With her signature wit and wanderlust, Jess Baldwin uncovers the captivating charm of Palma and Portixol — proving these so-called “gateways” are destinations worth lingering in…
Ah, the good old gateway destination. Many of the world’s finest towns and cities are saddled with this seemingly flattering label — the kind that sparkles at first glance but quietly suggests you shouldn’t linger too long. After all, by definition, a gateway is something you pass through, en route to bigger, better things. Whether it’s a grand, gilded gate opening onto a sumptuous, chandelier-draped country estate or a humble, rickety picket leading to an Aga-warmed, beam-adorned, cute-as-a-button cottage. Either way, the ‘gateway’ is not the destination, but the mere portal through which one must pass.
Palma street (photo by Felix, courtesy of Unsplash)
As the official ‘gateway to Mallorca’, Palma knows this fate all too well. While it’s a popular pit stop for Mediterranean cruisers, it often slips under the radar of those arriving by air. Travellers hit the tarmac, dive into a cab and vanish into the distance before Palma’s labyrinthine old town or spectacular, salt-slapped cathedral get so much as a chance to win them over. Blink, and this enchanting city becomes nothing more than a hazy hump in the rear-view mirror.
But, if Palma’s higgledy-piggledy streets, tightly packed with pinch-me pretty, pearl-packed shops, garlanded in dried chillis and heavy with handwoven bags aren’t luring them, where on earth is?
Unsurprisingly, the island’s sugar-sand beaches and lapis-bright coves prove catnip for fly-and-floppers, while more intrepid travellers burrow into Mallorca’s UNESCO-listed mountains, richly studded with ghostly snow houses and the forgotten haunts of charcoal burners. Amid the Serra de Tramuntana’s olive, oak and almond trees hide perfectly picked villages, like lofty Deià — a siren call for well-heeled, artsy types with an undeniable whiff of Ravello about it.
Meanwhile, the bucket-list brigade zigzag the island with dizzying enthusiasm: spelunking through stalactite-strung caves, sailing to hashtag-worthy shores and scrambling along treacherous tracks in pursuit of the ultimate Mallorquin money shot. As for the party animals, six decades on, they’re still tumbling into Magaluf. I shan’t delve into their brazen bucket lists; after all, what happens in Magaluf stays in Magaluf, thankfully.
Palma’s Paseo Milla Oro (photo courtesy of VisitPalma)
Yet here’s the quiet truth — the bit they never tell you as they hustle you onwards: Palma is no mere gateway. Sun-drenched, beach-fringed and awash with medieval charm, Palma has everything you need for an incredible city break. With endless galleries, museums and monuments to discover – not to mention a bourgeoning fine food scene – it’s as though it’s hiding in plain sight all along. And with new laws raising the bar on accommodation, there’s never been a better time for discerning travellers to indulge in this luxe Mediterranean escape.
Forn des Teatre, Pama (photo courtesy of VisitPalma)
A breezy two-hour hop from London deposits you just five miles from the shoulder-scraping, manure-speckled streets of Palma’s bewitching medieval old town. Slip through its honey-hued city walls into a jumble of grand mansions, ornate gardens, and royal palaces, where horses and fairytale carriages still lord it over the cobbles, trotting past citrus-shaded courtyards and biscuit-selling convents like a marvellous medieval merry-go-round. Presiding over it all is La Seu: one of the world’s greatest cathedrals, so vast and unmissable it becomes your built-in compass — leaving you free to follow your nose around Palma’s streets, confident that a quick glance skyward at its sea-whipped spires will guide you gently home.
Though, following your nose around this city can be perilous for both waistline and wallet. After taking in the cathedral’s world-famous rose window, glittering with more than a thousand shards of stained glass – not to mention Gaudí’s finishing touches— I serpentine my way into the Moorish old town, soon stumbling upon Palma’s oldest café, Joan de S’Aigo. Founded in the 18th century, this sugar-laden lair, crowned with glinting chandeliers, maintains a constant flow of well-healed Mallorquins clutching enormous, ribbon-tied boxes of ensaïmada; the island’s delicately coiled, deliciously dusty pastries. And then there’s the hot chocolate: the richest (and quite possibly the best value) in the city, so decadently dense your spoon stands bolt upright, obediently anchored in molten cocoa.
In truth, it’s almost impossible to wander the old town without something sweet luring you. Even the Santa Clara convent tempts, its resident nuns keeping up the saccharine tradition of selling their homebaked biscuits through a mysterious holy hatch, much to the delight of gaggles of camera-clutching tourists, white knuckled with fistfuls of euros – a small price to see a real-life nun, it seems. I took my holy haul around the corner, to the 10th century Arab Baths, home to one of Palma’s prettiest secret gardens.
Those craving something more savoury (and a little less ecclesiastical) can make their own pilgrimage to Mercat de l’Olivar, Mallorca’s largest fresh-food market, where mouthwatering stalls offer everything from cava to caviar. With La Seu as my trusty compass, I carried my still-steaming paella to Palma’s favourite picnic spot: Parc de la Mar. Its shimmering turquoise lake and swaying palms were a sunny reminder that, despite Christmas looming, this seaside city was still luxuriating in one of its 300 days of annual sunshine.
Whilst the city centre houses some wonderful hotels, one of the area’s most cherished boutique boltholes can be found in peaceful, pocket-sized Portixol, just a sandy stroll from the cathedral. Once a humble fishing village, this yachtie enclave has quietly shapeshifted into a chic little outpost of Palma — a gentrified seaside hideaway known for its golden beach and first-rate seafood. After half an hour strolling the sand-dusted promenade, I reached Portixol’s dinky harbour: a cluster of glossy vessels nodding in unison beneath the handsome Portixol Hotel, as though offering their collective approval.
A burly 1950s landmark, Portixol’s eponymous hotel rules the harbour with the same quiet authority that La Seu exerts over Palma, watching the comings and goings like a benevolent captain. Though here, stained glass gives way to smart blue shutters – and the occasional porthole – and flying buttresses are replaced by a sumptuous penthouse suite, crowned with a rooftop terrace that feels more yacht deck than city rooftop.
In fact, the whole hotel feels like a wonderfully decadent ode to the ocean, an in-the-know boutique bolthole marrying nautical nods with Skandi-cool. Whilst those looking to collapse can hit the small but perfectly formed spa, travellers seeking a little adventure can hop aboard the hotel’s electric llaut – the luxurious traditional Mallorquin fishing boat boasts everything from paddleboards to its own electric underwater scooter!
Back at base, the swimming pool could have been lifted straight from an ocean liner, hugged by a horseshoe of neat loungers, nautical cushions perched atop each one, the pool is set so close to the Med that on choppy days I swear its half saltwater.
At sunset, those curled up poolside with a cava are treated to quite the show, the Med shimmering, reflecting back the fiery sky as petal-pink clouds drift through blood-red swathes. Offshore, silhouetted fishermen prance across the semi-submerged rocks with unexpected balletic flair.
The show continues inside – thanks to the restaurant’s spectacular sea views, early-bird diners can witness the inky darkness bed in as a steady stream of caviar, oysters and exquisitely presented seafood drifts past. As we devoured our perfectly crispy croquetas and succulent, just seared tuna, clinking glasses in salute of a fabulous stay, talk inevitably turned to departure plans. With an early flight to catch, there would be no more chilli garlanded, pearl-packed shops for me, for come breakfast, Portixol would be little more than a hazy hump in my rear-view mirror.
My travel companion, on the other hand, had another day ahead of her – one which she fully intended on spending poolside. You see, despite its ease and proximity, Portixol is no mere gateway to Palma. Sun-drenched, beach-fringed and awash with nautical charm, Portixol is one gateway neither of us were in a hurry to pass through.
Portixol Hotel is just a short walk from central Palma. For more information or to book, visit www.portixol.com.
Palma has been recognised by Lonely Planet as one of 2025’s Top 10 Cities to Visit, for more information about Palma, and to start planning your trip, please visit the official tourism website at www.visitpalma.com.
Header photo: Palma cathedral by Yves Alarie (courtesy of Unsplash)
