Son Bonet   LESB

Date of Visit = July 1998

Pilot: = Chris Belton

e-mail = chris@yarboo.freeserve.co.uk

Field Report = We had vowed to give Majorca a wide berth, but I think the heat must have gone to our heads, because the next day we allowed ourselves to be persuaded that it was “the most beautiful place on earth”, an accolade we heard used of quite a few places! Instead of the new international airport, we went to the original airfield of Son Bonet. Inspite of the Bottlang entry, it has fuel.

Photo: John Hardy

The Bottlang Airfield Manual contains an area chart for the Balearic Islands, which shows the VFR Approach corridors to Palma International at 1,000 feet AGL. These conveniently converge on a spot just west of Son Bonet. You should use these since otherwise you will need to exceed the maximum sector altitudes in order to get over the mountains. You can't even ask permission since they won't hear you with the mountains in the way. When we tried to make contact, nobody would relay: as soon as we started talking in English the frequency went deadly quiet! Note: anywhere above 1,000 feet AGL is Class A airspace.

Photo: John Hardy

We parked half a mile from the main terminal, behind the old entrance, which is graced by a an elegant old hotel, now also a country club. There is no way through the perimeter fence, so to get to it now you have to walk a mile down the main road outside the fence. The sight of two rather ragged, dusty travellers coming in off the street obviously did not impress the management, and we were told they were fully booked. We pointed sadly at the aeroplane (so near but so far away) and rooms were hurriedly made available at about 20 GBP each (no lizard, but a bucket in the bidet!). Everyone talked nostalgically about the good old days reflected in the old aviation photos on the walls, when Son Bonet and its hotel were at the centre of things. For a few pesetas more we could have used the swimming pool.

Photo: John Hardy

The bus into Palma leaves from in front of the hotel. We spent a few happy hours in town, surfing the bus network and buying postcards and tacky souvenirs. The old fishing quarter behind the castle is tourist-free and worth a visit. The harbour is bright, cheerful and prosperous-looking, and the clear water populated by shoals of quite big fish called "lisas". We caught another bus to a huge cave with a lake at the bottom, upon which musicians in boats played themes based on Orpheus in the Underworld. Eerie and wondrous, but hell indeed when you are surrounded by a seething mass of about a thousand fellow sinners. I think we had been spoilt by all the beautiful, remote places we had visited in Spain.

Photo: John Hardy