In Alcudia, a port town on the Spanish island of Mallorca, Beth and I dodged between shadows and awnings along the narrow stone streets to shield ourselves from the sun. The temperature neared ninety. Mallorquins have been taking steps to cope with hot weather since 1507. That year, the townspeople experienced their version of climate change. Long periods of drought struck the region. Crops didn’t grow. The townspeople starved.
Taking action, they removed from the Church of San Jaume a statue of Jesus Christ nailed to the cross and carried him to the Cave of Saint Martin where they pled for rain. Soon, Christ sweat blood and water. Shortly thereafter, the skies delivered rain, making for an abundant harvest. Seeing this miracle, residents became even more pious. They began a tradition of lugging Jesus on the cross past the dense medieval walls built in the 1300s and through the town square to demonstrate their piety and beg for repentance, forgiveness, and mercy. Nowadays, every three years, on July 26, the locals repeat this tradition beginning with a mass followed by a procession.
In Beth’s and my search to quench our thirst, we wandered off the town’s principal passages filled with trinket and souvenir shops to find the only vegan and vegetarian restaurant, Verdeteja. This place is taking its own measures to minimize climate change. The owners use only sustainably grown local ingredients. Every day, the bakers make one hundred percent whole grain bread with flour from a nearby mill. Its crunchy crust supported the weight of the tomato and goat cheese piled on my tostada (toast). I savored the best bread I’ve had on the trip in a country laden with ham and/or cheese bocadillos (sandwiches) made with white flour. We consumed a salad of mesclun, tomatoes, avocado, cucumbers, grated carrot, sliced mango and oranges, radishes, and seeds. The chef threw in a few olives for good measure.
Carrying Christ through town and growing and eating eco-friendly foods doesn’t diminish climate change much but every effort helps. Mallorca, like much of Spain, faces a water shortage. The island’s government has stepped up measures to prevent a crisis. The town council in mountainous Valldemossa banned residents from filling their swimming pools and watering their lawns. Locals confront limits on the amount of drinking water they can buy. Even the town’s rich and famous must comply. Hollywood actors and couple, Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta-Jones, have to cut down water consumption in their $3.5 million, 11,000 square foot, ten-bedroom mansion on the outskirts of town.
A water shortage in 1995 in Mallorca, in which the government had to ship water from the mainland, propelled the island to build three water desalination plants; one is located in Alcudia and another in Palma, the capital. The plant funnels water to the towns linked to its distribution system of 35 kms (nearly 22 miles) of pipes, two water tanks, and pumping stations. Two reservoirs in the mountains also feed Alcudia’s need for water.
In Mallorca, the production of desalinated water has increased fivefold in the last ten years. Among the four Balearic Islands, of which Mallorca is one, there are eight desalination plants.
Beth and I braved the sun to walk to the edge of town to see the Roman ruins. When Romans conquered the island in 123 BC, they deployed water conservation measures. They installed a supply system for potable water and another for sewage. These features no longer form part of the city’s ruins but we did see traces of the forum and the theater’s orchestra, stage, and seating sections.
Hot and sticky, we hopped on the bus to the port of Alcudia to check out the source of this precious resource that would be channeled toward the desalination plant. A swim confirmed the water was salty, undrinkable, and clear enough to see the sandy floor.
After the bus ride back to Palma, we didn’t want to trek to the one open vegetarian restaurant in the city where we ate lunch the first day so we sauntered to Can Piar, an Italian eatery. We shared the place with a foreign couple and a German woman. It was 8:00, too early for Spaniards to dine. The large stone fireplace with a metal hinged door surrounded by tile caught our eye as we sat down. The German hostess and Spanish cook told us this place housed the first bakery in Palma. It dated to the 16th century.
To toast our trip, Beth ordered Pinot Grigio. Too acidy. Why drink Italian wine in Spain? She then followed my lead and asked for albariño. I enjoyed pasta with pesto and salata ricotta (maybe that’s where some of the salt from desalination ends up) and Beth dug into risotto with spinach and prawns. Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald, and Sarah Vaughan crooned in the background.
When we left at 9:30, still early for Spanish diners, the hostess locked the doors behind us. She didn’t expect any more customers. She explained many people were watching the final game of the Champions Football League between Spain’s Real Madrid and Germany’s Borussia Dortmund. Even that’s more important than a night out. (Real Madrid won.)
We drank more water than wine on our trip perhaps not in keeping with Mallorca’s water conservation measures. Having grown up in northern California during a seven-year drought, Beth and I are accustomed to restrictions and reusing and recycling this vital resource. As girls, we didn’t carry Christ through the streets or pray but we did change forever our daily habits of using water. It’s no hardship to do my two bits to conserve water at home and hopefully beyond. Even if it means drinking more wine.
The vegan and whole grain options in España put us to utter shame here in Arlington, Virginia. I was in heaven our entire visit to Spain with easy access to vegan cafes and high-end, creative eateries in three separate cities and even on the trains. It just makes sense that, more and more, we will have access to such delicious food with more ease and abundance. The animals and the planet (and our species, too!) all deserve a break. I love reading about your adventures and observations. Enjoy the feast, dear friend!
I loved this! And once again you slipped that history into a fascinating account of early water conservation efforts. I guess praying never goes out of fashion for many, and it obviously worked to begin with. I'm glad you helped Beth discover the local white wine of choice, and I will always be thankful for that recommendation from you. Most importantly, I am so glad you did the hard journalists work of confirming the sea water is clear and salty. As well as sampling the local cuisine, including the water. Great story; thanks!