Beatrix pottering: The pirate path

Water: check; suncream: check; hat: check; this time, we were better prepared for our walk. As it was a beautiful day, I'd chosen a coastal walk from our Sunflower guidebook (Walk 32). So the adventure started with a 50 minute drive around Palma and along the south coast. We had a small detour into S'Arenal, to have a look at its enormously long beach (it was very busy, with everything open, including the tourist tat shops). After that, by contrast, we drove along an almost entirely deserted road through the undeveloped Mallorcan countryside, with olive and almond groves either side behind long ribbons of thick stone wall, and the occasional cyclist for company.

Cala Pi was a small, sleepy village with an imposing Torre (tower) on the headland, built in 1663 to ward off pirate attacks. It was clearly a popular summer spot but not much was happening on a January day. We parked up and found our way to the start of the walk: wide stone steps down to the beach. And there below was another one of Mallorca's stunning bays: a long, slender, cliff-edged inlet, with the most beautiful turquoise water.

Trusting our guidebook, we walked across the beach, as instructed, to the little fishermen's boat huts, where apparently we would find some steps up the cliff. Looking at the seemingly sheer cliff wall, this seemed unlikely; but sure enough, hidden behind the last hut were some concrete steps that led up to steps carved in the cliff face. Up we scrambled, higher and higher, emerging at the top to the most glorious view: green Mallorcan countryside surrounding us, dotted with tiny purple flowers on the wild rosemary; turquoise water below; and in between, orange and brown cliffs, carved into craggy shapes by the wind and water.

We followed the walk route along the cliff edge, skirting perilously close in places, being extremely careful as the book suggested. More amazing views followed as we walked up the inlet to the sea, especially of the Torre opposite. Then the path followed the coast around to the right, across the flat cliff top, winding between wild olive bushes and tumbledown stone walls (we couldn't work out what they were for - they had been high, but didn't seem to be protecting or acting as a boundary for anything).

Then finally we reached the little stone cairn that indicated our destination had been reached below: Cala Beltrán, apparently the sixteenth century hiding place of the feared Turkish pirate Red Beard. Kevin led the way downwards following a barely visible track leading from the cliff top. We couldn't see ahead due to the thick vegetation, but Kevin kept pressing on, and eventually we emerged at a tiny rocky beach at the end of an even smaller, windier inlet than Cala Pi, surrounded by high cliff walls, with the sea crashing down the narrow gap. (We had a good division of labour: I chose the walk, Kevin read the map and led the way; and I packed the bag, and Kevin carried it.) After a brief stop, we found a more direct but more strenuous way back up to the clifftop path, and wandered back the way we'd come.

The journey down the cliff steps was slightly more harrowing than the way up, but we made it; and then walked back across the beach, up the steps, and through the village to the Torre. We could see the cliff we'd just been walking on, as well as the craggy south coast of Mallorca glowing in the afternoon sun. Then back to the car, and home through the Mallorcan plains to Chameli's and a delicious butter bean and prawn stew for me, and chicken escalope for Kevin.

After we'd collected Jemima, I fed her, then snuck off to the bedroom as I was overcome by a need to sleep - I think the combination of the stew, the sea air and all the exercise did me in. Jemima and Kevin had a lovely time playing until I woke up in time to bath her and put her to bed. Then back to bed again for me - run number two tomorrow. We are definitely making the most of the Mallorcan outdoors - it's just lovely.