A Week in Mallorca: 175 Kilometers of Sun, Sand, and Sore Feet

When I planned my holiday in Mallorca, the vision was simple: seven days of idyllic wandering, covering 25 kilometers daily, basking in the sun, and soaking up the vibe of the island. What I didn’t realize was that I had also accidentally signed up for a makeshift walking marathon—a “Mallorcathon,” if you will.

Here’s how my week of sunburn, accidental friendships, and questionable snack choices unfolded:

Day 1: “Oh, This Will Be a Breeze”

Starting in Palma, I confidently laced up my walking shoes and hit the streets, armed with sunscreen and an ambitious smile. The weather was perfect, and so were the tapas. I covered the first 10 kilometers fueled entirely by a single bocadillo and an unhealthy amount of optimism.

By kilometer 20, I was Googling “how to walk with blisters.” By kilometer 25, I stumbled into a small bar in a random village, where I bonded with locals over a shared love for olives and complaining about the heat. Lesson of the day? Hydrate before you dehydrate.

Day 2: “Why Did I Bring a Backpack?”

The second day took me through the scenic Serra de Tramuntana mountains. Gorgeous views, yes. Sensible for walking with a backpack full of snacks and a camera? Absolutely not.

Somewhere along the way, a German tourist hiking with trekking poles slowed down to walk with me. “You look… determined,” he said, which was a polite way of pointing out I looked like a sweaty mess. We ended up hiking together for the rest of the day, debating whether Mallorcan oranges were the best in the world. (Spoiler: they are.)

Day 3: Beaches, Bliss, and Sand in Unmentionable Places

On Day 3, I hit the coast. After two days of hard terrain, walking on soft sand seemed like a vacation within a vacation—until I realized sand gets everywhere, and I mean everywhere.

I met an eccentric British couple lounging on the beach who offered me a sip of their sangria. “You’re walking how far?!” they gasped. “We barely walked to this beach bar!” To which I could only respond, “I question my life choices daily.”

Day 4: “The Sun is Not My Friend”

The mid-week sun turned on me. I started walking with the gait of someone who’d been stranded in the desert for three days, even though I was never more than 2 kilometers from a gelato stand.

At a seaside café, I met a retired French woman who joined me for a stretch of the walk. She gave me life advice, such as, “Don’t overpack” (too late), and, “Always carry good wine” (not too late). She left me with a bottle of local vino, which I promptly stashed in my increasingly heavy backpack.

Day 5: “I Think My Feet Hate Me”

By Day 5, my feet had staged a full rebellion. I compensated by eating pastries at every village I passed through. Mallorcan ensaimadas are, without exaggeration, the nectar of the gods—and probably the only reason I made it through that day.

I also befriended a group of cyclists who offered me water and invited me to a barbecue. I politely declined, citing my “strict” walking schedule, but not before stealing one of their bananas. Never underestimate the power of potassium.

Day 6: “Am I Still in Mallorca?”

Day 6 was a blur of sleepy villages, picturesque olive groves, and one terrifying encounter with a goat that refused to move from the trail.

At a tiny beach, I met a local fisherman who shared grilled sardines and stories about growing up on the island. “You walk too much,” he said. “Why not just enjoy?” Wise words, but at this point, stopping felt like admitting defeat.

Day 7: Victory Lap or Limp?

The final day brought me back to Palma, where I treated myself to a massive seafood paella as a reward. My legs felt like jelly, my tan was patchy at best, and I had more mosquito bites than I cared to count, but I’d done it: 175 kilometers in seven days.

As I sat on a terrace, watching the sunset, I realized that Mallorca isn’t just about its beaches or its mountains or even its food. It’s the people—friendly, quirky, and always ready with a drink or a story—who make the island unforgettable.

Would I do it again? Ask me after my feet recover.

Conclusion:

If you’re considering a holiday in Mallorca, I highly recommend it. Just maybe keep your walking ambitions under 25 kilometers a day. Or at least invest in better shoes.