A cathedral, a palace and a hip that has opinions

6:30am. The sun isn’t even fully committed to the day yet, and here I am, wide awake, having just staged an involuntary all-night wrestling match between my hip joint and every available sleeping position. Spoiler: the hip won. On points, in every round.
Turns out my body had also quietly decided to run a little overnight experiment in hypoglycaemia, because why have one uncomfortable mystery when you can have two working in tandem? Mystery solved, mostly — low blood sugar has a way of explaining an awful lot in hindsight, including why 3am felt like a personal betrayal.
Too early to actually do anything about any of this, so I did what any reasonable person does at this hour: lay very still and planned the day like a tiny general plotting a very low-stakes campaign.
Here’s where the troops are headed this morning:
• La Seu — the cathedral, because you can’t come to Palma and not gawk at the big Gothic showstopper on the seafront
• Almudaina Palace — royal digs right next door, presumably with better climate control than my hotel room
• Parc de la Mar — a stroll by the water to let the cathedral views sink in properly
• The old town — no fixed route, just vibes and alleyways
Lunch is intentionally undefined. Bars and restaurants will be discovered the old-fashioned way — by wandering until something smells irresistible.
Hip status: grudgingly cooperative. Blood sugar: presumably relieved to have made the news. Plan: loose, sensible, and entirely subject to change the moment a pastry gets involved.
More after we’ve actually located the cathedral and not just its general direction.