Mallorca by numbers in low season: the joys of visiting the Balearic island before summer arrives, with high temperatures, cheap hotel prices and no queues at passport control

Market day in Santanyi and vendors take advantage of the 28C sun to dry sliced ​​tomatoes on trays, swarms fly around thin sticks of spiced sausage and locals sip Mallorcan wine in the shadow of the enormous 18th century church.

It could be July. The only difference is that there is no English voice. And that’s because I’m here in the off season.

An hour ago my mother and I were on a Ryanair flight at Palma airport and thought we were going to miss the Saturday morning market. But with no queues at passport control or the car rental desk, we arrive just before the vendors are dismantling their stalls.

“They look like big butts,” says my mother as we skip past a vegetable stand bursting with bright red beefsteak tomatoes. The clusters are also large, the size of golf balls. But while the products are great, the prices are low. I get dresses for 2 euros, big bottles of local olive oil for 3 euros and we walk past a fancy wine bar on the way back to the car, sip back two glasses of chilled wine and pay 6 euros.

I wonder why more of us don’t come here before the hordes arrive from May or after they leave in September. Hotel prices are also cheaper.

Cities don’t come much nicer than Santanyi in the southeast. Golden sandstone buildings, most with rustic cactus green shutters, lined streets leading to pretty squares where older men and women sit under lemon trees and children play tag.

Our base is Can Ferrereta, a beautifully restored 17th century Mallorcan country house, the newest hotel in town. It doesn’t look like much from the street, but step inside and the huge reception area with stone arches and rustic beams leads to a huge paved swimming pool with olive and cypress trees and sun loungers.

Our fellow guests are stylish Americans and ridiculously handsome Scandinavians who, like us, are looking for empty beaches, quiet but exciting hikes and good food in the off-season.

The next morning we drag ourselves out of bed early and go to the bakery. Ensaimadas (curls of puff pastry with powdered sugar) are stacked next to lazos (bowtie-shaped sticks of puff pastry) and xuxos (fried custard-filled eclairs). Farmers pull their tractors to the curb for breakfast and lunch.

Harriet lives in the pretty town of Santanyi, where “golden sandstone buildings, most with rustic cactus green shutters, line the streets”.

The trip takes Harriet to Mallorca’s elegant capital, Palma (pictured)

The sun burns through the last lingering cloud as we drive our cane bags full of pastries and fruit from yesterday’s market to Cala Llombards, a cove just ten minutes away.

A short walk from the car park takes us to a white sand bay with traditional fishermen’s houses built into the rock and a channel with deep turquoise water. We spend the day reading and swimming.

A 40-minute drive north to Mallorca’s elegant capital Palma the next morning takes us past crumbling buildings, olive groves and vineyards. We will stay at Can Ferrereta’s sister hotel, the Sant Francesc Hotel Singular, in the historic district of the city.

We leave our bags and go straight to the posh pool on the roof. Behind my sun lounger, the tall spiers of the 13th-century La Seu cathedral rise amid a maze of terracotta roofs, while the Gothic facade of the church of Sant Francesc rises from the piazza. The sun is high in the sky and almost reaches 30 degrees, so we escape the heat and head downtown to La Rosa for some pinchos.

Arriving in Palma, Harriet heads straight for the posh rooftop pool at her hotel, the Sant Francesc Hotel Singular (above).

Harriet admires the Gothic facade of the church of Sant Francesc in Palma, pictured

Above is the interior of the 13th century La Seu Cathedral. Harriet stares at the ‘tall towers’ towering over the skyline of Palma

Harriet in sunny Santanyi

Locals sit at the tiled bars and sip vermouth while chefs prepare dishes in the open kitchen. I get a Chardonnay, my mom orders a Rioja, and we devour plates of white asparagus with orange aioli (delicious), spicy patatas bravas, salty padron peppers, and creamy spinach and blue cheese croquettes.

We arrive at 12:30 without a reservation and by 1:00 it is full. “You’re lucky,” says a smiling waiter as we drive past a wavy line.

The composer Frederic Chopin came to Palma for the first time in November 1838 and wrote to friends: “The sky is turquoise, the sea is blue, the mountains are emerald and the sky? The sky is as blue as the sky.” He might not say the same if he came to visit today in the summer. But the island regains its laid-back charm and natural beauty over the months on either side, and local life picks up again.

Sitting in a quiet square on a sunny November day, I could wholeheartedly agree with Mr. Chopin.