Capdepera

The castle gates creak open at 10 am, revealing stone steps worn smooth by seven centuries of footsteps. Above Capdepera, the fortress stands sentinel over Mallorca's eastern corner, its honey-coloured walls glowing amber in the morning light. This isn't another tourist trap with gift shops at every turn—it's a working village where locals still live within medieval walls, hanging washing from wrought-iron balconies and greeting neighbours in narrow lanes too tight for cars.

Stone and Shadow

Capdepera's old town demands proper footwear. The climb from Plaça de l'Orient to the castle takes fifteen minutes on calf-burning cobbles, past houses whose stone facades have turned silver-grey with age. Wednesday mornings bring extra life when the market spreads across the square—stalls heavy with local sobrassada sausage, bread still warm from village ovens, and oranges squeezed while you wait. The castle itself costs €3 to enter, a bargain for views that stretch clear to Menorca on sharp days. Inside the walls, the tiny Santuario de la Esperanza chapel holds Friday services that echo off medieval stone.

The Iglesia de Sant Bartomeu anchors the village centre, its Gothic bulk dominating a square where elderly residents occupy shaded benches from noon onwards. Unlike Mallorca's more polished towns, Capdepera's church square hasn't been sanitised for visitors—children kick footballs against ancient walls, and the bar opposite serves coffee strong enough to fuel the steep walk back to your car.

The Coast Calls

Three kilometres downhill, Cala Rajada shows Capdepera's relationship with the sea. What began as a fishing settlement now serves summer crowds, though it retains traces of its working past. Fishing boats still bob in the harbour, their owners mending nets at dawn before the beach crowds arrive. The lighthouse, reached via a breezy twenty-minute coastal walk, marks Mallorca's easternmost point—photographers gather for sunrise, wrapped against the wind that whips off the Mediterranean.

The village's beaches require strategy. Cala Agulla's white sand and pine-backed bay draw families from Palma, filling the small car park by 11 am in July. Cala Mesquida offers Caribbean-blue water but demands a 1.2-kilometre walk over rough ground—flip-flops won't cut it, and there's only one vendor selling fruit if you forget supplies. Cala Gat, smallest of the three, provides snorkelling when the sea behaves, though winter storms turn the water milky and obscure the posidonia meadows below.

Spring and autumn transform the coast. October brings warm seas without August's crowds—local swimmers call it the best month, when water temperature lingers at 22°C and beaches empty by 5 pm. May sees wildflowers burst across coastal paths, their colours matching the turquoise water below.

Walking the Line Between Past and Present

Coastal paths link the beaches, though signage ranges from helpful to non-existent. The Camí de Cala Gat traces the shoreline for three kilometres, passing natural rock pools that serve as private swimming spots for those willing to scramble down. Take water—shade disappears for long stretches, and mobile reception cuts out precisely when you need directions most.

Back in the village, medieval history isn't confined to the castle. The third weekend of May brings a proper medieval fair—not the tourist-heavy pageant you'll find elsewhere. Locals spend months crafting costumes, and the castle hosts jousting competitions where participants train year-round. Streets fill with the smell of roast pork and woodsmoke, while artisans demonstrate crafts unchanged since the fortress protected villagers from pirate raids.

Eating and Drinking

Capdepera's restaurants reflect its split personality—village authenticity meets coastal tourism. Andreu Genestra's Michelin-starred restaurant occupies a converted farmhouse outside town, offering tasting menus that explain Mallorcan ingredients to international visitors. The £85 menu includes wine pairings and accommodates vegetarians without fuss. For everyday eating, Café Can Patilla serves tapas on a terrace where staff happily translate dishes for British visitors—try the squid ink croquettes, black as midnight and twice as tasty.

L'Orient provides the safe option for cautious palates, its menú del día featuring roast chicken, chips and crème caramel for €12. The Wednesday market doubles as breakfast spot—fresh orange juice costs €2, and sobrassada on crusty bread satisfies until lunch. Pasta Pasta exists purely for children who've reached their limit on foreign food, though the owners source ingredients from Palma daily rather than falling back on frozen shortcuts.

Getting It Right

The village rewards early starts. Castle parking fits twenty cars—arrive after 11 am and you'll circle the streets, watching spaces fill with rental vehicles whose drivers misjudge the narrow lanes. The climb to the fortress before 10 am brings cooler temperatures and photographs uncluttered by tour groups. Bring water—the stone reflects heat, and shade remains scarce until afternoon.

Public transport reaches Capdepera from Palma twice daily, but buses don't connect the scattered coves. Hire a small car—giant SUVs struggle with medieval street widths and microscopic parking bays. The Ma-15 from Palma takes ninety minutes via Manacor; the Ma-4040's final stretch winds through almond groves that flower spectacularly in February.

July and August require tactical thinking. Beach visits start before 9 am or after 5 pm—the sun's strength in between isn't worth the risk, and parking becomes theoretical rather than practical. Spring visitors find village restaurants closed on random weekdays, but gain empty beaches and castle ramparts to themselves. October probably offers the sweet spot—warm seas, open businesses, and temperatures that make the uphill walk to the castle a pleasure rather than a penance.

Capdepera doesn't shout for attention. It simply continues being itself—a medieval village that happens to own some of Mallorca's best beaches, a place where castle walls shelter daily life rather than museum exhibits. Come prepared for hills, bring proper shoes, and accept that some restaurants close when they feel like it. The reward is experiencing a Spanish village that tourism hasn't quite tamed, where medieval stones still echo with real life rather than staged history.