we found quickly. I left El Burro stickers in the caches for the next finder. Next time, I might leave a small treasure. I still have some beach finds on the boat. The following day, I, Julie, was still in bed when I heard Greg raising the anchor. Apparently, we were about to sail 22 miles. 😃

We woke up early. Finn always enjoys waking us up at sunrise. This time, it worked out well because we had planned to leave early to weigh anchor and sail to Palma. We quickly managed to unfurl the genoa, though the wind was quite gusty today. Around noon, we arrived in Palma. A marinero guided us to our spot in the Real Club Nàutico. Fortunately, the marina is much more affordable in the off-season. Checking in was smooth. For those unfamiliar with it: when checking into a marina, they usually ask for your boat’s documents (registration and insurance) and your ID. Outside of Europe, you also get a visit from customs, but within Europe, we’ve only occasionally experienced that while at anchor. The rest of the afternoon was spent doing laundry. We had a huge pile built up and were really looking forward to taking a hot shower afterward. Unfortunately, the water was cold, which was quite a disappointment. The next day was a practical day: more laundry, installing a new anchor chain and repairing the engine’s water pump. Our old anchor chain was rusty and kept jamming in the anchor locker, so it really needed replacing. The water pump’s seal was also leaking, so we took care of that as well. It was a productive day, and in the evening, we treated ourselves to a delicious Japanese meal at Buga Ramen. Friday was less eventful. We did some shopping and, in the evening, enjoyed a lovely walk through the narrow streets of beautiful Palma. On Saturday, we brought out the bikes and rode to a small Christmas market hosted by the Swedish church community. Afterward, we cycled further through the city, past the cathedral and through the center. In the evening, we went to see the Christmas lights’ opening ceremony, but it ended up being a bit underwhelming. It felt more like an overly drawn-out kids’ show. In the end, we decided to head back to the boat and save the actual lights for the next day. On Sunday, we took a bike ride to Castell de Bellver. This stunning castle, perched on a hill just outside the city center, was built in the 14th century by order of King Jaume II of Mallorca. It’s one of the few circular castles in Europe and has served as a royal residence, a prison and a military depot over the centuries. Today, it’s a museum where you can learn more about the history of Palma and Mallorca. The views from the hill over the city and bay are breathtaking. On Sundays, entry is free, which made it even better. In the evening, we went back to see the Christmas lights and this time we truly enjoyed the thousands of twinkling lights spread all over the city. On departure day, we squeezed in one last load of laundry, took out the trash and got some fuel for the dinghy. And to our great relief, we finally had hot showers! It may seem like a small thing, but it felt amazing to have a proper warm shower before setting off again.

It is calm as we pull the anchor up from the clear water and fine white sand. We hoist the genoa and sail at a leisurely two knots. When the wind picks up a bit, we decide to raise the mainsail as well. The sun is shining and the course is pleasant. After a while, we lower the sails and motor toward the bay. On one side, the view is less appealing, but the west side, with its cave and small beach, is stunning. The anchorage is completely empty and we drop the anchor into the white sand at a depth of about 7.5 meters. With some effort, we pull 40 meters of rusty chain out of the anchor locker, but then we’re securely anchored. Just in time, as a boat soon arrives, disturbing the calm with its waves. We think about how busy and chaotic this bay must be in the summer, but for now, it’s wonderfully peaceful. We row to shore with the dinghy. What a beautiful spot! Unfortunately, the silence is soon broken by a group of Germans who have arrived in a small motorboat and are loudly singing along to German music. Sigh… We walk to the cave and admire the beautiful inscriptions and carvings. History of the caves of Portals Vells: In the 15th century, a sailing ship was struck by a hurricane. The sails tore and the force of the waves broke the ship’s frame and mast. As the ship threatened to sink, the captain and crew made a vow to an image of the Virgin Mary, which was part of their cargo: if they safely reached the shore, they would build a chapel in her honor at the place where they landed. The storm subsided, and the wind brought the ship to the natural harbor of Portals Vells, where they sought refuge in one of the caves. There, they placed the Virgin’s image and carved an altar and inscriptions into the ground and walls. The image became a popular place of worship, especially for fishermen and sailors. At the end of the 15th century, an altar was added to the cave. This Renaissance-style altar, made by local craftsmen, has a simple and somewhat naïve appearance. It bears the coat of arms of the Rocafull family, who were the island’s governors at the time. Later, a small chapel was built in the left section of the cave to house the image. In 1863, the image was moved to the church of Portals Nous. The cave itself is artificial. According to legend, it was carved out by Moorish slaves after the Reconquista to mine limestone for the cathedral. However, archaeological excavations suggest that the caves were likely Phoenician tombs. A Phoenician ship from 600 BC was even found offshore. Incidentally, the cave smells a bit musty, probably due to too many campfires. The next day, we go on a breathtaking 8-kilometer hike. We’re continually amazed at how many walking trails are available in this area. The following day, Finn wakes us up at sunrise. We lift the anchor and trade nature for the big city.