A guide of things to do in Palma de Mallorca by Conde Traveller

FALLING FOR PALMA IS INEVITABLE. For the ridiculously tall palm trees that line the rejuvenated waterfront; the characterful Old Town with Moorish architecture; and for the funky yet low-fi vibe of the place. In Portixol, the tanned houses with sun-faded, forest-green shutters span the curving bay, and there are only three shops (plus a tobacconist), all of which sell fishing kit. This barrio is bookended by Nassau Beach Club, with sunbeds and raffia umbrellas on the sand, and the harbour, where shiny Sunseekers are moored alongside bobbing wooden boats. Borrowing a bicycle fromPortixol hotel - the first proper design bolthole to open in the city 17 years ago - I take the path that runs along the beach, following the shoreline past paella-eating diners at El Bungalow and behind the thrumming Purobeach club, all the way to El Arenal. Rollerbladers and teenage boys on scooters whizz by.

'This is our Ocean Drive,' says Mikael Landström, the Swedish owner of Portixol hotel, when we meet up later in the bar. He and his wife Johanna bought the place as a wreck when the area was completely run down. 'It's not easy to find property right on the sea here (since the coastal road was built in the 1960s), and we thought it wouldn't be long before it started blooming.' It's taken some time, but things are now looking peachy in Portixol. The couple renovated the hotel from top to bottom: there are 25 rooms, the best of which have balconies with views of the pool and beyond. There's a tiny spa, a boutique that sells the same lovely pinstripe robes as in the bedrooms, and a restaurant under a bamboo pergola that buzzes with locals at lunch. The seafood - octopus carpaccio, seabass ceviche, grilled scallops - is delicious.

Top spots for equally fresh fish are harbour-side Ola del Mar, where the most sought-after seats are out on the front terrace, or the traditional Sa Roqueta, where I sit at a linen-covered table and order a steaming silver tureen of crayfish, langoustine and mussel soup. The Prosecco bar is full of bronzed elbows jostling day and night at the counter for smoothies, snacks and glasses of sparkling wine (at weekends, book ahead for a spot on the tiny, sea-facing balcony). But it's Santa Catalina to the west of the city that's garnering a reputation as the real foodie quarter. Unlike the rest of Palma, the roads are arranged in a grid formation: it was one of the first areas where new housing was built when the population grew too large to be confined inside the now-demolished city walls. Along those streets is restaurant after restaurant after restaurant, unassuming places with wooden tables, director's chairs and blackboards with chalked-up menus.

Sant Francesc HotelAtBunker'sI perch on a stool under a white awning to tuck into melt-in-the-mouth tuna tataki with fennel salad, calamarata pasta with squid, and strawberry sorbet with basil, ginger and grappa ice-cream, all made by chef-owner Luigi Valdambrini in his open-kitchen. Next door isDuke's, which was set up by two Mallorcan friends and named after Hawaiian surfer Duke Paoa Kahanamoku. It feels like a smart beach shack with a menu that mixes Japanese curry and burgers. At the end of pedestrianised calle de la Fábrica,Patrón Lunaresplays up to its heritage as a former social club for retired fishermen: lobster-cage lights and nautical flags hang from the ceiling and a series of portraits on the walls include co-founder Javier Bonet's grandfather, a local angler. 'We wanted to make it a homage to the people from the sea, so we've tried to keep the same spirit,' says Bonet.

Published in Condé Nast Traveller June 2016

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