Poemas del río Wang: tour

The other beautiful road arrives to Banyalbufar from the north, following the contours of the seashore. “Volta des General” or the Turn of the Governor is actually the name of the hairpin bend formed by the red asphalt road when it starts to descend from the mountains to the little town. It is also marked on the map to the right of the name of Banyalbufar. But as this turn is the point of departure – or arrival – of the seashore pathway commonly called Camí de Baix or Lower Road, thus this latter also inherited the name of Camí de la Volta des General, or simply Volta des General. This road is marked with small hachures on the map.

The “General” was the Marquis Ferran Cotoner i Chacón (1810-1888), a great son of Mallorca who, having fought through the Spanish civil wars of the 19th century, in 1847 became Governor of the Balearic Islands, and in 1863 that of the whole Catalonia. He was the owner of the manor house Sa Baronia in the center of Banyalbufar whose medieval well can be seen at the end of the previous post. Besides several other important historical deeds, he began to build the asphalt road leading towards Esporles which starts with the turn bearing his name, and the Lower Road leading to Port des Canonge was made a comfortable promenade by him as well.

Port des Canonge, that is the Port of the Canon – nobody knows which Canon, but this topic lends a perpetual motion to the literature of local history – consists of a fishing village of some dozens of inhabitants on the shore and a holiday suburb on the steeply rising mountain side. This suburb, as it is preserved in the local memory, was founded in the 60’s by a Hungarian engineer professor called Király. Király – Kirali, as it is pronounced there – was a veritable old style gentleman, an emigrant to the USA in 1945 who, having made a fortune on his several inventions, was the first person to buy a holiday estate here. And as a genuine engineer, he also laid the foundations of the infrastructure of the whole future holiday resort. Wang Wei still knew him and they often visited each other for a glass of Mallorcan wine. But when asked about Budapest, Kirali only told this much: Budapest has passed away.

The path goes on for several kilometers along the olive plantations of the estate of Son Bunyola, dating from Arabic times. Sheep are grazing between the olive trees. In the night their bells are the only voice to be heard together with the breathing of the sea.

The Baroque center of the estate unfolds itself to the eyes only when, turning to the right after

the Punta de s’Àguila or the Promontory of the Eagle we slowly leave behind Son Bunyola.

Wild goats are to be met everywhere on the island. They are not even peculiarly touched at the sight of people. Nevertheless, it is not easy to take a picture of them.

Not long after the Escull de Cavall, the Promontory of Horse Skull the characteristic terrace landscape of Banyalbufar begins.

Some kilometers to the west of Banyalbufar – I have improvidently cut it off the map – on a high promontory stands the

Torre de ses Ànimes, the Tower of the Souls. The Arabic pirates of Banyalbufar who became peasants kept watching from here for centuries the Arabic pirates nearing from the North African shores. A thousand year old olive tree, reinforced with a stone wall stands near to the tower, with an ancient colony of cats living around it. The quintessence of Mallorca.

for Gyuri

The Camí des Correu, the centuries long Post Road passes through the western mountain range of Mallorca, the Tramuntana Sierra, connecting Esporles which lays in a closed valley of the mountains with Banyalbufar which lays in a closed bay of the seashore.

The bizarre Bearn or A manor house in Mallorca by Llorenç Villalonga describes in relief how much locked up and solitary these Mallorcan villages can be. Banyalbufar, founded by 9th-century Arabic conquerors turned away from the sea, became peasant, and instead of sailing it is cultivating the terraces fixed on the slopes of the mountains. Esporles, founded by 13th-century Catalan conquerors, has a mountain stream running down towards Palma, but the villagers never follow it to where their ancestors came from. However, perhaps because even they cannot bear this extent of solitude, these two ends of the world connected at least each other with a mountain path which until the 20th century, when the red asphalt road was built in the valley, was daily covered there and back by a messenger with the post. It is the green route.

The steep path soon arrives from Esporles to Sa Granja – “the Manor.” After the Catalan conquest of 1229 this Arabic holding became a Cistercian monastery and later a nobleman’s estate what it has remained to the present day. Its Arabic origins, however, are clearly indicated by its principal spectacle, applied in Arabic architecture both in Mallorca and in other regions whenever it can do: the water. In front of the manor house, the spring water led down from the mountains springs ten meters high. Just like in Isfahan where a similar water-jet springs up from the middle of the river, thus boasting with the supreme treasure of the town which some kilometers later is lost in the desert.

The Manor is still functioning. A part of it has been opened to visitors, and you are encouraged to watch it in a short film here. Although wild goats abound in the island, nevertheless these ones below belong to the manor.

The road climbs steeply uphill: four hundred meters of level difference on ten kilometers, up, and then down. Two and half hours, comfortably three. But at the end you also have to walk back, because the autobus from Banyalbufar is unpredictable. And the way is even steeper from that direction, climbing up from the sea. And for a good while there is no shadow, at least until you reach the forest after the terraces.

The dichotomy of the Communist regime in my native Hungary included that while we went on excursions quite a lot of times both at home and in the neighboring Socialist countries, we never thought of doing the same in the West. We were allowed to go out there for two weeks in every three year, and could only officially change a hundred German marks (a little less than eighty dollars) for our costs. So this few time and money we reserved for big cities, museums and books, and never for mountains. Although since the change of regime at the end of the 1980’s we have made a lot of excursions in the West too, nevertheless until today I feel it a great luxury there what in the East is just as natural as water.

The road is flanked by old lime-kilns. A short Catalan summary on Mallorcan lime-burning can be found here. Even the picture of this former lime-kiln is included.

The road is sometimes made more difficult by such walls of dry masonry – a Mallorcan speciality – for holding back the cattle. Nevertheless the ladder is put there for the postman.

As we approach the Son Sanutges peak, the horizont slowly opens up. That solitary rock in the sea is also seen by the small lime tree.

As the road begins to descend, we catch sight of the first terraces of Banyalbufar. The system of these terraces and of the water reservoirs and channels encompassing them were built by the Arabs during several centuries. A great part of them are in use even today.