Beatrix pottering: Underground, overground

How to entertain kids in Mallorca on a rainy day? That was our Google search on Saturday morning: Jemima woke up sunny; the weather did not, with proper rain for the first time. So we decided to retreat underground, to the Caves of Drach.

For someone who isn't keen on confined spaces, weirdly I rather like a cave (as long as it's not a small one - no hardcore spelunking thank you very much). And Jemima also seemed keen - she enjoyed the one we visited in Australia. And as it turned out, this was a great cave.

First we had a rainy drive across the middle of Mallorca, through windmill-sprinkled fields, more almond blossom froth starting on the trees, and little lambs running about - all very spring-like, apart from the weather. I've (voluntarily) vacated my front seat for Jemima on the weekends - she loves giving directions (basically repeating the sat nav), and has started to "help" Daddy change gear (with her hand under his on the gear stick). They have a lovely time together; and, despite my relegation, it is actually quite peaceful in the back.

After an hour we arrived in Porto Cristo, a little town on the east coast with a small marina, a nice looking beach, and a front of touristy restaurants, all of which were closed, bar one. (It turns out off-season Mallorca looks a lot more desolate in the rain.) After a fruitless search for something more appealing, we resorted to that one open place, and had an indifferent, expensive lunch (twice the cost of Chameli's menú, to which everything is now compared). But then it was time for the caves.

The entrance was not far, just outside town. We lined up for our tour's entrance time with about 40 others, then went down the steps into the earth. The heat hit you first - it was noticeably warmer in there, and Kevin's glasses steamed up. And then we saw inside: a walkway through a cavern of beautifully lit stalactites and stalagmites, looking like frozen water with soft ripples and curves to them. Some were thick pillars; others clumped together to look like organ pipes; and the roof was completely covered with a fringing of baby stalactites, like a spiky ceiling.

The path led continuously down, and every bend took us into another open cavern with more to see, including gaps where icy blue water could be seen far below, as transparent and still as glass. And then the highlight for Jemima: we overtook a six year old German girl called Finilla, who was as keen on Jemima as she was on her. For the rest of the tour they travelled together, holding hands and commenting on what they saw around them (despite not really having a word in common).

Our final destination was a big open chamber, with an expanse of underground lake winding through it - one of the largest in the world apparently, 115m long and up to 12m deep. We sat on benches in stepped rows (our 40 people filled up barely a quarter of the spaces - goodness knows what it must be like at peak season). And then from around the bend, three rowing boats appeared with lights along their edge reflecting ethereally in the water. As they got closer, musicians in the first boat (a violin, a viola and a cello, plus - slightly incongruously in a boat - a piano) started playing something classical and vaguely familiar. The three boats rowed to one end of the chamber and back, playing beautifully; then the musicians rowed away, and we all had a go on the boats.

Jemima and Finilla sat in the front with Kevin, while myself and Finilla's parents were in the row behind. To be honest, it was pretty short; but still very atmospheric to be floating on that amazing water so deep underground. After the boat ride, it was many steps back up to the surface; big hugs goodbye to Finilla; and then back home for fajitas before bed, and hopefully better weather tomorrow.

Sunday dawned much brighter, thankfully. Jemima and I had our usual Sunday morning of homework, phonics and games, plus FaceTime to say happy birthday to Granny; then Kevin led us out to find a children's playground for our day's diversion. There was a bit of driving around some rather less attractive bits of Palma before we discovered what we were looking for; then we found a space for the car, and headed into the park.

An English park this was not - there are very few places that can rival our city parks (although the one in Christchurch, NZ is pretty amazing). But there were people out enjoying their Sunday; it had a scooting surface for Jemima; and as we got further in, we found the playground - a huge castle-esque structure, full of kids, with a café nearby for Kevin and I.

After a coffee and a play, it was time to eat. Kevin and I suffered a slight marital disagreement, so we went home for lunch and to re-group. Then, after a quiet interlude, with the sun still out, we all went down to the marina for an early dinner.

Back to Wellies, and a lovely table in the sun with a view of the boats - it really is hard to beat. Some games (Jemima is now playing our old favourite Ants in Your Pants in Spanish); some good food; a nice glass of wine; and lots of scooting up and down the marina in the early evening sun. Then home, with Jemima not too exhausted and ready for another week at school. The time is going so quickly - next week it will be a month since we arrived. But thankfully, there's still a bit more time to come.