The retreat is located about 30 minutes outside of Palma near the small town of Porreres. It’s a large self-contained facility with expansive well maintained gardens and it’s own shala. The perimeter has a 6 foot monitored security fence with electronic gates but you’re not locked in here, each person is given their own security code and you’re free to come and go as you like.
By the time the majority of the group arrived, I had already planned my first escape. Lots of villages in Spain have a chapel, church, hermitage or monastery located on a high point on the outskirts of the town. Porreres has a 15th century monastery on a hilltop that’s said to offer beautiful views of the town and the surrounding countryside. I determined I would advance to that monestary when retreating became too much for me.
By 7 o’clock most of the other guests had arrived. Kino and Tim welcomed everyone, outlined the weeks schedule and activities and we had a nice dinner.
It’s a really nice group of people from all over Europe including a few other Americans. I was surprised and really happy to see Monica a yoga friend from Miami and her husband. I met Monica several years back at one of the first workshops I attended at the old Miami Life Center on South Beach.
It’s really such a small world at times. Monica and Samuel are from Mexico City. Monica used to take exercise classes with Ana my yoga teacher before Ana started Ashtanga and they know many of my cousins in Mexico.
Just after the presentation, an American woman named Carolyn from Berkeley, here with her husband and child, introduced herself telling me that she recognized my voice from zoom yoga classes we had taken during Covid. I recognized her too but not her voice.
And then an English woman named Lucinda who’s here with her husband and child, introduced herself telling me the same thing. I recognized her and her lovely British accent. I guess I either have a distinctive voice or talk too much? Well I know I talk too much.
The gardens and grounds of this “retreat” are lovely and well maintained and the food is really good but I’ve never been to one of these places before so I’m not the best judge.
Rather than offer my own uneducated assessment about what a “retreat” should or shouldn’t be, I’m just attaching a bunch of photos so you guys can judge for yourselves.
Of course everyone headed off to their cells, or sleeping quarters or rooms, if you will, right after dinner. Mine’s quite comfortable and I slept well, really well but was up with the roosters and decided there was no time like the present to head up to the Santuri de Nostra Senyora de Monti-Sion.
It’s a steep incline but only a couple of kilometers and there are these beautiful stations of the cross along the way that were erected in the late 1490’s.
The sunrise and far reaching views of the countryside were just spectacular.
As I was standing on the steps of the Monastery enjoying the view I heard some animated voices from around the side of the building. I thought it was the grounds crew and was surprised when I looked around the corner to see 5 people sitting at a picnic table with an open bottle of red wine.
As I approached them I noticed their hiking poles and backpacks. “Dios mío,” I exclaimed, “Será posible que ustedes, jóvenes, subieron hasta acá a pie?” (“Is it possible you young people came up here on foot?”) The guy with the gray hair responded emphatically and with a broad smile, “No soy joven. Acabo de cumplir 79 años,” he said and while pointing to his friends continued “esos chicos son los jóvenes!” (“I’m no youngster. I just celebrated my 79th birthday. These guys are the youngsters.”)
Seems that they have an informal walking club, usually it’s more of them, and once a month or so they pick a monastery, church or chapel located high near one of these towns and hike up to it to watch the sunrise. They were all in their 70’s from the nearby town of Porto Cristo and had started out a at 4 AM and had hiked 25 kilometers to be at this spot at this time.
He poured me a cup of red wine and insisted that I sample the bread, “es el mejor pan que hayas probado en su vida! Lo horneé yo mismo.” (“It’s the best bread you ever tasted! I made it myself.”)
I told them a bit about myself and that I had walked portions of the Camino de Santiago.
The elder of them told me that he had walked the Camino from France to Santiago and on to Finisterre, close to 1000 kilometers but not all at once. Many Spaniards will walk a few stages of the Camino when they have a long weekend or weeks vacation and return to the spot where they left off year after year until they complete their Camino.
They had all hiked the Ruta de Pedra en Sec and assured me that it was a wonderful hike with only a few sections that presented any real difficulty and that as long as I drank plenty of water I would do fine.
The guy then sliced two thick slices of his bread, made me a sandwich for the road, poured me another cup of wine and we had a nice toast.
As I began my descent, sandwich in hand, red wine sloshing in my belly, I felt blessed by their acquaintanceship and less anxious about my upcoming hike of the Ruta de Pedra en Sec.
Is any life more rich or meaningful than the one the 5 of them were living that morning, sitting at that picnic table watching the sunrise in the shadows of that ancient monastery? I don’t think so.
Half an hour later I was back at the entrance of the retreat, entered my code and rushed to my room to change into my yoga clothes for our first yoga class as the gates of the institution clanged shut behind me.
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What a treat to read this morning drinking my morning coffee! Beyond lovely!