by Sean James

>>  It was a Friday afternoon and one of the many Bank Holidays in May of 2000 and 3 lads from a post-industrial city in the north of England had just fought their way down the M1 and found themselves standing in a long queue of travellers, bathed in the orange glare of Luton airport.

>>  We had been lured here by the prospect of cheap flights, all-night raves, drunken orgies involving lots of foam, beaches full of naked, brown flesh and of course the Rockfax that proclaims every route is a classic, deserves its 3 stars and must be climbed.

>>  We were in fact off to the Spanish island of Mallorca for 16 days of climbing in the sun.

>>  Our group clashed conspicuously with the rest of the crowd at the check-in desk. Looking around the half-finished airport, we were surrounded by a large number of "empty-nesters" all dressed in their recently ironed lightweight, M&S summer outfits.  We, on the other hand were accompanied by tatty rucksacks and rope bags.   It had been our good fortune that Stelios, President of Easyjet had climbers in mind as his target customer group when he was considering the destinations for his planes.   However this weekend, thanks to the Internet, cheap travel had been brought to the masses and not just us independent, free-spirited travellers.

>>  Ironically we had chosen Mallorca, the original package destination, for our trip and took pride in the fact that we had arranged everything ourselves; the cheap airline tickets had not been particularly cheap (£160 return); the accommodation we finally found, had taken the combined efforts of 3 people, nearly 4 weeks of trawling websites using different combinations of "Mallorca, accommodation, apartments" as search words plus endless faxes and phone calls to Spain; and the prices of car hire all seemed to be the same.
But we had retained our sense of independence and probably saved £20 or £30 between the 3 of us.

>>  We touched down at PMI and felt the balmy heat of the Mediterranean breeze through the cabin as the doors were opened and we stepped out onto the tarmac.  Our luggage arrived a little later and was now dressed with the mandatory orange baggage labels.  Picking up the keys to our hire car, a 1.9D Renault Clio with only 6000km on the clock, we tore out of the airport as if we had just stolen it and sped off around Palma ringroad for the resort.
(It is a condition of holding a British passport that when you are on holiday in a foreign country and in possession of a hire vehicle, that you drive in 2nd or 3rd gear and at 4000rpm or above - we obliged .)

>>  Our resort, Santa Ponca, was in the south-west of the island and within 30 - 40 minutes of most of the crags. There was even a crag with about 8 routes overlooking our apartment.   For a small island, Mallorca must have more than its fair share of rock and bolts per inhabitant.  Indeed, when and if the rest of the island is developed, a guide book even bigger than the current tome produced for the Peak District will be needed.
Our 2-bedroom apartment with private pool was ideal and located about 10 minutes walk from the beach, 10 minutes from the centre of town, 10 minutes drive from 2 golf courses and 5 minutes walk from the bars and restaurants.  In fact everything you could imagine.

>>  A climbing holiday in Mallorca involves all of the above and more.
It is a trip back to the fun-packed, carefree days of youth when staying up all night, or at least until 2am, and drinking lager and cocktails was the main objective of a trip abroad.  It is about having a large apartment with MTV and Brittany Spears, and a fridge full of cheap Spanish lager.  It is about trying to impress 16 year old Spanish students in the local night-clubs by jumping up and down waving your arms.  It is about getting up at midday and only then thinking about the itinerary for the day.
All of this was and still is the true essence of Mallorca.  Only now, there is the perfect excuse to book that holiday on an island that was once viewed with disdain - climbing. 

>>  Mallorca is a completely different feeling from that of going to France, where you drive for 20 hours to a cold, gite in the middle of the country far from any other form of life and where the bars shut at 11pm.
Mallorca has the best of everything; good weather; dramatic scenery; beaches, entertainment at night; lots to do during the day and above all great climbing on many different crags for all abilities.
All this within an island that is only 60 miles wide and 2 hours by plane from the UK.   That is why so many people return again and again.

>>  If all of this appeals to you, read on.