The Lodge Mallorca

I’d escaped London on a solo trip for some much-needed R ’n’ R, and found myself in a rental car at Palma airport, battling with an exit barrier unwilling to recognise my ticket. I wondered if I would make it beyond arrivals, when I became aware of a car-full of exuberant locals calling ‘¡Está abierto!’ in my direction. Much to my embarrassment, I realised the barrier had been open all along. Laughing along, I sped off to the Lodge hotel. 

Passing earth-toned villages peppered with terracotta church spires, against the dramatic mountain backdrop of the Serra de Tramuntana, the Ma-13 Highway delivered me from the airport to the Lodge in just over half an hour. Pine- and eucalyptus-scented island air drifted in through the windows, and I could already feel the weight of the world lifting. I turned off onto a dusty path and the resort gate opened to reveal a breathtaking drive through a lavender field up to the 16th-century farmhouse. Rays of sunlight bounced off an unusual shape, which revealed itself to be a masterpiece by Madrid-born sculptor Gonzalo Guzmán. The piece – Lucid Dreams – is said to be inspired by the moments when you dream and are aware that you are dreaming, which felt most fitting as part of this pinch-yourself arrival. 

I was greeted by a bellboy in a golf buggy, who whisked my luggage and I off to reception, pointing out orchards, ancient olive trees and plentiful kitchen gardens along the way. Welcome drink in hand, I enjoyed the tastefully rustic aesthetic of the reception, where the farm's original tafona (a stone mill used for making olive oil) sat alongside a wall of fridges filled with wine from local vineyards. I immediately made a dinner reservation, signed up for yoga sessions and booked in for a massage at the wellness centre. Bikes are available at the hotel, with a map of local trails, so guests can freely zip around. 

I was staying in a Deluxe Suite with a garden view, with over 32 square-metres of beautifully considered space, including a private terrace surrounded by olive and pomegranate trees. My favourite feature was the rainfall shower, which opens into the secluded outdoor space – a luxurious touch. Having settled in and feeling rejuvenated from a swim in the infinity pool, I freshened up and headed over to the terrace for a sundowner. I tried a couple of glasses of wine from a local producer at sister hotel Finca Serena, before moving into the resort’s romantically low-lit Singular Restaurant to sample the fire-inspired menu by two-Michelin-starred chef Ramón Freixa. I dipped fresh bread into a punchy olive oil, served with traditional Mallorcan sausage. The gazpacho was otherworldly: a sultry, sensual dish of tomatoes elevated with strawberry and cherry; and I opted for the daily special of mackerel with a vivacious caper, tomato and pepper side-dish. I delight in dining alone, and the staff were perfectly attentive, engaging in conversation but knowing exactly when to leave me to my own company. 

Feeling satiated, I walked back to my room under a starry sky and got cosy under a blanket. I played the hotel-curated Spotify playlist on my Bluetooth speaker, which seamlessly continued the resort’s ambience into my room. And then read some of the excellent selection of art and design books before sinking into the enormous bed. 

How I wish I could start every day with a sunrise yoga session. There’s a small end-of-season group (the resort’s only weeks away from closing for winter), so our teacher could tailor the session to individual needs and brought in-depth knowledge of Chinese herbal medicine to the practice. The breakfast spread to follow was the best kind of reward, including chia pudding pots, truffled eggs and more. Thinking to myself ‘it really doesn’t get any better than this’ I set up shop by the pool with a stack of books and submitted to a languid morning. This level of relaxation could only be topped by a short hop to the wellness centre, where a therapist intuitively worked out my knots and eliminated the last of my tension. 

Tempting as it was to spend the rest of the afternoon lazing by the pool, I went out to explore, driving to the other side of the island to tour the gardens of a well-known landscape designer. Observing that the plant life felt Californian, I learnt that the soil in Mallorca is very similar, and cacti, succulents, citrus trees and rosemary thrive here. Late Autumn is the ‘spring’ of the Balearics, when everything starts to bloom; it’s a beautiful time to visit. I feel a renewed appreciation of the horticultural work that happens at the Unesco-protected nature reserve surrounding the Lodge, and the immense challenge the team undertake to shape the environment and curate something alive and wild.

On my way back I stopped at Sa Pobla. It was Friday night, and the town square was buzzing with life – the perfect place to sit with a drink. As the evening drew in, fairylights twinkled and a movie was projected onto the town hall’s façade. I ordered tapas at a family-run spot, and realised that as much as I enjoy the lively atmosphere and animated children running around, I’m doing so safe in the knowledge that I’ll shortly be returning to adults-only tranquillity.

The following day, having squeezed in another yoga session, magnificent breakfast and swim, it’s time to leave. Feeling fully nourished and rejuvenated, driving back through the lavender fields, past the Guzmán sculpture, I could almost hear my body thanking me. R ’n’ R mission accomplished.