I never quite took to the concept of a Spanish siesta. How could I possibly satisfy my FOMO and “do it all” if “all” the restaurants, cafés, stores, and museums shut between 3 and 7 p.m.?
Then I decided to walk around the Balearic island of Menorca, the under-appreciated little sister of the flashy Mallorca, some 42 nautical miles to the southwest. And by walk, I don’t mean amble from one tourist site to the beach. I mean stuffing a daypack with three liters (seven pounds) of water, protein bars, a hat, sunscreen, mosquito repellent, and dry clothes to hike about eight miles each day, laboriously tackling the island’s 115-mile circumference.
Never have I needed a daily nap so badly come 3 p.m.
Menorca’s entire coastline is broken up into 20 sections of a wild but impeccably maintained trail called the Camí de Cavalls, or “Way of Horses.” Dating back centuries, this UNESCO Biosphere Reserve has little to no elevation but features almost every existing ecosystem in the Mediterranean. Instead of hut to hut as on Switzerland’s Via Alpina 1 trail, the segments are broken up by hotels or fincas (farmhouses). The path can be circumnavigated by foot, bike, or horseback—ideally in the spring, fall, or even winter, as much of it is fully sun-exposed. I planned a hike for early October.
Plan it on your own or have your luggage transported and hotels arranged
With proper maps and gear, it’s possible to hike the Camí without assistance, but camping isn’t allowed, so you’d be responsible for carrying your luggage and booking accommodation at the beginning or end of each section, which are between 3 and 8.5 miles each. You could also drive to a section’s starting point and backtrack to your parking spot or arrange a taxi.
Neither of these options appealed to me, so I employed 40 Nord Outdoor, a company that handles the logistics of point-to-point hiking along the Camí. Tour operators can book accommodations based on your budget and trekking goals, but I wanted to choose my hotels. I therefore hired the company to arrange my itinerary, drive me to and from trailheads when needed, monitor my whereabouts (which they did via WhatsApp), and deliver my luggage from point A to point B.
Hiking the entire perimeter could take between six and 10 days, depending on one’s pace and fitness level. I didn’t want to rush and had a handful of days to play with, so I focused on five stages in the south, which I was told had more “postcard” charming villages and white-sand shores. The north, on the other hand, is more rugged and less urbanized, with fewer towns and accommodation choices.
End each day with a refreshing dip
Cala Macarelleta is Menorca’s harder-to-access beach that’s worth the hike up a steep trail.
Photo by Mateusz Misztal/Shutterstock
For my first stage, it was 78 degrees by 10 a.m., and I heard little but the wind and the noise from my gait as I traversed 7.8 miles along the coast. Save for a few sheep grazing this otherwise arid, rocky terrain, I was alone. Thankfully, any anxiety I am wont to have while hiking solo disappeared thanks to the well-placed red-and-white mile markers and wooden gates, which are an iconic trait of the Camí. About 200 of them dot the trail, averaging one every kilometer.
Just before reaching the end of the section, I dove into the sparkling sea in front of the Sa Farola lighthouse and then sank into a chair at restaurant Ulisses, in the historic port city of Ciutadella, for a beer and croquetas. This swim-and-snack combo would eventually become routine each day, followed by that requisite nap.
On the next day’s stage, I continued along a dusty path marked by hooves, signaling horseback riders had recently trotted amid the tall kermes oak and juniper trees hovering overhead. Gargling seawater helped cure an ill-timed sore throat, and I admired runners on a manmade boardwalk out on their morning jog.
At the end of my fourth day, I found myself—and many others—at the magnificent Cala Macarella beach, an unspoiled stretch of sand accented by shimmering shades of cerulean. This shore is accessible to anyone willing to walk 15 minutes (even in flip-flops) from a parking lot. Few decide to climb the cliff linking it to its sister stretch, Cala Macarelleta, which is where the trail is a bit steep, rocky, and narrow, but it’s worth it for the magnificent overhead view.
Stay in swanky accommodations
Pass through towns like Mahon on your way around the island.
Photo by Kirk Fisher/Shutterstock
There is a certain kind of proud glee reserved for people who check into a luxury hotel with wet hair and dirty boots dangling from their backpack after having walked many, many miles. That was me as I happily sipped a boozy welcome cocktail at the Villa Le Blanc Gran Meliá.
This 159-room seaside stunner with floor-to-ceiling glass walls was a welcome contrast to my day of roughing it. My corner suite on the fourth floor was so sun-dappled and cotton-colored that I needed sunglasses in bed. Located in the tiny town of Sant Tomas, the hotel was perfectly placed on the Camí, which I could see from my balcony. I’d get back on it come morning, but not before taking advantage of the rooftop pool and breakfast buffet, which overflowed with mini avocado toasts, sugar-coated crespelle cookies, and chunks of fresh Manchego cheese. It was a feast far bigger than I thought my stomach could handle before exercising, but handle it I did, and then I was off to the neighboring town of Son Bou.
This day’s stage took me off the coast, and I was about two miles inland when my shoes began to sink. The path had narrowed significantly and become swampy. Across the other side, I could see what appeared to be a tour group of about 10 people waiting to cross. It was the first time I’d encountered so many fellow hikers. While they slowly made their way toward me, and I them, I carefully increased my stride in the hopes of avoiding a stalemate. Finally, I crossed the most precarious part and felt satisfied for completing what seemed like a challenge on the reality show Survivor without a casualty. I practically shimmied onto the paved road, which brought me to the agriturismo Fontenille Torre Vella, my home for the remaining two nights.
This 17-room countryside refuge, 10 minutes by car from the port of Mahon and the island’s only airport, comprises several stone structures dating back to Neolithic times that are now part of a typical Menorcan finca. Think rustic interiors, stone walls surrounded by cacti, and a pool set amid seagrass.
Ending with the ultimate relaxation
As if ordained from above, on the seventh and final full day of my trip, it rained. I watched the sky unfold from the comfort of my room, happy that a hike wasn’t on my agenda, but also sad that the trekking portion of my journey was complete. I looked forward to the late-afternoon massage I’d booked at the hotel’s sister property, Santa Ponsa. This larger finca with Moorish influences is 3.5 miles further inland and spans more than 247 acres (100 hectares).
Ninety minutes of pure bliss later, my legs long retired, I took a cab to a different hotel, Menorca Experimental, for an exquisite three-course meal. I dined on seabass ceviche soaked in jalapeño-infused tiger milk; the most tender grilled chicken topped with preserved lemon, harissa, and labneh; and, for dessert, a Menorcan specialty: caramelized torrija, a kind of French toast served with vanilla ice cream. It was far too late for siesta, so I’d have to succumb to a food coma instead. I’d earned it.
