Brave new Soller

Some of the owners of traditional shops have also philosophically conceded that their offspring don’t want to follow in the family’s footsteps, running stores that involves a great deal of stock taking, long hours and little financial return. We’ve lost our bookshop, mini Fortnum & Mason deli, art shop, a pottery and kitchen ware shop, two shoe shops and soon one of the oldest groceries will close. Our famed Café Paris on the plaça also closed its doors citing huge increase in rents and staffing issues. Traffic is such a problem now that parking is nigh impossible, and the summer will be a huge, hot and sticky scrum. One of my friends who rents a holiday home in Soller is so distressed by the changes to the town, the noise, volume of people and lack of peace that she’s thinking of leaving.

The village of Deya has been taken over by the exclusive foreign holiday home set who rarely visit, leaving a ghost town for locals in the winter months. Many rent out their homes during the summer for excruciatingly high prices that have driven away the remaining hippies and artists who can no longer afford to live there. Deya is still a pretty place but it’s become a bland tourist hang out with most of the inhabitants there to service their needs. The offspring of writer, Robert Graves, who was a stalwart of the village, saw the writing on the wall some years ago and moved out. I sincerely hope that Soller will not go the same way: a chi-chi pit stop for wealthy tourists without character or facilities for those of us who live there all year round.

Of course, change doesn’t always have to be bad. While we mourn the loss of much-loved businesses, we also welcome some interesting and innovative shops and restaurants, especially those offering healthy and vegetarian fare. One of the best additions to the town is the baker, Forn de Barri, which creates scrumptious sourdough loaves of all kinds and heavenly croissants and bakes. Having penned seven travel titles about Mallorca and three crime novels, I’m happy to think that many of Soller’s prized shops and businesses will at least have longevity in my books.

For those contemplating a visit to Soller, please just heed my advice and avoid the summer months like the plague unless you have no alternative. The hotel and rental home prices are exorbitant, and the restaurants, cafés and carparks full to busting. You cannot have dinner out without advance booking and hire cars are so expensive, you’d be better investing in an old banger for your sojourn. Taxis are practically non-existent, and the beaches are heaving. At other times of the year, you still have sun and beauty but without the crowds and cost. What’s not to like?

It’s a hold up!

A Frail 69-year-old pensioner was handed a two year sentence this week for attempting to hold up three different banks in the East Sussex area. He brazenly walked up to the counter of each and demanded cash in £10 and £20 notes, assuring the cashiers that no one would get hurt if they met his demand. Naturally, the staff, safely behind perspex screens, ignored his order and instead called the police via panic buttons.

The man was finally arrested and having committed other petty local thefts, was given a custodial sentence. This, for many on the street, is a dream ticket. To have a two-year reprieve from a miserable existence living on the street or in utter poverty in exchange for a warm cell, guaranteed daily grub, TV, library and gym, must seem like hitting the jackpot. Of course, the downside is that you’d be mixing with some pretty bad asses in the clink but the hassle of finding the daily bread and lodging is over.

I’m sure the wily pensioner who offered fake threats to these local banks had come up with the ingenious plan just to ensure that he’d finally be nicked and have a little reprieve from having to eke out his existence on the cold streets of Sussex.

On one of my frequent trips to Sri Lanka some years ago where I carried out charity work, I came across a sad little boy whose fisherman father had murdered his wife, the child’s mother. When I expressed shock, the nun who was caring for him told me that getting a murder sentence for a poor fisherman meant guaranteed board and lodging and a roof over the head.

What kind of a sad world do we live in when committing a serious crime and being locked up offers some the chance of a better life than liberty?

Cat burglars

Talking of thieves, I Ioved the story about naughty Harry, the black and white cat from Derby, who spent several years amassing items that he’d stolen from neighbours’ homes. His owner reckoned he’d absconded with more than £300 worth of goods which he’d brought through the kitchen cat flap. Items included a lady’s expensive shoe, purses, sports bras, food packets and even sausages. Harry’s owner decided to post his spoils on her town’s Facebook page and soon locals began claiming their goods. Imagine the embarrassment of having to make excuses for your kleptomaniac cat. I am keeping a firm eye on my little terrors who so far prefer to dump rodents and dead geckos at my door.