They thought Majorca was out of reach, they were wrong! A plane hop across the ocean and they were there, without children, a whole weekend of sun, sea, sand and all you can eat buffet sausages.
On arrival there were stags dressed in vibrant orange already totalled on what smelled like Special Brew and there were hens in matching fluorescent pink hoodies with filthy slogans on their backs. The marrieds breathed a sigh of relief they weren’t Magaluf bound. Frenzied thrashing and shot downing wasn’t on their agenda this time.
Best Western Plaza Santa Ponsa was to be their base for three nights. It had three stars, it had a tempting pool and it was right slap bang in the middle of all the resort had to offer.
The sun was shining, the pizzas were cooking and the sangria was suitably chilled. It was time to experience high octane relaxation, it was time for karaoke, dodgy quiz nights, tribute bands and boat rides up the coast with extremely tasty crew members – yes really!
But this was more than just a short getaway, this was romance. This was two people jaded by their hectic lifestyles and hyped up under 6’s, this was a couple searching for lost youth, trying to forget broken sleep and wet wipes. This was a man and a woman in need of copious handholding, toes in the sea and a parrot show.
And this is what Majorca does. Majorca sucks in people from all walks of life and gives them what they want. Stunning scenery for the countryside lovers, glorious sandy beaches for the sun worshippers, nightclubs and your body weight in Jager-bombs for the young and lively and for those in none of those categories, like our couple, a little bit of all of them!
By Mandy Baggot