Ok. Forgive me. I quoted a movie. And not even a particularly good movie (despite Leonardo DiCaprio, of course).  It’s just that I read this somewhere recently and have been lately thinking about it a lot in relation to my experience here in Mallorca… and I’ve decided that it’s good advice. (Leo’s not just handsome you know, he’s smart too).

When you come to a place knowing no one (as I did to Mallorca) it seems to me you have two choices: follow Leo’s advice or be alone and sad. Sure, if you do the first you’re going to have run-ins with weird people, uncomfortable situations and often numerous awkward silences. But if you do the second you’re not going to have anything much better (if you have anything at all) and you’ll be alone and sad.

You see, if you do the first you can eat delicious, traditional Mallorcan barbeque at an outdoor party in the middle of winter, you can drink lovely, frosty beers with two genuinely nice guys in a hidden, mountainside village, and you can spend the afternoon trading slang phrases in Spanish and English with a bunch of teenagers.

You can see a fireworks show that rivals anything the 4th of July could put together and pet donkeys on a misty mountain top. You can eat lunch on a sailboat in the middle of the sea and find beaches with water the color of glass.

You can get this:

And this:

And this:

And this:

And you can give, too. You can certainly always give. Because, most likely, someone else out there is following Leo’s advice too and would be thrilled to accept your invitation.

Unfortunately, their departure has left me with this homesickness, that still, one week later, I can’t really seem to shake. Of course things like this are always worse if you don’t make a real effort to stay busy and surround yourself with things that make you happy.  I have Mondays free from work and free to myself which means I can either a) wallow or b) go out and do things to shut up those annoying little voices in my head that seem to chatter about when I have no one else to talk to (because most normal people work on Mondays).

So today, I got up, ate a delicious breakfast of toast and cafe con leche on my patio under a sky of fluffy clouds that really seemed reluctant to be shielding the sun from me, and set off to the  Mercat d’Olivar (the large market in the center of Palma) to inspire some cooking and feed my inner cerdita (little piggy). That inner cerdita has recently become a bit of an outer cerdita as well due to lack of exericise and penchant for chocolates and pastries (and chocolate filled pastries), which is unfortunate, but that’s another story.

The market is beautiful. Crammed with stalls bursting with produce: flowery heads of lettuces, gorgeous strawberries and citrus, and an impressive selection of herbs, among other things. Along with not-so-beautiful (though equally as important if that’s your thing) counters stuffed with meats (including whole pigs and chickens), salamis, sausages, cheeses, etc.

I picked up a basket of stunning strawberries from Huelva (Southern Spain), which, I promise you, taste as good as they look, and cleaned them up so I can enjoy them whenever I want.

I also got some wonderfully fresh salad greens and a few bunches of spinach, which I mixed together and promptly used to make a delicious salad with caramelized onions and goat’s cheese for lunch.

And with these guys (my favorite spring vegetable):

I’m going to make this: Absurdly Addictive Asparagus from Food52. (Which reminds me, if you’ve never heard of it before, go there now. Right now. food52.com.)

I just talked to my cerdita, she says “Yummmm.”

And while I may be a bit homesick for California right now, it’s always good to remind myself of what I’ll miss the most when I leave Mallorca, because I will leave, and soon. Speaking of which, I think I’ll go read in the park and enjoy this sunny Monday afternoon that I have all to myself.

I’ve loved Palma from the beginning.  Of course, as with any new relationship there were things about it that I didn’t quite care for at first. I might have said some not-so-nice things and thought some even less-nice things. I always knew there was something special between us, but we had our differences in the beginning (understandable).

Today, however, as I walked in the gentle sunshine past gorgeous buildings, through charming neighborhoods and alongside friendly faces, I realized that I don’t just love this place… I’ve fallen hard. And I mean hard. It’s like can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t eat (well, no, I can always eat), can’t sleep kind of love. No, I don’t just love it… I am totally head-over-heels, crazy-in-deep in love with this place.

Whew. It’s kind of a scary feeling. Even scarier to put it into words. But it feels good. It feels really good.

This would normally be the time I would begin to freak out and write all about how I can’t believe I only have two months left here in this amazing place and I can’t believe how fast time goes and I can’t believe this and I can’t believe that.

But no. Not right now. Right now I’m just going to sit here and smile and enjoy being in love. Because how often to you just get to do that?

And this:

And this:

And this.

The sun, the sea, beautiful Palma, a good book, and chocolate (of course)… wonderful.

If I’m lost, I find the sea.

I mean this in the most literal sense. The sea is an excellent land mark, and if I ever find myself lost while exploring the beautiful city of Palma, I just head to the sea and then I can find my bearings. I did the same thing while living in Barcelona last year. In my opinion, you can never really be lost if you know where the sea is.

This is why it’s very handy that I live on an island. I am surrounded by the sea and have instant access (well, ten-minute-stroll access) to it at all times.  This fact also comes in handy when I apply my theory that you can never really be lost if you know where the sea is to my emotional well-being.

I was taught from the beginning that rather than fear the ocean you should understand it, respect it and also enjoy it. Almost as soon as I could swim my dad showed me how to dive deep under the waves and come up on the other side just in time to dodge the next one. He explained the rythm of it to me, helped me understand its patterns and taught me to never, ever turn my back on it. By the time I was ten I knew what to do if caught in the “dishwasher” and I knew that if you were going to play chicken with the waves, sometimes you’d have to empty a load of sand out of your bathing suit.

I was raised to love the water: oceans, seas, lakes, rivers, pools too, although they are less poetic. And even though I still harbor a few slightly irrational fears about the creatures (mainly fish… okay, and sharks) that swim below me, I still find great comfort in knowing where the closest body of water is.

And that, for me, is the best thing about being rodeada de agua, surrounded by water. The sea is always in the same place. It might look different or act different from day to day but you can count on it always being there and that gives me great peace.

I try to interact with and appreciate the sea at least once a day here. Whether that means going for a run along the boardwalk, a walk in the sand or a dip in the water, I like to go and just take a look. It centers me. It helps me breathe. It reminds me that I’m still here, and that even if I feel a little lost at times, I’m in the right place and doing the right thing– just like the sea.

So I cooked this: Arroz con Chorizo y Pimientos (Rice with Chorizo and Roasted Red Peppers)

It was riquísimo (delicious). I used the recommended arborio rice which turned creamy and tender during cooking, and the smoky chorizo added just enough spice and amazing richness, which was offset by the sweetness of the peppers sprinkled throughout. Wonderful. Although, if I was a smarter version of me I might have added some fresh herbs on top to give it a little spark. (I hadn’t thought about that detail at the market though, so I did without).

And while that cooked (and while I contentedly stuffed my face with it when it was finished) these little gems were popping away in the oven: Roasted Chickpeas (I made them with some cumin, paprika and sea salt). Again, delicious, but apparently my “airtight” tupperware containers aren’t so airtight so these guys went a little stale after a day. Nevertheless, right out of the oven (or with proper storage options) these are an amazing snack: salty, crunchy but not too crunchy, with the added bonus of being full of protein. (I don’t think I’ve mentioned my obsession with chickpeas yet, have I? I would do a bang-up job as Global Chickpea Advocate. Consider it mentioned.)

My photos of these two dishes didn’t quite meet my standards (and I have low standards) so I’ll let the photos on their original sites do the job, but just to make up for it a little, and because I haven’t gotten the chance to show these off yet, here are some of my favorite photos of creations I have cooked up in the past (no recipe accompaniments because I made them up and don’t remember how I did them…)

asparagus and pea soup

asparagus, potato and goat cheese quiche

and finally,

chocolate cupcakes with vanilla buttercream frosting and lemon cupcakes with lemon buttercream frosting

Pretty, right? Good thing I just ate, or else these would make me very hungry

So anyway, despite all the boo-hooing I managed to get over the hump and really get settled in and begin enjoying myself (it was really hard getting used to afternoon siestas on the beach, as you can imagine). Moral of the story: I’m so happy to be here, living in such a beautiful place, and I am fully aware of how lucky I am to be here. Let me show you what I mean.

Reading through old journal entries the other day, I came across one titled “6 word memoirs” followed by a few of my attempts. The idea is to write something about yourself in six words. I’m sure I saw the idea somewhere in a writer’s guide as a warmup and was inspired/amused by this example: “Never really finished anything, except cake.” (I wish I could take credit for this, but I can’t). At the time it reminded me of me, if only because I really like cake. But now it also reminds me of other things about myself and makes me really want to start (and finish!) this blog. I started  (and didn’t finish) one last year. I tried, but I’ll admit, I failed. My theory is that the idea for this said blog wasn’t sustainable enough, or possibly (though this is less likely) I just got a little too “busy” enjoying my last year of college. Either way,  now it’s just sitting out there in cyberspace floating around in a permanent state of unfinished, and that makes me sad.

But things are different this time. I have a plan, I have goals and I have a bit more time on my hands. Not only that but I’m living abroad, on a paradise island off the coast of Spain, called Mallorca, so I feel like I have something to share. Now let me be clear, I’m living and working here, this is my normal life for the time being, so this won’t be a fabulously entertaining account of skydiving, spider eating, and shark swimming. It will be a blog about what it’s like to live in this beautiful country, far from home, meet new people, become familiar with a different culture, learn a foreign language, deal with certain difficulties and enjoy the many amazing and distinct opportunities I have the fortune to experience.

That’s why I was a little reluctant to start this in the first place, I was afraid it might be a tad boring. But then I realized that even if I’m my only reader, that’s okay, and that maybe this is more for me than it is for you anyway.  So there you go. And here we go…