Many years ago, I watched a German documentary about the almond blossom season in Mallorca in which the orange express, also known as the tren de Sóller was prominently featured. While I am personally less fascinated by train mechanics than I am by traditional almond sweets, beautiful landscapes, and glorious beaches, this documentary somehow lingered in my mind to the day I came to visit the island myself – a decade or more later. Before I set out to this little mediterranean paradise, the image of the train rushed back into my conscious memory. I sought to plan the trip in those few days in September I had at my disposal for touristic excursions before attending to the real reason for my travel to Spain.
Skeptical as I am, however, I did – not so diplomatically – ask my local friend whether this train trip to Sóller was ‘just a tourist trap or actually nice’. He was borderline offended by my question and assured me that, while it was definitely touristic, it was a very nice trip on which he had even taken his in-laws a few years ago. Since this sort of resembled an approval of the whole endeavour, I put the tren de Sóller firmly on my travel itinerary for Mallorca in 2025.
It was a beautiful day in late September, the weather was perfect, and the views did not disappoint. While the first part of the journey leads through the fertile plains of the island’s interior, the Serra de Tramuntana is not far from the island’s capital.
Soon, the train takes its route through tunnels and across narrow bridges nestled between the valleys and towns of this northern mountainous region. Lush vegetation and shadows of increasingly higher mountains feel so far removed from the yachts and urban buzz of the capital. Arriving in Sóller, one already sees the spires of its large Gothic-style church of Sant Bartomeu, which appears as grand an opulent in this little town – and is very similar in style – to that of Palma, from afar.
Sóller, unfortunately quite overrun by tourists, is charming and grand in architecture; a clear reminder of its bygone days when almonds and fruit made for precious commodities and lucrative trade. As with all touristic and Instagram-hyped ‘bucket list’ places, simply taking a side road will let you enjoy it in peace and quiet as most people are less interested in seeing them than in being seen in them.
To this day, Sóller remains famous for its citrus fruit and the train used to be a means of transporting the fruit to the capital and elsewhere. It dates back to 1912 and shares many of the characteristics of the iconic trams of Lisbon or Milan. The glazed caramel-coloured wooden seats and up-sliding windows exude the same glory of the olden days that I personally love very much, probably because they evoke happy childhood memories of summers spent in Lisbon with my grandmother and walking around its Baixa and Chiado as a student. As a Serb, I however feel compelled to warn you of the near certain potential of promaja (draft) created by scantily clothed Northerners opening windows on all possible sides of the wagons to let in the cold mountain air because their iPhones told them it was warm in Palma.
Not being able to hire a car and explore the natural beauty of any place to which I travel on a more individual basis, I am always looking for ways alternative transport options can help me get around and see as much as possible. The tren de Sóller lets you get off in Sóller, walk around and then rejoin it for the last stretch of the journey to the Port.
The Port has a long promenade framed by beautiful sandy beaches and a marina at the end; many cafés and restaurants line its beachfront with stunning views on turquoise waters. I highly recommend a piece of almond cake while savouring the landscape.
You can buy your tickets for the tren de Sóller at the designated station called the Ferrocarril de Sóller just across the Plaça de Espanya in Palma, adjacent to the Estació Intermodal and central coach station. While you can also get to both Sóller and Port de Sóller by coach No. 203 from the Estació Intermodal, I would recommend the train for several reasons. First, it is simply very nice and unique. Second, you are able to book your return for a specific time when buying your ticket, which leads me to my third reason: enforced limited seating that prevents all sorts of unpleasantries you may very well experience when queuing for the coach according to the principles of touristic Darwinism and self-centred foreigners not believing in queues.
All in all, I join my friend in telling you that the train trip to Sóller is touristic, but very nice indeed.
All recommendations are my genuine opinions. I have paid all fares and food at full price by myself and I am not sponsored or otherwise affiliated with any company or establishment mentioned in this post.
My last blogs have largely been dedicated to my opinionated philosophizing about travel. With the beginning of spring and a more outward looking perspective on how to spend time, however, I am finally able to share a real travel blog with you again. I have been alluding to it before but did not want to spill the beans just yet about where this journey was going to take us.
Day 1
I am blessed to be living in Europe, where many beautiful destinations can easily be reached within a few hours and short weekend breaks to a completely different country are within the realm of the possible. This time, I took advantage of a direct flight connection to the beautiful city of Florence in Tuscany. I have never been to Tuscany before, and I thought it would be a good idea to see it before the summer crowds arrive. In my opinion, it would also be a waste to dedicate precious warm summer days that could be spent on the beach roaming the museums. But who could visit Florence and skip the museums? It would be a sin.
But be aware, if you do not plan this out months in advance, you’ll be disappointed. Nowadays all major museums have online ticket sales and those come with time slots of 15-minute windows. Of course, you can also buy tickets on the spot, but you will wait in line for a very long time. Already now at the end of February, the queues were substantial.
For a change to my usual blogs, I will actually run you through my itinerary in case you would find it useful for your own plans.
I arrived at the airport at noon (with hand luggage only) and took a taxi to the old town, which took about 30 minutes. I was lucky to chance upon a very nice and kind taxi driver who spoke excellent English and with whom I really had a nice chat; usually, I am not a big fan of chatting with taxi drivers. He asked me – as most of them do: So, you are travelling alone? And when I get the weird vibes, I usually come up with a lie such as I am joiningmy husband who was here on a business trip or something along those lines. But this guy was normal, so I said “Yes, I am travelling alone” and in his opinion that was a great idea because I did not have to compromise on anything – especially food – and just do what I wanted. It really made me smile, because that’s not a response I usually get.
My hotel was located at the Piazza dell’indipendenza, next to a park and a short walking distance from the centre. I was already able to leave my luggage in the room, freshen up a little and walk to my first destination of the day, the Capelle Medicee where I had booked myself a timeslot to see Michelangelo’s secret chamber at 13:30. I made it on time easily (although I had stressed about that a little when the plane was delayed) and even grabbed a focaccia from the supermarket around the corner because I was starving as well as an espresso at the bar across before turning up about five minutes early. And I cannot stress this enough, but if you do book this tour – which I highly recommend – you must be punctual. The museum organizes the tour for a group of no more than four people at a time because the secret chamber is very small.
Our guide was a refreshingly genuine and enthusiastic young lady who explained both the story of the secret chamber as well as the intricacies of the drawings and sketches and answered all our questions in both Italian and English. The guided visit lasted about 20 minutes and all of us had plenty of opportunity to look around and really take in what we were seeing. After the guided tour, you can freely visit the rest of the museum on your own.
After the Medici chapel, I had some time to walk down to the river Arno, take a few beautiful pictures of the bridges and riverbanks, and eat a gelatoat the corner of Ponte Santa Trinita before slowly walking back into the town centre for my next stop of the day, the Galleria dell’Academia museum. My time slot started at 15:30 and I made it comfortably on time without having to rush.
While I would not call myself an art lover per se or connoisseur of any kind, I do have a natural appreciation for everything beautiful, and I get immensely impressed by the mastery of artists so many centuries ago. There were a few paintings from the beginning of the 14th century that really stuck with me due to their immense beauty, detail and vibrancy.
I often find the larger paintings more difficult to appreciate due to my visual impairment, as I cannot see the detail that I would imagine many people with normal eyesight would be able to catch.
The same goes for statutes, such as Michelangelo’s David that is cordoned off for good reason, given the focused interest of most visitors to the museum. I actually found myself more fascinated by the smaller works on the first floor, where I was able to approach the painting at a closer range and really appreciate the detailing.
As impressive as the Galleria was, I suffered my usual art-overload about halfway through and felt a bit depleted at that point in the afternoon. I then decided to look for a Bar-Tabacchi (coffee bar/kiosk)and top up my coffee levels before heading back to the hotel to rest and refresh before my solo dinner appointment.
It was indeed the first time I had made a dinner reservation weeks in advance and to my surprise at the time, it was entirely possible to reserve a table for one, which you cannot do in some countries mind you.
With hindsight, I really think it was a great idea to reserve a table because otherwise I would have just roamed the city aimlessly and probably doubted whether I would even be interested in a dinner for one. But because I had this reservation, it really felt like a fixed appointment, even if it was only with myself. Now, whether I would recommend randomly picking a restaurant off google maps like I did, I don’t know. But in my case, it worked out very well.
I had looked at the pricing and menu beforehand and gotten an idea about the kind of restaurant it was, which proved to be accurate. It was a nice, traditional restaurant with a lot of local charm and at no point did I feel uncomfortable dining alone. The waiting staff was very friendly, the food was great and overall, it was a very nice evening. I can warmly recommend it for those interested.
Day 2
I am not going to lie when I say I was very tired on my first evening and decided to sleep in; that said: for someone who usually rises at 5 a.m. ‘sleeping in’. means 8:30. After quite a disappointing breakfast buffet visit, I made myself another coffee in the room, as it proved to be highly superior to that in the windowless breakfast basement without wifi or telephone reception. I then headed out towards the Duomo to attend Sunday mass at 10:30. While I am not Roman Catholic, living abroad with next to no access to churches of my own confession, I have learned to find a moment of prayer and reflection among congregations of other Christian denominations and focus on the readings. What I found slightly disturbing though was that attendees were encouraged to ‘follow’ the mass on their phone by scanning a QR code with ‘the program’. Thus, for those fortunate enough to be in full possession of their visual senses, you had them glued to their screens.
After mass, I set out on a hike to the Piazzale de Michelangelo from where you have a panoramic view down on the city with the skyline of the dome of the Duomo, its belltower and the tower of the Palazzo Vecchio. I passed the queues of tourists waiting for admission to Arnolfo’s tower, left behind the Ponte Vecchio, horrified at the masses of tourists which caused me a little onset of claustrophobic discomfort and activated my natural flight instinct. Like this, I randomly followed over-packed streets only to find that I was on the wrong track. At the Palazzo Pitti – framed by a sizeable queue of patiently waiting tourists – I made a U-turn and found my way up the hill towards the Piazzale. It was a pleasant but steep walk in the end, so I would only recommend it to those who are reasonably in shape, otherwise just call a taxi.
Having made it to the top, I was greeted by the breathtaking view on one of Europe’s most beautiful skylines, but also by touristy stalls of knick-knacks, trinkets and the usual merchandise made in China. Blasting Latin music from a street performer and girlfriends directing their portrait-taking boyfriends on the various angles of perfect Instagram content did not kindle my desire to further explore the Piazzale itself. I took some of my own soon-to-be Instagram pictures and made my way back down to the river. It was past noon and definitely time for a meal in any event.
For lunch, I came across a very nice Pizzeria named Forneria, not too far from the Ponte Vecchio. A perfect blend of locals and tourists, friendly staff, good food and a clean and modern atmosphere make me really recommend this place to you. In their main sitting area, you also get a stunning view on the river and the old city. I could unashamedly charge up my phone while enjoying my pizza and a tiramisù.
Walking around for the rest of the afternoon, taking in the stunning architecture and blending into the city’s afternoon passeggiata I finally reached a point where I could walk no more. I had yet another coffee and because I needed to drag out that seated break for a little longer, a glass of Prosecco (when in Rome…as they say!). After some people watching and general contemplation, I cancelled my dinner reservation because I was still too full after the lunch I could not even finish.
Eventually, it was time to make it back to the hotel and facing the real world at the click of a button switching on the news. I shouldn’t have. Because for those two days that I spent in Italy, I could focus on nothing but a mental break and taking in the beauty life has to offer.
I don’t travel in order to tell you stories or post pictures. It is the other way around.
I like to tell you stories, because I love travelling. When you travel alone, there’s no one to share your impressions with, so they become stories that need to be told. I travel because I seek the tranquillity and peace of mind that I only experience when I am away from the routine and when I am able to slip into a different place and reality.
The next morning, I slept in, drank all the coffee in the room and skipped that unappealing breakfast altogether. A yoghurt and some delicious strawberries I had purchased the day before were a far better choice before heading back to the airport with no rush.
I hope you enjoyed my little itinerary and it would mean the world to me if any of my humble recommendations will help you in planning your own trip to Florence, or anywhere or even just make you dream about it.
As always, all recommendations are my own spontaneous and heartfelt recommendations. I have not been sponsored in any way or obtained any gifts, favours, products or food for free in preparing this blog.
When I think of auntie Catherine’s living room featuring a stationary bike, I would not necessarily call that room a ‘gym’. However, this seems to somehow be okay when you have a hotel. Having that kind of ‘gym’ immediately entitles you to a surcharge of at least 50 EUR on your rooms per night. Better yet: you put up a mirrored wall next to that single stationary bike, so that it photographs as two stationary bikes in a spacious and inviting room, rather than the closet that it really is. It also appears to be mandatory to have that closet somewhere in the basement and an awkward backroom elevator or semi-outdoor staircase leading down to it to move your hotel up the starred ladder.
But not all hotel gyms are let-downs. There are indeed hotels that do have a decently sized, well-equipped fitness room. The hard part is to identify them when you book.
It is almost a science to spot the optical illusion of the mirrored closet in the pictures on the hotel website or booking platform; if you care about your gym time even on a trip, you’ll likely have figured that out a while ago. I can’t say I am nailing that science yet, but I can definitely spot a misnomer in a second these days.
If you are travelling to a city destination and not staying in a five star or chain hotel, very likely, the ‘gym’ won’t be great and not feature more than that single stationary bike, one treadmill (mostly facing a blank wall) and a cross-trainer aka elliptical machine. If it has a rower, you hit the jackpot. It will also help to be short because most of these fitness rooms have extremely low ceilings, and I often wonder whether anyone over 1,80 m tall will hit their head when stepping onto the treadmill. If you are lucky, that basement room may have a few weights, but those would serve most people for a warmup set and, in any event, there won’t be space for doing anything other than a biceps curl with this rather basic set of home workout tools.
In such settings, you are probably better off just getting your 20.000 steps in by doing some robust sightseeing on foot.
There is also the variant of ‘next-door-access’ to a real commercial gym. This can be fabulous or the most traumatizing experience in your gym career as happened to me last time I went to London.
My God. I wouldn’t call myself feeble or overly self-conscious, shy or hesitant, but that gym intimidated me and made me feel uncomfortable to the core. I don’t know about other ladies, but the fact that this testosterone cage was exclusively filled with loudly grunting gym-bros, had not been cleaned in a decade, featured ‘unisex’ toilets/bathrooms/showers or whatever it was (the sign on the door frightened me too much to even have a peek inside) was unbearable.
I have never felt so out of place and unsafe in a gym than there; and the worst part: it is advertised as ‘belonging’ to the hotel. A four-star hotel mind you. Turns out, it was a commercially run place for which the hotel gave you a ‘token’ (attached to a large wooden brick so you wouldn’t steal it!) to enter and made you walk around the building in the freezing cold for access. However, lockers (yes, I wore a puffer jacket on the way there) for where to put your jacket weren’t accessible to the hotel guests because that would have required a padlock. So, great thinking there, Mr. hotel manager, you have really done the research or maybe I just need to improve my skills at reading the fine print.
At the other end of the spectrum, I have been to several very nice ‘next-door gyms’. Spotless, clean, and well-equipped. One of the best next-door gyms has been in my favourite beach destination, where, honestly, going for a run along the promenade was much nicer, but I was curious to try out this gym and found myself walking right into a real-world men’s health magazine. Quite an unforgettable experience! And people were welcoming and nice and even though I did not necessarily ‘fit’ with the crowd, I did not feel looked-at, intimidated or out of place.
The premium option in the world of hotel gyms though are the ones that are so great that even locals have a gym membership at the hotel; often, you’ll find that option in generous spa/wellness areas of larger hotel chains. I have had great experiences in the Middle East. In Dubai, it even came with a stunning Burj Khalifa view.
But rather than giving you a run-down of the different options and kinds of hotel gyms that exist, I wanted to tell you why I find hotel gyms necessary or important. There are several reasons. For one, I love my gym routine and if I am, for instance, travelling for business and the trip lasts an entire week or longer, the thought of skipping the gym is a terrifying one for me. I need my workouts to stay alert and feel good or to relieve the stress of the day or mentally wind down after a long day of meetings and sitting.
Second, hotel gyms are a kind of refuge for me when I don’t necessary feel like solo-dining but don’t also want to exclusively be stuck in the room or sit in the lobby getting hit on by middle-aged creeps. Getting a workout in and then rewarding yourself with a hot shower and in-room dining is so much more fulfilling than just stuffing your face with a club sandwich and watching the news on tv.
Third, and this would go for summer vacations mainly, if I have been lying on the beach all day, I have the urge to move. I cannot just get out of bed, go for breakfast, to the beach, back for dining and back to bed. Plus, most desirable summer destination will have excellent food options and burning a few more calories before enjoying dinner has never hurt anyone. Of course, you can swim and go for long walks in some places, but not everywhere. For example, when I went to Crete, the sea was too rough to swim and the area around the hotel not the most inviting unfortunately. Have a look at that blog post if you are interested. The ‘gym’ in that hotel, however, was a complete joke. It consisted of a few pull-up bars out in the open and to address perceived ‘female’ needs the hotel offered yoga classes in the mornings. Needless to say: I attended neither. But that holiday was also one of those where I missed the gym the most. It could have compensated for a lot and filled an emotional void.
I wonder whether other people feel like I do or whether you would find it crazy to go to the gym during a holiday or business trip? In my opinion though, it really depends on how long the trip lasts and what your purpose really is. If you just want to recharge your batteries and do absolutely nothing – which we all need once in a while – then, forget about the gym. If all you want to do is walk around Rome, Paris or London, you also likely do not need a treadmill (although you might worry about your upper body gains). But if you travel solo and loathe successive solo-dinners, you may actually appreciate this little sanctuary to re-charge your batteries in a different way. And, more often than not, this is how I feel about a hotel gym, as a sanctuary.
Am I the only one or do other people also admire the art of travelling light? I am always amazed by people who can go on a week-long trip with a carry-on suitcase and still look somewhat put together. I don’t know how they do it. It’s aspirational. I, on the other hand, have no problem bringing a full-sized suitcase and a carry-on on a three-day trip (yes, Milan 2025; it was great). And believe it or not, that amount of luggage doesn’t cater for all options, weather situations or a change of coats. I simply do not manage to pack efficiently; it is as simple as that. While in real life, I am content with little and get overwhelmed by too much stuff and cluttered spaces, packing a suitcase is somehow in a different orbit. I can actually remember the last time I managed to travel with carry-on only, and that was to London in October 2024. Because, you guessed it, the trip was hardly 48 hours and the weather in London in October will always be cold and rainy and all you need is a pair of rainproof shoes, a jumper and not much else.
But currently, I am staring my aspirational choice of a “no check-in baggage” ticket option right in the eye; and I am determined to make it work. We all need to challenge ourselves from time to time and get out of our comfort zone (the comfort of being overly prepared in my case). I tell myself that it will be for only two nights and that I can do it, but somehow, I am still having doubts. In my defence, I need to also let you know that I have a small carry-on trolley and not the maxed-out kind that many other travellers use. I find it sleeker, handier, and in all honesty, I often travel on the smaller planes where the large ones just don’t fit, and the airline makes you check them in at the gate. And then what? Shall I carry my laptop, camera etc. in my hand from that point on? Definitely not. So, even though I find it difficult to pack less, it was a conscious choice to buy this ticket fare.
Not because I am excessively cheap, but because I thought that bringing an actual suitcase on such a short trip would be completely ridiculous. And if there is one thing I hate, it’s to look ridiculous. At the same time, I also hate being inappropriately dressed. It’s a real struggle for a person who likes to make a bella figura at all times.
One of the factors that makes this experiment of hand-luggage only travel somewhat easier is that there is no time for … wait, no; the hotel doesn’t have a gym. That was one of the compromises I had to make when looking for an aesthetically pleasing and affordable hotel option. It’s a shame of course, but what can you do? So, discounting an entire gym outfit, including chunky trainers will definitely come in handy when trying to minimize the number of things I am going to bring. Maybe one of these days I should tell you about my love-hate relationship with hotel gyms. It’ll be a fun blog to read, I promise.
But it is not necessarily the gym that I miss. Sometimes, I would just love to go for a nice morning run to see a place in the silent hours before it will all be flooded with traffic or flocks of tourists. I get jealous at the morning runners in Paris or on beach promenades. There is just something so scenic and calm about running along the river banks; joining the regulars and covering so much more area than you ever could on a walk. Let’s just say that for now, I will put that plan on the back burner and see how and if I have space left in the end. Unlikely, you are probably thinking. And I am sure you are right.
Ever since I booked this trip, got my museum tickets, and chose a hotel, I have been mulling over the question of what a woman actually needs on a weekend trip. Will I take a chance on the hair dryer? Improbable. So that will need to come. What about shoes? That’s a difficult one. Although – unlike what my work colleagues seem to believe – I am not a reincarnation of Emilda Marcos (aka your average luxury fashion influencer). I do, however, strongly believe in dressing for the occasion.
In my case, this will be an urban environment, likely featuring cobble stone streets, and long-distance walking for two days. I don’t believe in wearing trainers out in daily life and Converse seem, well, not elegant enough for the place I am going to. Likely I am looking at three pairs of shoes here: one for walking, one for dinners out, and something comfier to wear on the plane? In any event, I recommend bringing more than one pair of shoes. If ever they turn out to be uncomfortable and you get into a blister situation, you want to be able to change your shoes, believe me. I was once so desperate and in pain that I ended up buying a new pair of moccasins in Paris (as in: the first ones I could find), and that isn’t really a great plan because in the grand scheme of things you probably neither need nor want the ‘first best option’ pair of shoes in your closet later on.
With clothes, I am surprisingly much lower maintenance. I have embraced being the basic girl when it comes to outfits, because I find them more age appropriate ever since I crossed the 35 divide and basic outfits are much easier to combine. The same three or four pieces can go a long way in terms of different outfits. Since I must be extra minimalist here, I’ll content myself with one pair of dark denim – because they are both day and evening appropriate and can be dressed up or down, depending on the context.
Toiletries and makeup are a no-brainer since I have my pre-assembled a ‘travel bag’ in a drawer and I can simply grab my gym kit for makeup. However, there’s always the miscellaneous stuff: a hairbrush, chargers, a journal, my agenda, spare glasses, sunglasses, an umbrella, and a foldable shopping bag because in most European countries, you no longer get a bag in the shops and supermarkets – or they are made of paper, which will be pointless once it starts to rain.
Even though nobody likes to talk about these mundane items, they do take up real space. So, to all those: “Why are you bringing so much stuff” interrogators, please let me know how you deal with these items when you travel. I am genuinely curious and would really appreciate some comments or ideas.
And in the end, I need some space, as in ‘ma’ or empty space, because I might just buy a little something.
Over the course of the last year, I have been visiting Palma de Mallorca on a number of occasions; not exactly for leisurely travel but that does not mean that I did not get a chance to explore parts of life in the capital of the Balearic Islands. It wasn’t about sightseeing or shopping, but about daily life. Regaining strength after a life-changing surgery, I could only walk. Not far, not much, and with many breaks in between. But when I think about it, doing exactly that would also be the perfect starting point for any solo-traveller exploring a new city.
While Palma is blessed with many benches and opportunities to sit down and enjoy the beautiful scenery and weather, such as on the central Passeig des Born, weeks and weeks of walking also requires some more interesting stops and longer breaks, just as any tourist exploring the city by foot would need and be interested in.
This is how I came to sample a number of cafés within the inner city of Palma. I have visited the city in late spring, early summer and autumn, which gave me plenty of opportunity to revisit certain spots I uncovered as a tourist or find new ones altogether when rest was my priority.
If you love coffee and café culture as much as I do and have a soft spot for a good matcha latte, too, here are some recommendations of where to find a nice vibey coffee spot in Palma. For this blog, I have decided to keep it modern, and I won’t be talking about cultural heritage and traditional cafés and coffee houses. If you are interested in that, check out my earlier blog. This time, it is about contemporary coffee culture, the kind of café that I like to frequent anywhere in the world, just with a uniquely Spanish touch. I am talking about places where you can rest and unwind, people-watch and get inspired or simply savour a beautiful, quiet moment in your day.
Of course, my list of cafés of choice is based on extremely subjective and unscientific criteria. It’s about gut feelings and vibes and not much about those can be objectively measured. Taste is subjective by definition and so are feelings of well-being and comfort. Similarly, some people like their coffee strong while others don’t. And if you like filter coffee, I suggest you skip this article and revisit my blog another day. Spaniards like their coffee strong, and so do I.
Likewise, this is not an article about the 5 most instagrammable cafés or hidden gems or anything like that, because for starters I don’t think any place in central Palma remains hidden and beyond that, there are really only four places I want to recommend this time around. I think I have said it before, but I am a creature of habit and once I like something, I go back. And if a place did not impress me the first time around or ruined my experience by having me scan a QR code or having a disappointing rest room, I am not really willing to come back and give them a second chance. So, even though you will only find four cafés listed here, I did visit many more. They just did not make the cut, because I take my coffee and customer experience very seriously.
My absolute and unrivaled favourite on this list is Dome. There is much to be said about this café as it really ticked many of my high-maintenance boxes. I love the modern, stylish design combined with traditional vibes of the place. It’s a perfect blend of contemporary café culture and Spanish gastronomy, excellently managed.
The café con leche is strong and generous and the matcha beautifully served. Seating is comfortable with street views that offer a calming environment for a relaxing coffee moment or cozy stop on a rainy autumn day. It is frequented by both tourists and locals which makes it vibrant and contemporary, and staff are kind, attentive and friendly.
Another place I have been returning to more than once is Menut. It is young and vibrant with a bit of a boho touch; the matcha latte was outstanding and I can equally recommend the cortado and café con leche. If you are interested in a bite, Menut is your place, too.
The only drawback about this café is the outdoor seating situation; it’s not exactly cozy or picturesque on the rather busy Jaime III junction but at least you have beautiful palm tree views on the Passeig de Mallorca, which kind of makes up for the noise from the street already.
I would say it is a great place for a break when you are out and about, well placed between the seafront and the centre of town. It is maybe less of a destination for a lazy morning or a spot you’d do some work at.
For a more laid-back coffee moment, I recommend El Grano de Caféwhich is located in a quiet street near the Mercat de l’Olivar. It is a chill cool café with beautiful indoor seating and reasonable outdoor seating, both of which offer excellent people-watching opportunities. I can’t say it is my favourite coffee in town, and it definitely is ‘watered down’ a bit for the more global taste (Spanish coffee is generally stronger I find), but I still like this place very much. I think it is the chilled location and overall vibe that make me rank it quite high up there. Service is a bit slow as they seem somewhat sparingly staffed, but who cares? You are there for coffee, not in an emergency room. No one is saving lives here and we are not on the run. Just sit back and relax. If you are into hanging out in cafés, you’ll like this one.
Last but not least in my list is Hotel Cappuccinoon Plaza de Cort. The café con leche is excellent and the view into the square is very pretty; however, you do need to spend more for your coffee than elsewhere, that just comes with the ambiance, as it is one of the more luxurious hotels in town. For me, it’s absolutely worth it. My old-school personality very much appreciates the atmosphere of the hotel and only because it does not fit within my vibey coffee spot criteria, do I rank it lower on my list. For me, it is more of a Sunday outing kind of place that you intentionally go to, rather than a café you’d stop at along the way.
None of my recommendations are sponsored. They are the result of my genuine opinions and impressions. I have paid for all my coffees myself.
There are three things that come in a box and/or cube format that I absolutely cannot live without when I travel. These are a Tupperware (yes, I am that kind of person), my Tumi travel cubes and my Max Mara cube vest. Of course, the last two items also come in more affordable versions these days, but I am not exactly crazy about shopping and this is why I like to invest in quality pieces that last me many years to avoid the hassle (and expenditure) of constantly having to repurchase the same things.
Would I flaunt a Tupperware the size of a cornflakes box on the breakfast table, unashamedly filling it with everything on display? Hardly. But I still find it ok to discretely pack something healthy to eat into it before heading out to the airport. And this takes me to exactly my point. Those of you who travel a lot will know that not only is the airport food and drink scene helplessly overpriced, but the main problem is the kind of food on offer. All of it is sweet, ultra-processed and devoid of any protein or greens. This is why I pack my Tupperware. I pack it for a trip with healthy snacks or even a sandwich, not because I am cheap, but because I do not feel like eating rubbish or nothing at all just because the choice will be poor. And it is something we already know in advance, it is foreseeable, and therefore, I plan ahead.
Mind you, my Tupperware habit has also saved a diabetic colleague on a business trip when the travel time unexpectedly extended by three hours and he did not have any food on him. Just saying.
Second on my list is my beloved Tumi travel cube. It is now 14 years old and still going strong. In its ordinary life, it keeps my office attire neat and wrinkle free in my gym bag five days a week. On its more exciting outings it helps me organize my outfits and assists me in being less of a mess when packing. While it did come with a hefty price tag, I do not regret this expenditure one single day.
To the contrary, I am so grateful that this accessory has never let me down. If you are interested in a great quality travel cube that keeps its shape (which I think is the one quality that keeps it in a class of its own compared to other brands), you might want to consider investing in one. Maybe there will even be Black Friday offers; it may be worth looking out for that.
Last but not least I need to mention my Max Mara cube vest I repurchased again after several years in Milan last spring. It has been my single most worn piece of clothing ever since; summer or winter (not much of a difference where I live) and particularly when travelling. I don’t know about you, but I often find that the air cabin temperature is way below 20 degrees Celsius (according to google that is 68 degrees Fahrenheit) and I find that to be very cold.
This is where the vest comes in so handy. It weighs next to nothing but keeps me so incredibly warm. You can stuff it in whatever overpacked bag you bring as a carry on because it also takes up so little space. You can wear it under another jacket to, for example, bring a trench up a notch to being as warm as a winter jacket. This is particularly helpful when you cross the weather divide and do not want to schlepp around a winter coat but also don’t fancy coming down with the flu the day after.
All in all, this vest has been a lifesaver for me on several trips and will continue to be just that for years to come.
And there you have it. My three most reliable boxes I bring on every trip.
Granted, they are not the prettiest arrangement when seen in their raw state, but they are unbeatable when in action.
Especially the Tupperware, I dare you to try on your next trip. You can thank me later.
As always, none of my recommendations are sponsored. I am not affiliated with any of the brands.
Since my recent surgery a few weeks ago, the doctor only allows me to walk, so I walk. But the tricky part is that walking in the lion’s den of mass tourism isn’t so easy. You have to be early, very early to avoid the crowds. As my walking radius and general state improved a little bit, I have seen a lot – too much if you ask me – of tourist behaviour that makes me question my own frequent travel habits. Is it still okay to travel to popular destinations? I honestly don’t know. Already visiting Dubrovnik this summer – a destination my family has been holidaying in since the 1950s – was unpleasant this year. Hundreds of tourists rolling through the ancient streets, buying trinkets made in China and seeing nothing beyond a façade featured in Game of Thrones.
I wondered whether any locals are actually still living there or whether all apartments have been snatched up and converted into holiday apartments. Most restaurants have unfortunately already downgraded to selling pizza and burgers only – with pictures of course – and waiters addressing every customer in English by default.
I wonder whether it is normal to order a full English breakfast outside of the UK or what goes through someone’s mind when they decide to lay their baby on the table in a restaurant at lunch time. Luckily, I left before finding out what the purpose of that was (besides filming a TikTok) because the other scenarios I could come up with were too unpleasant to imagine. And what’s up with Aperol at 10 a.m. or shady business deals done on a bistro table? Let me tell you, if your business partner or estate agent asks you to sign papers in a café, you should run, not sign.
Another ‘favourite’ of mine are those who feel so much at home, they forget they are in a foreign country. Since when is it okay to address people in your own language when abroad? No, Mallorca is not a part of Germany and ‘Danke’ isn’t Spanish, just in case anyone was still in doubt.
Not only do the masses of people make it unpleasant to walk around after 12 a.m. (with a COVID-style surgical mask of course because people seem to find it okay to cough into a stranger’s face on the street) but they kill any sort of uniqueness of the places they go. In quite a few cases, It also does not seem that they were looking for it in the first place. Thrown out of a tour bus or only following the crowds of others on the main street, they do not look left or right, and I wonder what it is they see apart from the screen of their mobile phones and the same high street shops they have at home.
But if you care to find the things you don’t have where you live, you got to get up early. Then, you will be able to admire the beauty of the architecture and soak up a bit of the original charm of where you are. You’ll see people going to work, stopping for a coffee; you’ll see the waitress usher in and greet the regular, who has trouble moving about with his simmer frame, waiting for his friends to take a morning coffee and catch up. You’ll catch a smile and see beyond the masses of rowdy, noisy tourists buying counterfeit bags around the main tourist attraction sites supporting all sorts of illegal activity and unpleasant vibes with their impulse buys without the glimpse of reflection about their significant contribution to this dark economy.
It makes more and more sense to me that many popular tourist destinations are photographed at the crack of dawn or even at night: Venice, for example. Just because there is no more Venice to see once the hoards descend from the cruise ships and flood the tiny streets of Europe’s most popular destinations. Maybe I have too much time on my hands now that my main task in life is to go on recovery walks. Maybe. But what I see makes me think about my own tourist behaviour and whether less isn’t more.
I recently had to travel for personal reasons, not connected with my love for leisurely trips. That also meant that I had to stay abroad for a few weeks, which in turn made a hotel stay impossible; I mean, I am not Coco Chanel, unfortunately.
Staying in an apartment – and don’t get me wrong, it was a very nice apartment, centrally located and generally quite fabulous – I was, however, again reminded why I loathe staying in apartments when traveling. For starters, the owners hardly ever manage these properties full-time. Thus, you always get exactly that: someone who is “looking after” you and the flat on the side; never a priority, never fully committed, never top-notch service. They’ll fit you in between work and family life, even though you are a paying customer, not a relative coming to stay.
And then, there is the usual that seems to come with every flat – globally. Stuff doesn’t work. You get the induction, and already you are being told that the toilet flush is temperamental and doesn’t work properly; you’ll have to push a few times to make the water stop running. I mean, first of all, what is it with toilets that literally everywhere you go, there’s an issue with the flush? Second, why don’t you, dear landlady, just get the plumber to fix it before you accept paying guests?
Then, we have the miscellaneous electric issue or broken boiler or what have you. Yes, they are kind, they understand, they call the electrician/handyman and yes, he’ll come tomorrow. At three o’clock? Yeah, that’s great, thanks. Because that’s really what I came here for. To wait for the electrician. Fantastic. And you know (or should have known) the guy doesn’t show up at three, but he’ll be there at two-thirty because he can, and you are still with wet hair coming out of the shower; lucky you were wearing a pair of trousers already when he rang the doorbell. And I am not even going to mention the shoes-in-the-flat issue. It is what it is. He won’t know English, that’s clear. Luckily, I know a few languages; that usually helps. And he’ll use your fresh kitchen towel to put his tools on. Don’t worry, he’ll be very kind and carefully put it back later, as if you were totally still going to use that to dry your dishes.
Speaking of the dishes. Yes, you have the de luxe flat with the dishwasher, and wow, they even have about two dishwashing tablets left so you can lay off the groceries for half a day, but guess what, you are not just staying for two days, so of course you’re going to the supermarket and buying new dishwasher tablets immediately. Only to then find those cute little red lights blinking when you first want to run the dishwasher. And then you go the next day again, to buy the salt and rinse aid. And when you are there in the local supermarket or drugstore, buying wiping cloths (why do flats never have them?) and sponges – because the one you found was minging and, yes, all the crockery in the cupboard was kind of sticky and you need to wash stuff on the side because you cannot run the dishwasher for one cup, can you? – you ask yourself: is this really why I traveled to a foreign country? To queue in a store buying cleaning products for a flat that isn’t even mine?
Another classic is the: why are there no hooks to hang towels? What are you supposed to do with those? And tissues? Kitchen towels and toilet paper? Always on the last roll, half down and the olive oil on its last drops. So you have to go buy that, too. And even though you did find some Tupperware in the drawer, it’s the rubbish kind that doesn’t close and all your cut fruit goes brown. By that time, you are already kind of fed up with sponsoring the landlady and decide to buy kod kineza, i.e. the local Chinese market that stocks absolutely everything and most definitely constitutes a fire hazard.
You buy your Tupperware and really got to remind yourself that, no, you shouldn’t buy hooks or a trash bin for the bathroom, because it isn’t your bathroom after all. But, of course, you are going to spend on stuff you did not need and more importantly, you are wasting your time. I already don’t particularly enjoy dealing with handymen or doing that kind of shopping at home. Constantly armed with bags schlepping about kitchen towel and dishwasher salt, you spend your day – doing chores.
All the things that holidaymakers seem to buy must be appearing in the black hole of the landlord’s households. Apart from the leftover shampoos and shower gels – of which there are plenty in the bathroom and which you neither need nor want to try.
The other side of the holiday apartment coin is the fact that you are losing out on so much because you create your own little microcosm, cooking the same food you cook at home, having the same breakfast, and missing out on interactions with the locals. It’s a bit sad, really; in the first three days of my stay, I felt like a student equipping my dorm again; ping-ponging between the flat, the Chinese, and the supermarket. I had a few relaxing coffees in the meantime, but that was all. Had I been in a hotel, I would have seen so much more, and I would have gone out and had dinner or lunch or both. I would have been helped and served by people whose job it is to work in tourism and restaurants.
In a way, I really do understand those locals who seek to curb the holiday home trend; taking up precious living space that the locals can no longer afford without really contributing much to the economy. I get it. And from the traveller’s perspective, I also think it is a bad deal. If you are going on a short trip that does not really require you to have access to a washing machine, etc., I would really urge you to reconsider the holiday apartment thing. It just isn’t worth it. Go to a hotel, get pampered, get looked after, and simply enjoy! Experience the food and the culture, not just the local supermarket.
I recently promised you another blog about Budapest. And one of the things that I take very seriously in life is keeping promises. And since my last blog about Budapest was a little heavy on the soul, I will keep it light this time and you may have guessed it, that usually means food. We’ll start with the coffee though, because all good things start with a coffee.
Budapest really struck me as a city that evolved around so many different influences; post-communist era chic mixed with Balkan vibes and Austrian flair. It is hard to describe really, as nothing I ever experienced really compares with Budapest. It’s humble and grandiose at the same times and glued together by the unique charm of its people and proud cuisine. Likewise, you can find all sorts of different cafés, ranging from modern hipster places to sumptuous over-the-top elegance.
A very heartfelt café recommendation I would like to share with you is Kávétársaság in the Lipótváros area. It’s cool, it’s modern, and fresh and really a great place to hang out because it just hits the right tone with its urban, minimalist vibe. While Kávétársaság was the kind of place you’d go to chill, you may, on the other hand fancy some serious kitsch and olden days charm and visit New York Café instead.
Touristy and overpriced, it is still absolutely worth the experience, but I would rather put it into the category of monument than café per se. Let’s say, it’s not where you’d go for your first coffee of the day moment.
The building itself is very extra and has an incredibly interesting history; the ambiance strongly reminiscent of the K&K days of the Austro-Hungarian Empire with its grandiose and lavish halls. It is quite a busy place as well, but don’t let that discourage you. The queues will move fast, as it is rather big.
Now, if you are more into the hearty cuisine of Hungary, you just cannot leave without savouring goulash or at least a goulash soup. I had both, obviously. The soup wasn’t bad, but I had it at a moment of the day when I was getting rather hangry, so there wasn’t really much choice involved when picking the restaurant. It was very touristic, and I didn’t really love it and thus I will not recommend it. Yet, I am a fan of goulash soup and having purchased approximately a pound of Paprika in Budapest’s market (If you want to know why, check out my earlier blog), I will undoubtedly cook some myself this winter.
The goulash I had later that evening (yes, same day, I know…), was, however, excellent and I am very happily recommending Szaletly restaurant, which is located in the somewhat quieter Istvánmező area, an area that reminded me very much of Serbia with its greenery and villas. I can’t really put my finger on it, but the vibe of the quite broad street just felt so very familiar.
In the evening, I would strongly advise you to get yourself a scenic spot on a rooftop bar overlooking the Danube. The Marriot hotel has a great rooftop bar with spectacular views. That said, you should absolutely book a table, as it isn’t very big and you may otherwise lose out on a table outside with the unobstructed views over the city skyline and all its beautiful major landmarks.
I said it before, and I will say it again: Budapest is a very beautiful and interesting city and needs to be visited again, periodically, if only for the Danube views and goulash.
None of the recommendations are sponsored in any way.
I am a notorious dreamer and romantic, and if you have followed me along, you will probably already know that I have the Balkan mentality of all or nothing, black or white, firmly engraved into my DNA. I love luxury and beautiful things, comfort, and style, and if something doesn’t remotely live up to that, I’d rather stay at home. However, none of us needs to stay at their factory default setting. We can educate ourselves and try to change ways where this is reasonable and actually to our benefit. In my case, I am trying to navigate what I want by finding suitable compromises for my travel goals when it’s necessary. Life is all about balance, and it is one of my declared goals in life to improve upon my skills of finding and loving balance.
Since I have literally just returned from my summer vacation, I am in a bit of a slump right now, as I am unable to go anywhere else just yet. But what can you do when you really want to go somewhere but can’t? I think the key to bridging the travel gap is to create little mental escape breaks for yourself along the way. Day trips, walks in a different park or forest, maybe a window-shopping and coffee-drinking trip to a nearby city you normally don’t go to. Maybe go for a spa day or have coffee in a sumptuous hotel lobby if you are craving a luxurious city break.
For me, as much as I love the urban stroll, cafés, and Parisian department stores, I also have an enormous soft spot for nature and walking. Call me boring or basic, but a walk in the forest just soothes my soul. And autumn is the most beautiful time of the year for it. I love the copper-golden tones of a beech forest and the calming scent of moss and chestnuts. The colours and the serene sound of a forest in autumn are just very special.
One day, I would really love to visit Japan. I find Japanese gardens so beautiful and impressively curated. It really is a distant and – at the moment – unrealistic dream of mine, but dreams are meant to be pursued, right? It is a matter of focus and priorities, and I am sure that one day I will be able to make it happen. I am working on it.
But the point of this blog I want to share with you is that sometimes, there also lies beauty in the ‘next best thing’ and baby steps can help you keep the focus on the big goal; in my case, a trip to Japan. There is a Japanese garden in the Netherlands that I recently had the chance to visit. Unfortunately, it only opens twice a year and its time has not come yet. But if you visit in mid-October, you will be able to see it in its full beauty. For now, I contented myself with snatching a sneak preview over the fence. It has such a unique touch and allure. Mossy green, curated maple trees waiting to turn bright red and beautiful bridges over green creeks make it look so special and stunning. I can only dream of how beautiful such a garden would be in Japan. However, just grasping a glimpse of this architecture made me dream of going to Japan, and the trip to the park was absolutely worth it.
Maybe you have something similar where you live. Maybe there’s a forest or park you normally don’t go to. And just maybe, you would actually love going for a walk there one day soon, to get a break, recharge, or to just enhance your natural glow with some sunshine and fresh air.
One of my former bosses who shall remain anonymous, of course, used to say: “Fake it, till you make it” – and to give him credit, he was the first real-life example actually implementing this maxim I ever met. He did well on that front; mostly, anyway.
Faking things to end up getting what you want is actually a great skill in many regards. And when it comes to travelling, I think you sometimes just need to fake it for yourself to help with the motivation and keep you focused on your goals.
The comfy traveller's diaries 