10 stories and counting. Filter by what moves you — the food, the light, the secret patios — or search by neighborhood.

Late autumn in Palma, the old town fills with enormous fallen leaves. We gather them by the armful and bring them home.
Once a year, the rose windows of La Seu align to paint an eight of color across the nave. We woke at four to watch it happen.
You hike forty minutes down a goat path on the Tramuntana coast. At the bottom, a man grills paella over orange wood while the sun falls into the sea.
A 1912 narrow-gauge railway carries you through tunnels carved by hand into the mountain. It ends in an orchard.
Es Trenc is famous. Its quieter end, where the dunes swallow the parking lot, is not. A field guide to the south coast.
The market that fed Palma's fishermen for a hundred and seventy years now feeds its chefs. Come hungry, come early.
The road to Cap de Formentor is the most beautiful drive in the Mediterranean. It is also, briefly, terrifying.
Palma's noble houses hide their lives behind heavy doors. Twice a year, those doors swing open.
In 1838, a sick composer and his scandalous lover rented cells in a former monastery. The piano arrived three months late.
Es Baluard built its galleries into the city's sixteenth-century fortifications. The art is good. The roof terrace is better.