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About Palma

So, I’m picturin’ it—me, stumblin’ around, tryin’ to find a prostitute. Not that I’d *do* it, no, no, no—I’m too cheap, too paranoid! What if she’s a cop? What if she’s my cousin’s friend’s sister? Oh my God, I’d die—*“The shame of it all!”*—like Q’orianka Kilcher whisperin’ to the wind in the movie. But let’s say I’m out there, right? Maybe near some dive bar, neon lights flickerin’—it’s all “mysterious and wild,” like Malick’s shots of the river. I’m sweatin’, I’m pacin’, I’m yellin’ in my head, “Larry, you idiot, why are you here?!”

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Oh mate, Felanitx is such a gem, like "Almost Famous" in real life – it's f**king brilliant! Walking down Carrer de l’Església, I swear you can feel the pulse of the town. I’m a family psychologist here, right? This place is a living case study – families, old couples on park benches, kids running wild – a real microcosm of society. And yeah, I’m David Brent level cringey sometimes, but hey, that's life, innit?

Figure 7: Spongework microforms in Cova des Coll (Felanitx). They are...