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This picture of Annie Karpe Vila and Tono Vila, our hosts in Mallorca, is redolent of the warm, loving atmosphere that surrounded us throughout our five sunny days in their beautiful Pont D'Inca home, which was designed by architect Tono. If their daughter Jenny had been in this shot it would have made the image complete for we were in Mallorca to celebrate Annie's 60th and Jenny's 30th birthdays. After weeks of general planning, after days of concentrated hard work on preparing a superb five-course meal for 80 people, and after a night-long party that wound up somewhere around 5 am, Annie and Tono were still happily relaxed later in the day when they drove us for lunch in Pollenca.
Alright, Tono was enjoying an extended siesta soon after this picture was taken. But he had certainly earned it!
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Through the mountains to Soller
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With our son Jonathan and his partner Jenny Vila busy helping Annie and Tono get ready for the Saturday night party, Liz and I set off with Jenny's friend Sanna Stellan, a Finnish actress and writer, on a remarkable train journey from Palma to Soller (pronounced Soya). The old wooden built coaches rattled uncomfortably as they climbed northwards through the mountains and dropped slowly down to Soller where we transferred to an equally ancient tram for the last lap of the journey down to Port de Soller. But the marvellous views through the open windows were compensation even for me - I was still suffering the aftermath of a very unsettling four-hour ferry trip from Barcelona to Mallorca (the first time I had ever been sea-sick!)
Liz and Sanna chatted happily enough and were very understanding of my "introspection", a polite euphemism for my obvious lack of joie de vivre. They enjoyed an excellent meal while I nibbled on a baguette and on our return to Soller they wandered off to shop while I sat contentedly on a bench in the main square, feeling quite at home as I watched one local elderly gent after another bring a seat out to sit in the shade of the trees. A few elderly women joined them for animated conversation though I understood none of it. But I could have been mistaken for one of them!
We returned to Palma to find that Jenny was racing around doing some late shopping so we caught a local bus out to Pont D'Inca and thanks to Sanna's excellent memory got off at exactly the right stop, just a few hundred yards walk to the Vilas' house.
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En route to Soller
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Liz and Sanna pose with the Palma-Soller train
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That night I slept early and long and was able to enjoy a decently large helping of a delicious pasta bolognese that Liz cooked up in an industrial-sized quantity next day. It actually fed 15 people with the arrival of Annie's Swedish family - sister Eva Karpe and brother Stefan Karpe with his three sons, Mattias, Johannes and Samuel. Eva, a singer and pianist who trains and conducts her own choir in Stockholm, gave me a CD of the Markuskyrkans Kammarkor performing some of his own works with jazz pianist Steve Dobrogosz (his Mass is very exciting and moving, with all the immediacy you get with a live recording). Stefan, a conductor who has worked with Esa Pekka Salonen and leading musicians, is based at Uppsala university.
By the time the party actually started, I was ready to eat again, was able to sample all the dishes but was specially impressed with the duck and the final chocolate cake. (When my mother in law was still alive I always enjoyed her chocolate cake instead of the traditional heavy birthday cake mix.) After food came entertainment that included an enjoyable set from a female jazz vocalist with a male guitarist (names unknown) and a comic turn from a tall, willowy drag artist of which I understood a fair bit despite the language barrier (you couldn't miss some of the innuendo). He/she was also a very good singer and one unaccompanied Spanish song was rivetting. The 80 guests were clearly impressed. Somehow, I stayed with it until after 3am when I quietly slipped away to lie dozing on our mosquito-net protected bed until Liz eventually joined me about 4.30.
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I don't know if the net was effective at night, by the way, but both of us were well bitten through the early evenings out in the open air and two days after returning to England the bites still itch painfully.
We slept until about midday on the Sunday and an hour or so later Tono drove us to Na Ruixa, a splendid restaurant in Port de Pollenca where I did more than justice to a pork fillet with french fries (chips are not recognised in Spain) while Liz shared in a superb paella. We were joined at the restaurant by Sanna who had travelled out with Jonathan, Jenny and Sienna, as well as by a long-time friend of Annie's from Stockholm, Christel Dertell, her husband Hans, daughter Rebecca and son Johan. Jenny's sister Jessica turned up late with husband Jose and their daughter Sofia because they had had to take their two-year-old son Alvar to hospital after a fall. A large lump on his forehead testified to the severity of the bump but he recovered swiftly. A stroll along the beautiful beach ended at another restaurant where we enjoyed coffee or soft drinks, with ices for the children.
That evening we all rested, with Tono understandably having a long sleep before joining Annie in the kitchen to give us a wonderful 11pm supper that included pork with a tarragon sauce and a fresh mango ice-cream made by Jenny. Typical of the Spanish, or at least the Mallorcans, our hosts seemed reluctant to let the moment pass but we were off to bed in time to sleep for a good six or seven hours before facing the journey back to England. Jonathan had travelled out with me by rail and ferry from London to Paris to Barcelona to Palma but he and Jenny were flying back to Edinburgh and Liz used his tickets on the return trip. The Mediterranean was well-behaved so no sea-sickness this time, and the overnight sleeper to Paris was comfortable. Unusually, the Eurostar was 45 minutes late into Waterloo because of a delay in the channel tunnel, but after more than 30 hours of travel we arrived at Nuneaton one minute early. Remarkable - like the Virgin Pendolino train we had travelled on from Euston!
There will be many things to remind us of our Spanish journey, of course. Firstly, we loved seeing our granddaughter Sienna again and watching her becoming more responsive to individuals, crawling everywhere, hauling herself up on to stacked chairs, laughing when Jonathan repeated his interminable chicken impressions - Sienna loved them so who am I to complain. The party itself, out under the clear night sky, with the splendid lighting rigged by Jenny and friends, the conversation that seemed to range no further than conductors we have known, composers we have loved, and works we have especially cherished - at least between Stefan Karpe, Sienna's English godfather Roger Rowe and myself when we sat together for the meal. Liz must have got fed up in more senses than one but she had many other guests to talk with.
Above all, I will remember the warmth and friendliness of Annie and Tono who found time for us even though they were working all hours to prepare for the party. I was more than sympathetic to that special Spanish attitude to time that flows around them and is only occasionally interrupted by sitting down to eat, to talk and to enjoy company. After it was all over I asked a tired Tono:"Did you enjoy the party or did you just enjoy our enjoyment of it?" He smiled and replied: "I enjoyed it. Of course."
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Finally, there'll be a large, reserved space in our memoirs for the hours we spent with Sanna Stellan who suggested after our trip to Soller that many people must have thought she was our daughter. When you see the photograph below of her with Liz at Port de Soller, you can see her point.
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An afternoon of playtime for all . . .
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Through a glass lightly. Above Sienna tries to make closer contact with cousin Sofia and below, the only picture I could find that includes Jenny (she must have been busy most of the time!)
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Sienna is clearly delighted to have Dad around again.
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Proud abuelo Mike holds Sienna carefully after she crawled off her play mat
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Stefan Karpe checks the place settings for the 60th/30th birthday dinner
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Liz makes an expressive point to musician Eva Karpe before the party.
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Tono and Annie enjoy the party, amost as much as Christel Dertell on the left. Tono's brother Juan (wearing glasses) is opposite Tono.
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More guests include Jenny's sister Jessica and her husband Jose on left of table, with Liz looking thoughtful. Roger Rowe sits opposite her.
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(Sorry about the red eye in pictures taken with flash)
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The day after the night before . . .
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Half the party waits for coffee or soft drinks at Port de Pollenca. From the left are Jose and Jessica, Johan Dertell, Tono Vila with Alvar on his lap and,
almost hidden in the chair, Sofia.
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The other half (with overlap) : Tono and Alvar, Annie, Christel Dertell and daughter Rebecca, Liz and Hans Dertell. The waiter is about to arrive.
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I have now received a batch of photographs from Sanna and Jenny which fill in some of the gaps in my coverage above. They can be seen on More From Mallorca a new page which will also include any other photographs which are sent to us by our new friends from Mallorca.
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