The magic of Mallorca: An unexplored heaven tucked away in Spain

I slept for 12 hours the first night I was in Mallorca. The soft breeze that filtered through the linen drapes soothed my tired eyes, the smooth sheets enveloped my body, and the rising sun gently warmed my skin. At some point, my husband must have got up to help our two daughters with breakfast, but I slumbered on. When I woke to their distant murmuring downstairs, I felt suffused with calm. Already, the holiday had been worth it.

We were staying in Puesta del Sol, one of the Mandarin Oriental’s newly launched private villas. The villa—aptly named after the Spanish for sunset, given its panoramic views—is on the west coast of Mallorca, perched high on the cliffs, and its design makes the most of the extraordinary setting. Each room: the five bedrooms, the lounge space, the bathrooms, even the sauna and the gym, had floor-to-ceiling windows, through which we would see the glorious arc of the sun making its way across the horizon.  

With two young children, I find a villa is more relaxing than a hotel, offering both privacy and space without the worry of disturbing other guests. But here, there were still all the touches the hotel group is known for: laundry, concierge, slippers by the bed, a turndown service. Indeed, the attention began long before we had ever arrived: I’d been asked to send our interests, preferences and particulars to Ilka, the villa manager. On arrival, activity books, felt-tip pens and bracelet-making kits had been set out for my daughters, Darcy and Margot. There were inflatables in the pool, and a generous spread of tapas and pintxos on the table: Spanish tortilla and gleaming gildasan—chovies, guindilla peppers and olives speared with cocktail sticks—served with a bottle of sparkling wine on ice. This was courtesy of our private chef Acis, who cooked for us for two days. Later that night, he prepared plump Galician clams in white wine and garlic, and beautiful monkfish in a sunsetred almond sauce, followed by Basque cheesecake. On another evening, we had glistening slices of tuna from Cádiz, lightly dressed with passion-fruit and a spritz of lime, and quenelles of piping hot falafel, crisp to bite and cloudlike on the inside. 

By day, we were drawn to the long terrace, where we lounged by the pool and the hot tub, as it was an uncommonly warm autumn on the island. The housekeeper, Rosa, who looked after us during the day, would set up a lovely breakfast of pastries, eggs to order, fresh orange juice and smoothies while we watched white sails move across the water through the hazy mist that cleared as the sun grew hot. Swallows dipped and dived around us, skimming the perfect glassy surface of the pool, which appeared to drop down the sheer cliff edge. At nightfall, the coastline of Ibiza became visible over the water, while the lighthouses on the tip of each headland winked at each other. On the far north, we could see a clutch of supervillas that we were told belonged to Michael Douglas and Bill Gates. There was hardly a car headlight to be seen, nor a sound to be heard.

It’s easy to see why the island, the largest of the Balearics, has attracted so many cultural figures over the years – from George Sand and Frédéric Chopin to Robert Graves, who lived here and wrote about residing in Deià on the northern coast for Bazaar in 1955. ‘I found everything I needed as a background to my work as a writer: sun, sea, mountains, spring water, shady trees, no politics and a few civilised luxuries such as electric light and a bus service to Palma,’ he declared.

Oh, to have had the time and space for such leisure! But we spent a happy afternoon in Palma (40 minutes’ drive from the villa), the capital of the surrounding islands. We pottered in the arteries of the town, visiting the oldest toy shop in the city, which stands next to La Pajarita Bombonería—a traditional sweet shop with windows filled with Florentines and treats in shiny wrappers. We took in the Basílica de Santa María de Mallorca, the hefty Gothic-Roman cathedral, and the Palacio Real de la Almudaina, a Spanish royal residence. On Ilka’s advice, we lunched at Fera, a restaurant with tables set in a lush garden of ferns. The five-course meal was a dance of exquisite flavours: tender sea-bass with seaweed and clams, melting beef fillet with shiitake mushrooms, witty desserts of shiso leaf with yuzu, while the children had roasted apple ice-cream.  

On our penultimate day, we took a short taxi ride to Port Andratx – once a fishing village, and now filled with cafés, restaurants and a few art galleries, the waterfront and marina lined with chichi yachts. Though it was late morning, the village was only just waking up as the well-heeled crowd sipped on orange juice and the occasional beer. We picked up fresh prawns from the market, which we cooked ourselves for our final candlelit dinner at the villa, washed down with a cabernet sauvignon from the cellar.

Reflecting on the five days, we realised we’d had the best of both worlds – space to do as we pleased and the ultimate in bespoke service, in what was the perfect dream of peace and contentment. Villa Puesta del Sol in Mallorca, Mandarin Oriental Exclusive Homes (www.mandarinoriental.com/en/exclusive-homes), sleeps up to 12 people.

(Prices start from about approx ₹4,83,000 a night or ₹33,83,000 a week.)

This piece originally appeared in the April 2023 print edition of Harper's Bazaar UK