From the adults-only Barcelo Hamilton hotel in Es Castell, it’s less than 15 minutes to the dock in Mahon. Along the way, houses once belonging to Admirals Nelson and Collingwood still gaze at each other across the water, dating back to the days when the British ruled the island.
Tracing the route of the old medieval walls, only a few towers now remaining, we discovered it’s not the only influence they’ve had, along a British history-themed walking route through the quiet streets.
Climbing from the sea to the hilltop centre, Modernist buildings with decorative glass sit between whitewashed houses and curving ‘boinder’ windows jutting out from the walls: the name derives from ‘bow window’, according to our guide Clara Garriga. Elsewhere, we spot the 18th century clock brought by island governor Richard Kane from London.
Now on the facade of the island’s City Hall, it was the first non solar-powered clock on Menorca. Another first hides around the corner, where the anonymous facade of the Teatro Principal theatre, Spain’s oldest opera house, conceals glittering chandeliers and renowned acoustics.
Almost every building holds a secret, it seems. In the art and history museum of Can’Oliver, once the house of an 18th century merchant, you still find the tower from which the original owner would have kept a watchful eye on ships approaching the harbour.
If my legs complained at the stairs up to the viewpoint, gazing across the red rooftops to the glimmer of blue sea on the horizon is worth a few aches.
Steps aside, Mahon is designed for strolling; flowers and fountains decorate the alleys, markets pop up at weekends, while the tapas restaurants of the fish market are always buzzing, catch of the day on ice at its stalls.
Or outside the old walls, Parc Es Freginal is still kept green by irrigation channels created a millennium ago under Moorish rule, one of many cultures which have left their mark from Phoenicians and Romans to Catalans.
Peaceful today, it’s hard to imagine that once 3,000 pirates camped here before attacking the city. Led by the infamous Barbarossa, they returned the following year to focus their attentions on Ciutadella — the fierce rivalry between Menorca’s two main cities is said to date from these 16th century attacks.
Battleships still moor in the waters here, one of the world’s largest natural harbours. Our own vessel is rather less intimidating than the Navy crafts, bristling with high-tech equipment, however.
A glass-bottomed Yellow Catamaran, it cruises the length of the three mile bay, past the evocatively named Bloody Island and Quarantine Island, where old hospitals once stood isolated in the sea. If you’re lucky, you can spot sharks although tiny pinkish jellyfish are the most lethal creatures around that day.
Back on the quayside, it’s tempting to stop in at the Xoriguer gin distillery but first, it’s time for wine. Bodegas Binifadet is 10 minutes from Es Castell, its 11 acres of vines producing highly sought-after vintages. Binifadet’s chardonnay was stocked at triple Michelin-starred restaurant El Bulli every year until the restaurant closed, while their limited edition sparkling white and rose sells out every year.
The biggest winery on the island, producing 92,000 bottles, it’s still small scale enough that grapes are picked by hand. After a tour of the vineyards and cellar, plus a tasting, we settled at one of the restaurant tables shaded by more vines to drink another glass or two, alongside bread dipped in Binifadet’s own olive oil, goat’s cheese and salmon marinated in gin.
The menu is created to match the previous year’s vintages, and there are plans to open a small hotel and spa, as well as growing more of Menorca’s ancestral vintages.
But as the sun sinks towards the horizon, there’s only one place to sit with a drink. The Cova d’en Xoroi bar on the cliffs of the south coast is more like a succession of pathways clinging to the rocks. A singer belts out rock and roll classics from inside a cave but it’s hard to compete with one of the best views in Spain as the sky glows golden and the waves burn deep red below the dark shadow of the headland.
If that’s easily the best sunset experience, the best sunrise is from the fifth floor Blue Sky rooftop bar in our own hotel, Barcelo Hamilton, one of the easternmost points in Spain.
Or so I’m assured. I repeatedly fail to drag myself out of my hugely comfortable bed — even onto my own seaview balcony — to take a look.
The daytime view, watching boats sail past under a cloudless blue sky from one of the Balinese beds (worth every cent of the 20 Euro day charge) or hot tubs isn’t a bad second.
I finally get that gin too, in a Pomada cocktail, the local favourite mixed with lemon squash plus a cinammon stick. Very refreshing, the huge fishbowl glasses are dangerously easy to drink.
A dip in one of the two pools is the perfect way to revive — the smaller covered one is also heated outside the summer months. I fit in a few lengths in the open-air pool to perk myself up before getting rid of the last vestiges of stress with a 25-minute golf ball massage in the hotel spa.
This particular treatment is an acquired taste; not dissimilar to a hot stone massage, it’s relaxing enough to send me almost to sleep. There are more traditional massages and facials on the list as well as themed treatments which come with a cocktail.
The whole pace of life makes it easy to slow down. Siestas seem a perfectly sensible way to spend the afternoon, followed by a stroll along the seafront down to nearby Calas Fonts, its seafront fish restaurants interspersed with boutiques and souvenir shops. Don’t miss dishes like tuna tataki with guacamole in the hotel’s a la carte restaurant Sa Cova either.
I soon regret travelling hand luggage only as we head north for more shopping. Pretty Fornells, with its old fishing harbour, is endlessly tempting; especially the groaning shelves of Es Celleret, with vacuum-packed cheese, ensaimada pastries, wine, oil, flavoured salt and more.
It’s the place to pick up traditional leather goods, straw bags (most with vibrant pompoms), floaty white cotton and espadrilles galore, from traditional styles to designer versions, such as Jaime Mascaro.
Even more tempting are the boats bobbing on the clear waters: 130 Euros for half a day’s hire, and dozens of beaches only accessible by sea (or a hike through northern Menorca’s forests).
My seven-year-old self would have approved of those priorities. If only I’d realised sooner how much more there was to discover.
Like this? Sign up for more with our JC Life newsletter https://www.thejc.com/subscribe
From fabulous recipes, to parenting tips; travel and West End entertainment; insightful interviews and much more: there’s more to the JC than news
