The drive up to Soller from Palma isn’t too long, but tracing through the Mallorcan mountains made for a windy ride. It’s the closest I’ll ever get to being in a James Bond film, cruising through the Mediterranean with the mountains on the right, ocean on the left.
We parked the car and did a quick walk through the town, which was lined with oranges that had at least one leaf attached to each golden orb. The orange and lemon trees were everywhere – backyards, streets and groves, all leading up to the ferrocarril line to Port de Sóller. The magical tram ride brought us to a bright blue cove against a backdrop of Mallorca’s green hills. It was stunning.
I pulled out an orange from my bag, knowing for sure that this was a moment worth remembering. I knew that the orange I was peeling was probably the best I will ever have in my life. I tried to memorize every note my taste buds were sending to my brain as each pulp burst in my mouth.
We took a couple oranges for our travels, and it was only a matter of two days that the pores started growing little mouldy dots. The best food does not travel well and is most magical when set against the backdrop of its natural habitat.
Until the next time I visit Soller, that will have been the first and last time I have ever eaten an orange.
