A Shop in the Dark

The Isle of Mallorca. Playground of the super wealthy. Sparkling jewel of Spain's islands.

And totally dark.

When we went ashore at Palma de Mallorca, almost all of the island was without electricity. The place is really beautiful; the harbor has so many yachts it makes Monte Carlo look downscale; and the shopping area is quite impressive. Well, I made that last assumption from the outside, because there were no lights on inside most of the stores.

Leaving the ship, we had encountered a taxi driver who told us no shops would be open because it was siesta time, but he could gladly fill up our afternoon for us by giving us a tour for 100 euros.

We told him to take a nap and hopped in another taxi that was happy to take us to the shopping district for about 8 euros. Not only were most of the stores not into siesta, many of them were staying open even though they had no electricity. Some even found customers willing to swap cash for what they could barely see.

A couple of posts ago, someone whom I love dearly complained that I was writing about her and letting people know things that she said or did that weren't meant to be made public. I believe she felt this way partly because that is precisely what was happening, but also because my friend Jon had dropped me an e-mail telling me how funny the stuff about her was and she had read it when I forgot to delete it.

Needless to say, I readly agreed with her complaints. And because I would never do anything to hurt her feelings, I won't write about what she says or does anymore.

That out of the way, today in Mallorca I observed a woman who entered a pitch dark store that had Mallorcan pearls in the front window display case. (Apparently these pearls are specialties of the island. Some might even call them local accessories.) Soon this woman and the clerk were squatting near the front door in order to get enough sunlight so she could view a strand of the pearls. Satisfied, this woman then faced the challenge of paying for something when the credit card link isn't live. Obviously not one to be daunted, she found just enough cash and the deal was completed.

I stopped my observations before all the paperwork was done on that transaction, and I started backtracking because I realized I had lost the card the ship issues you in order to get back on board. The card is shaped like - and looks exactly like - a credit card, so I figured it hadn't remained on the ground for long once I dropped it. Anyhow, I never found it.

I assumed this wouldn't be a big deal, though. After all, people must lose their cards all the time. Just think of all the pickpockets running around the various tourist spots in Italy alone. When we got back to the ship, it turned out to be absolutely no big deal.

I told the guy at the gangplank that I had lost my card. He asked our room number and my name, typed it into their system and a photo ID they had taken on the first day popped up on his screen. He smiled a little and said, "You're OK. You can go in."

I said to him, "There really isn't anyone else who looks like me, is there?"

"No, Mr Kennedy, there isn't," he replied.

This is our last night of the cruise. Tomorrow morning we disembark in Barcelona and overnight there before catching our flights home. Mallorca, adios - and a few pictures here. One last post from Barcelona manana.