Life often depends on how you look at things. This applies to Mallorca just the same. Take the mail delivery system as an example. I know a number of residents here who, over the years, have done nothing but complain about their mail not reaching them in time, or at all. I personally have nothing but the best experience with the local postal delivery.
Living rurally, which is my own experience, means that mail does not get delivered. Instead, you are meant to collect your mail yourself from the person in charge in your particular village. It may be the local bar where all the mail is delivered to and where you go for a coffee to then nonchalantly enquire about any letters that may have arrived. If not the bar, it may be a local grocery shop where you collect your letters and bills together with a bit of local gossip. In Ca’s Concos d’es Cavaller it used to be a lady who opened her own house for one hour per day to hand out the mail to whoever was expecting some post. I just loved visiting her once a week. At one time, years ago, she greeted me saying that she had heard that I had been put into prison.
Now I live in Felanitx, in a townhouse. The mail gets delivered here a few times per week by the jolliest mail lady you can imagine. We are in the custom of exchanging a kiss on the cheek when she deliveres a long awaited parcel, i. e. it is me kissing her cheek in gratitude for the safe delivery. It’s just wonderful.
Some locals in the countryside are now spoiling it, I think, by putting up mailboxes along a country lane in a rather offensive manner. I suspect it might be foreigners who are too timid to speak the local language and rather opt for the anonymity of an impersonal delivery system without any gossip and without a kiss on the cheek. I pity them.
The photo was chosen from my archive. It was taken near Felanitx, Mallorca, Baleares, Spain. The date: January 11th, 2009. The time was 13:52:28.