Balearic Islands 4K Travel Film 2025: Ibiza, Mallorca, Menorca & Formentera – Cinematic Guide
Scattered across the western Mediterranean, the Balieric Islands, Ibiza, Foremanra, Mayorca, and Minorca rise like fragments of time shaped by sea and civilization. For thousands of years, these lands have drawn Phoenician sailors, Roman legions, and Moorish builders, each leaving their mark upon the stone, the water, and the light. Here, watchtowers still guard the horizon. Ancient ports trade salt and stories, and cliffs sculpted by wind and hand reveal the meeting of myth and nature. From Traumantana’s mountains to Ibiza’s sacred coes through pine forests and turquoise bays, we follow the echoes of empire and the quiet beauty that endures. Welcome to World Adventure OS. Travel with us. A sandstone quarry reshaped into one of the island’s most unusual landscapes. First excavated in the 16th century, the site was left with terraces, steps, and carved walls. Over time, the sea transformed them into tide pools glowing in emerald and turquoise. In the 1960s, Ibiza’s counterculture gave it a name that endures. Atlantis, a hidden sanctuary where history, geology, and legend collide. From the carved cliffs of Atlantis, the journey continues west to Kala Compt, where the Mediterranean reveals its clearest waters. A natural aquarium of turquoise. The shoreline is divided into sandy curves and rocky coes while offshore seven tiny eyelets rise on the horizon. Together they shape one of Abiza’s most iconic seascapes. Here, shallow sandbars catch the light, reflecting every shade of blue, and when the day ends, the sun sets are counted among the finest in Europe. A natural theater of light where sea and sky perform together. South of Kalakt, the coast transforms again at Ces Selenus, a 7,500 acre natural park. Here, dunes and wetlands meet the ancient salt pans, first worked by the Phoenetians more than 2,000 years ago. The beach stretches nearly a mile with shallow turquoise waters, while just inland, saline ponds host flamingos and over 200 species of migratory birds. Ceselenez is both a sanctuary for biodiversity and one of the most culturally significant landscapes of Ebiza. Beyond the salt flats and wetlands of Cesalenz, the journey returns to Aida’s west coast, where Kalatarida stretches, the island’s longest sandy beach, close to 3,000 ft in length. Its brilliant white sand and shallow waters create a shifting pallet of blues, perfect for families and swimmers. The bay is dotted with rocky outcrops breaking the waves, forming quiet natural pools. facing west. Kalatarida has become one of Aida’s favorite sunset stages. Each evening the sky transforms into a spectacle of fire and gold. From the wide sunsets of Kala, the journey shifts north to Kala Benerz. Framed by pinecovered hills and defined by the silhouette of Cap Bernat, often called the finger of God. Since the 1960s, the beach has been a stage for sunset drum gatherings, a ritual that continues to this day. Here, sound, sea, and sky converge, making Beniro not just a beach, but a cultural landmark. One of the few places in Spain where tradition and counterculture meet in daily harmony. At the top of the island’s capital rises the Castell de Avis visa, a fortress completed in the 16th century under King Philip II of Spain. Built during an age of constant conflict, it formed part of one of the most advanced military defenses in Europe, designed to repel Ottoman fleets and pirate incursions. Its bastions and gates still dominate the skyline, a stone witness to centuries when the island stood as a frontier of survival in the Mediterranean. Encircling the high town is Dalt Vila, whose Renaissance walls rise up to 82 feet high and 16 ft thick. Among the best preserved in the world, recognized since 1999 as a world heritage treasure, these fortifications embody the pinnacle of Renaissance military engineering. Inside, cobblestone streets, churches, and houses dating back more than four centuries preserve a living memory of the island’s past, where heritage and daily life blend together. At the foot of the fortress lies the harbor of Ibiza, a natural inlet used continuously for more than 2,500 years. From the Phoenetians and Romans to the modern fairies that link to Formentara, the port has always been the island’s lifeline. Today, the contrast of luxury yachts mored beside Renaissance walls forms one of Spain’s most dramatic coastal skylines. Few harbors in Europe unite such an unbroken timeline of history with modern vitality. On the west coast stretches the Bay of Saint Anton de Portminy, one of the largest natural bays in the Balieric Islands. Once a fishing village, it became a strategic anchorage thanks to its shelter and size. In the 20th century, it grew into a hub for tourism and sailing with a marina welcoming hundreds of yachts each summer. Famous worldwide for its sunsets, San Anton has become a modern emblem of coastal beauty, balancing heritage and leisure. On the northeast promontory stand the ruins of Puna Grosa Lighthouse, first lit in 1859, abandoned after only a few decades because of its isolation and dangerous access. The crumbling tower remains perched on the edge of the cliffs. Today, hikers arrive to find a haunting scene. Stone walls collapsing into the sea. It is a rare glimpse of maritime history, a reminder that even the greatest efforts of man can be overtaken by nature. Near Kalakampt, the Saw Faggera Borda cave cuts into the cliffs like a vast natural arch opening directly onto turquoise waters. Accessible only by boat or kayak, it remains one of the coastline’s hidden treasures. Here, the slow but relentless force of erosion has carved the stone into dramatic shapes. Safagera Borda is a geological showcase, a secret window into the island’s forgotten shoreline. But as the coast turns north, the scenery grows harsher. On the north coast lies Oara Bay, one of the most remote and untouched landscapes of the Bolerics. Here, cliffs rise more than 800 ft above the sea, a sheer wall of limestone battered constantly by wind and waves. This area belongs to Esamun, a vast natural reserve where pine forests end abruptly in vertical rock and sea caves echo with the sound of the surf. No roads lead here. Only long hikes or boat journeys reveal its hidden coes. Albara is the island at its wildest. A place where nature dominates completely and silence speaks louder than civilization. And while the north is defined by raw cliffs, the far southwest hides a quieter secret. Hidden in the far southwest lies Kala Yentrisa, one of the island’s most secret shores. Along the water stand fisherman’s huts, their wooden ramps stretching into turquoise calm, a scene unchanged for generations. For decades, it was known only to locals, reached by steep footpaths far from the tourist trails. Kala Yentrisa preserves the memory of a simpler island where sea and stone still speak louder than people. Off the island’s southwest coast rises Esvedra, a limestone monolith standing nearly 1300 ft tall, almost completely vertical. It is one of the highest sea stacks in the Mediterranean, visible from miles away. Shrouded in legend, Esvedra has been linked to the Phoenician goddess Tannet, to tales of sirens in Homer’s Odyssey, and to unexplained magnetic phenomena reported by sailors. Protected as part of a natural reserve, it remains both a geological marvel and a cultural icon of the Balieric Islands. But even beyond Esvedra’s legends, the island still hides landscapes few have ever seen. On the rugged northern coast stands Pelar Deampamp, a natural balcony over the Mediterranean. Here, cliffs rise steep and raw, carved by wind and sea into one of the wildest stretches of shoreline, part of the Smos Reserve. It is a meeting point of pine forest and sheer limestone walls where the horizon seems endless. Few visitors ever make the journey, the path is narrow, the access demanding, and the solitude complete. Pelar day camp is more than a viewpoint. It is the island’s hidden face, untamed, isolated, and shaped entirely by nature’s hand. And while the north remains silent, the western waters still shine with the light of history. Off the western coast lies Sa Conera, a small island crowned by a lighthouse. Completed in 1857, still active today, it guards the entrance to Santon Bay. The island is tied to legend. According to tradition, it was the birthplace of Hannibal Barka, the Carthaginian general who marched with elephants across the Alps to challenge Rome. Whether fact or myth, the story transforms Sakoneiera into more than just a rocky outpost. It becomes a link between the island and the epic sweep of Mediterranean history. And finally, across the waters to the northeast, another solitary beacon rises. Just off the northeast coast rises Ila Deago Magago, a small rocky island surrounded by brilliant turquoise seas. It has been a landmark for sailors for centuries. Its lighthouse built in 1913 still guiding ships through the channel. From pirate hideouts to modern retreats, this place has always carried an air of exclusivity and mystery. Seen from above, its rugged cliffs and solitary lighthouse form a striking counterpoint to the busy mainland. A reminder that solitude still survives. Just offshore in the 16th century when pirate raids and Ottoman fleets threatened the Mediterranean, Ibiza answered with a chain of watchtowers, stone sentinels scanning the horizon day and night. At the southern tip, the toé descara to the north, the Tore de Molar kept watch over the sheltered port of St. Michael. On the southwest coast, facing the mysterious rock of Esvidra, stood the Tore de Savinar, often called the pirate tower. And to the west, the Toré Den Rover commanded the wide bay of Saint Anton. Together, they formed a living network of warnings where smoke by day and fire by night carried messages across the island for more than 400 years. Their weathered stones remain reminders of a time when survival depended on vigilance and the sea was both lifeline and threat. Just 6 km south of Ibiza lies Foremanra, the smallest of the Balieric Islands. Its waters are purified by seaggrass meadows over 100,000 years old. A living system that keeps the sea crystal clear. Fore is often called the last paradise of the Mediterranean and its beaches are the reason why. Here the water is so clear that visibility can reach over 100 ft. A natural aquarium shaped by ancient seaggrass meadows of Posedonia. Considered one of the oldest living organisms on Earth. With more than 12 m of coastline, the island offers a variety few places can match. Long white sand stretches, tiny hidden coes, and red cliffs carved by the sea. It is this combination of clarity, color, and diversity that has earned these shores a place among the most celebrated in the world. says, “Elletes, often ranked among the most beautiful beaches on Earth, stretches like a ribbon of white sand between two seas. Part of the Cesselenez National Park, this narrow peninsula is surrounded on both sides by shallow turquoise waters and protected dunes. Its name means the eyelets, a reference to the small islands that dot the horizon, breaking the waves into a calm lagoon. It is the quintessential image of Foremanra, the one that made the island famous worldwide. But beyond the wide sands of Cesileletes, the island also hides treasures on a smaller scale. Places where cliffs and sea compress into intimate corners. On the southern coast lies Calo Desmort, a secret cove, a tiny crescent of sand framed by rugged cliffs where traditional fishing huts still rest on the rocks. The contrast of weathered wood, golden stone, and glowing turquoise water has turned this place into one of the island’s most photographed corners. Remote and dramatic, it feels like a natural amphitheater sculpted by the sea. And if Calo Desmort is the island in miniature, further west, the landscape opens again with cliffs of fire and a horizon that seems endless. On the western shore lies Kala Seiona. Carved into red sandstone cliffs, the calm, shallow waters glow with intense shades of blue, while the warm tones of the rocks create a striking contrast. For many visitors, Kala Seiona is not just a beach, but the perfect sunset stage of this Mediterranean jewel. It is one of the best places on the island to watch the sun sink into the horizon, painting the sky in fire and gold. At the southern tip stands the Farday Barbaria, the most iconic lighthouse of Formentara. Built in 1971, it rises stark and white over barren cliffs, a solitary beacon facing the open sea. More than a navigational light, it has become a cultural symbol immortalized in film and photography as the very edge of the island. A place where land seems to dissolve into infinity. Not far from the lighthouse, the Tore de deser recalls an older era when pirate raids terrorized the Balierics. Erected in the 18th century, it was part of a chain of watchtowers surrounding the coast, each capable of sending smoke or fire signals to warn of danger. Its stone walls still stand, silent witnesses of centuries spent scanning the horizon for threats that might come from the sea. Closer to the salt flats stands a smaller white tower, once used for observation and defense. Though modest in scale, it reflects the same vigilance that shaped island life for generations. Today, it watches over nearby beaches and seaside restaurants, a landmark where history blends seamlessly with the rhythms of daily life. Just north lies Espalador, a small island untouched by development. Its shoreline stretches in pristine white sand lapped by shallow turquoise water. So clear it feels like glass. For centuries, visitors came here for its natural mudbaths. Believed to hold healing properties, now carefully protected to preserve the ecosystem with no permanent inhabitants, Espalador remains what much of the Mediterranean once was, wild, silent, and timeless. But even paradise cannot exist in complete isolation. Every land needs a doorway to the world beyond. That doorway is La Savina, the only port of Formentara. For more than a hundred years, it has been the island’s lifeline. Once sending salt and fish to distant shores, today receiving fairies from Ibiza and beyond. Here, tradition meets modernity. Fishing boats morowed beside luxury yachts, salt flats glimmering just behind the docks. It is the place where travelers arrive and depart. The point where this small land embraces the sea and the sea embraces it in return. Largest of the Boleric Islands. This land has been shaped by every civilization that touched its shores. Phoenician, Roman, Moorish, and Catalan. Between mountains and sea lies a coastline of golden light, where cities meet ancient ports and cliffs guard quiet bays. It is an island of limestone and memory where history breathes through wind and stone. At the heart of the island stands Palma, once the Moorish capital of Medina Mayora. After the reconquest in 1229 by King James I of Aragon, the city became a crossroads of trade and culture across the Mediterranean. Today, its skyline unites centuries, Arabic arches, Gothic spires, Renaissance patios, and modern glass towers, each reflecting the island’s layered identity. The view turns toward the sea. Rooftops dissolving into light and horizon. Stretching wide beneath the city. Palma Bay has always been its natural harbor. Roman triammes, Arab merchant ships and Catalan fleets once sailed these same waters. From above, the bay curves like a crescent of light, a mirror of changing fortunes, where commerce, conquest, and calm have shared the same horizon for over 2,000 years. The camera follows the curve of the coast, then descends toward the docks, where sails and masts still write the island’s story. For centuries, Palma Harbor was the island’s lifeline. Medieval ships carried salt and oil and the fabrics of a rising trade to distant Mediterranean ports. In the 15th century, it became a strategic center for the crown of Aragon’s expansion across the sea. Now yachts and feries glide over the same waters once patrolled by corsairs. Reminders that prosperity and peril always came from the same horizon. From the harbor, city noise recedes. The view turns inland toward its oldest heart. Rising above the waterfront, Lassa stands where a mosque once faced Mecca. After the victory of 1229, King James I vowed to build a cathedral in gratitude. Construction began in 1230 and spanned four centuries, creating one of Europe’s tallest Gothic naves, 44 m high. Inside the rose window, the eye of the Gothic holds more than 1,200 pieces of colored glass. In 1904, Antony Gaudi restored parts of the interior, suspending a vast canopy above the altar, merging Gothic structure with modernist grace. From above, Lay seems to float between city and sea. A cathedral born from conquest, devotion, and light. The view drifts westward, faith giving way to fortitude as grace yields to the power of stone. High on a pinecovered hill rises the Castell de Belv built in 1309 for King James II. Its name means beautiful view, a tribute to its rare circular design, one of only a few of its kind in Europe. Across the centuries, it served many roles. A royal residence, a refuge during plague, and later a military prison that once held the enlightenment thinker Gaspar Melur Dehovve Yanos. From its towers, the bay unfolds below. A panorama that is witnessed every era pass. As the hills descend, the city’s rhythm fades. The coast grows wilder. The story turns from stone to sea. Tucked among pine forests, these twin coes once sheltered fishermen’s boats in calm, clear waters. The surrounding cliffs are pure limestone, the same rock that built the cathedral and the island’s ancient fortresses. Here the sea becomes liquid glass reflecting a shoreline shaped by erosion and endurance. The shore bends westward. Shadows gathering beneath the cliffs. traces of labor, faith, and time. The portal’s vevel’s caves reveal a union of history and geology. Their walls were quarried in the 15th century to supply stone for lassu, leaving vast hollowed chambers facing the sea. Later, sailors used them as shelters during storms, a refuge carved from the same rock that built the island’s sacred heart. Outside, corrants dive through turquoise water and rise along the cliffs. Life moving in rhythm with the tide. Today, the caves glow with shifting light, silent archives of effort and patience. Farther along the coast, the cliffs give way to open water. light returning as the sea stretches wide. Once a hidden anchorage for traders, this bay is now among the island’s most photographed inlets. The water shifts from emerald to sapphire, and the limestone still bears the marks of ancient chisels. Each ripple reflects centuries of craftsmanship by wind and wave. The coast turns again toward cliffs that no longer guard but gaze into open sea. At El Toro, legend meets modernity. These cliffs once stood as lookout points against corsaires and pirates. Centuries later, the same headland became home to Port Adriano, redesigned by Phipe Stark in 2012 as one of the Mediterranean’s most elegant marinas. Just offshore lies the marine reserve of El Toro where groupers, barracudas and sea turtles drift among coralcovered rocks. In this single view, the island’s long arc of history converges from defense to design, from fear to beauty. Past the marina walls, the sea returns to silence and preservation. This stretch of coast blends calm beaches with history. Santa Pansa marks the 1229 landing of King James I, the beginning of the Christian reconquest. Now its marina and quiet neighborhoods move to a gentler rhythm where echoes of conquest have softened into light. From these calm shores, the road begins to climb again, tracing the island’s edge toward western heights. At the island’s edge, the Miridor de la crowns a ridge high above Port Dondrax. Built as part of a 19th century defensive network, it later became a scenic lookout for travelers exploring by car in the 1950s. Below, pinecovered slopes descend to coes and eyelets bathed in endless light. It remains one of the island’s finest vantage points, a place to pause. Past the ridge, the land falls away, opening to sea and final horizon. Facing the open Balieric Sea, Santelm has long been the last outpost of the western coast. Just offshore lies the small Ela Pentaloo. Once a refuge for ships escaping storms, a fragment of maritime memory. From here, the uninhabited Dragon Era Island appears in the distance, now a protected nature reserve and former lookout against pirates. Along its cliffs, seabirds and Mediterranean pines share the wind-carved landscape. It is a fitting end to this stretch of journey where cliffs yield to open water and time itself begins to slow. From the islands far west, the coast bends southward. The cliffs soften. The mountains fall away and quiet coves begin to appear. Carved deep between ochre cliffs, Kalapi takes its name from the pine trees that shade its narrow inlet. During the Middle Ages, this cove served as a landing point for fishing boats and coastal centuries, watching for pirate sails. The 16th century tore dealapi still stands above the entrance, part of the island’s old defensive chain. Its calm turquoise waters still keep the sense of shelter that once meant survival. Farther along the cliffs, the coast opens wide, a long breath of light and sand. Stretching for nearly 3 kilome, S trench is the island’s wild heart and unspoiled dune system shaped by wind and tide. Its name comes from the Catalan trenar to break for the way storms once opened channels through the sand. Behind the beach lie the salt flats still producing floor dissolves trench by hand as they have since Roman times. Among the dunes grow sea lavender, tamarisque and glass wart, sheltering herand and plvers that rest before long flights. Here, nature and tradition blend into one. White salt, blue sea, endless sky. At the southernmost tip stands the Farro Deselinas. Built in 1863 to guide ships across open water. The landscape around it is bare but radiant. Low scrub, wind carved limestone, and the scent of sea lavender on the breeze. Between the rocks, tiny wild flowers, baleric lizards, and nesting seabirds endure the salt and heat. Life written in resilience. Here people say the island breathes through its lighouses. Beyond the light, cliffs rise again. Patient forms carved by time. A natural limestone arch known as Espontis spans the water like a gate between worlds. Sailors once used it as a landmark when approaching these coes. Now free climbers trace its vertical face high above the sea. A rare meeting of sport and stillness. Above the cliffs, seabirds nest on narrow ledges, their cries carried across the open air. The coast narrows again, the sea folding into smaller, quieter coes. Hidden between cliffs and pine forest, Kala Demorro feels secret and self-contained. The turquoise channel lies between pale walls of limestone where light ripples like glass. In the shallows, small fish weave through Posedonia Oceanica meadows, a living filter that keeps the water crystal clear and sustains the bay’s fragile balance. Still hard to reach, the cove remains one of the coast’s most intimate encounters between land and sea. Just beyond, another inlet opens, softer, touched by the same limestone light. A few coes north lies Kala es Lombard, a tranquil bay framed by pine trees and cliffs. The nearby village grew from farmers and stonemasons who once quarried the rock used in Palma’s great buildings. The color of that stone, pale honey under the sun, ties this quiet shore to the island’s monuments. Each wave seems to polish history itself. The coastline bends again. White holes appear. Traces of work and memory. Once a fishing settlement, Kalafagera still keeps the rhythm of daily labor and sea. Its narrow inlets curve inland like rivers, lined with whitewashed boatous and nets drying in the sun. Here, the Mediterranean feels close and human, a harbor of continuity and calm. Beyond the docks, the coast softens once more, where wilderness returns. Part of the Mondreo Natural Park, this twin bay landscape was declared a reserve in 1992 to protect its wetlands and migrating birds. Terrace farmland and pine forest descend to white sand and emerald water. Herands glide over the marsh and lizards flicker across warm stone. Dry stone walls trace centuries of coexistence between cultivation and coastline. The essence of rural life meeting the sea from wilderness to design. The journey turns toward a town shaped by light. In the 1930s, Ibizan artist and developer Yseph Costa Ferrer, known as Pickarole, envisioned a resort of whitewashed houses and narrow streets. Inspired by traditional Boleric villages, thus emerged Calidor, the Golden Cove, one of the earliest examples of Mediterranean modernism. Its calm geometry still holds the ideals of its founder. Simplicity, proportion, and seabbze clarity. From leisure to guidance, the path follows the towers that watch the sea. On the rugged Cape of Sauta, the Farro de Porto Cologne, built in 1863, guards one of Mayorca’s oldest natural harbors. Nearby lies the birthplace of Frey Uniperero Sarah, the missionary who later founded the California Missions. Far below, seabirds wheel over the waves, and at dawn, dolphins rise through still water. Around the tower, wild thyme and sea fennel cling to the rock, scenting the air with salt and sun. From here, trade and devotion once set their course toward distant shores. The road turns inland from sea to summit, from salt to stone. High above the plane of Felonyich, the S Salvador sanctuary watches over the land as it has since the 14th century. A winding road climbs to a cross and a statue of Christ visible for miles. Among the slopes grow cyprress and carob trees, their roots deep in rock and wind. Pilgrims once came here seeking silence, a tradition that still lingers in the hum of the breeze around the walls. From one height to another, the path continues. Faith mirrored across distance and time. Set on the hill of Montision, this 16th century sanctuary gathers church, cloister, and cypress trees under a wide sky. A treelined road climbs to stone arcades and a quiet courtyard. Below the plane spreads like a quilt of fields and villages. A place of pilgrimage and horizon where only wind and distance remain. The journey returns to the sea from silence to surf. Hidden among pine and cliff, Kalivarcus is one of the coast’s most secluded coes. Accessible only by foot or sea. It shelters caves hung with stelactites known to divers as Kova de Colom. that archaeological remains nearby show traces of ancient life. Proof that even millennia ago, people sought refuge in beauty. Beneath this shoreline lies another world, darker, slower, and alive with echoes. Beneath the eastern coast spreads the system of Quavas delra. Explored since the 14th century and mapped in 1896. Within lies Lake Martell, one of the world’s largest underground lakes, where music still drifts across the water. These caverns, shaped by time and tide, hold nature’s hidden architecture, a cathedral beneath the sea. Out of the depths, stone rises again. Built now for watchfulness, not wonder. Above the village, the Castell Decaptoper, built in 1300 for King James II, secured the island’s northeastern frontier. Dits walls once sheltered families during pirate raids, guarding both life and trade. From the battlements, watchfires once burned through the night, a warning carried by wind and flame. Now, wild herbs and ivy grow between the stones, softening what once stood in fear. From these heights, the view stretches endlessly. A panorama of land, light, and sea intertwined. Past the fortress walls, the coast dissolves into light. At the farthest edge of the island, the farro decaper rises from cliffs carved by wind and salt. Built from local limestone, its white tower guides ships through restless waters. Around the cliffs, gulls and sheer waters wheel in the air, their cries echoing over the expanse. Among the rocks, juniper shrubs and sea lavender hold fast. Small bursts of green against the seas vast blue. The glow lingers for a moment, then the sea takes it back. As the lighthouse fades behind the cliffs, the coastline turns north. The rocks give way to dunes, and the wind begins to shape the land once more. Where the coastline turns north, Kala Mosquita unfolds. A wide crescent of pale sand framed by dunes and pinecovered hills. The wind lingers here, carving soft patterns across the shore while the sea deepens from turquoise to cobalt at the horizon. Above the surf, gulls and sheer waters trace slow circles. The wild northeast beginning to breathe. Each wave carries the memory of the island’s raw beginnings. Untamed, solitary, and luminous. From this meeting of wind and sea, the path turns inland where stone and faith have long endured. Above the town rises the San Salvador sanctuary, enclosed by medieval walls that once shielded Arta from pirate attacks. From its terrace, the island unfolds, olive groves, rooftops, and the shimmer of distant sea. Built on a site of ancient worship, the sanctuary remains a beacon of faith overlooking the valley. As the bells fade, the view drifts downward from the heights of devotion to the narrow streets below, where daily life continues beneath the same enduring walls that life. Set in the Levant Hills, Arta keeps the quiet rhythm of another age. Narrow lanes of golden stone climb toward the church of the Transfigurio del Seenor, whose Gothic arches and carved rose window rise above the rooftops. Each step through the old town feels like walking through centuries of craft and belief. From faith to farmland, the path drifts west toward the island’s broad plains, where villages like Senu keep the pulse of tradition alive. At the heart of Mayorca’s plane lies Cineu, once the inland seat of King James II, where the island’s royal court sought calm away from the coast. From above, terracotta rooftops gather around the Gothic Church of Santa Maria. Its square bell tower watching over centuries of quiet devotion. The town’s narrow streets and Mars stone arches preserve the geometry of a medieval kingdom that once thrived here. Between the fields and the silent walls, time seems to hold its breath. The heart of Mayorca still beating softly beneath the sun. Beyond the golden wheat, the horizon opens, carrying the journey northward until the sea begins to glimmer again. Beyond the inland fields, the road reaches Playa Demiro, a long arc of white sand bordered by dunes and calm shallow water, stretching for nearly 4 miles along Mayorca’s north coast. It is one of the island’s longest and most untouched beaches. Fine sand, pine groves, and gentle surf make it a sanctuary of quiet light, a meeting point between farmland and sea. Behind the dunes begins Salufera Natural Park, the largest wetland in the Balieric Islands, protected since 1988 and spanning more than 5,000 acres of lagoons and reed beds. It shelters over 200 species of birds. Herand, egrets, flamingos, and many others moving through the light. Once a tidal marsh drained by Roman canals, it was reclaimed by nature, a living reminder of balance between land and water. Here, waves and wetlands share the same horizon. The heartbeat of Mayorca echoing softly between sea and sky. The wetlands fade behind, the horizon brightens, and the journey follows the curve of the coast northward. where the island meets the wind and the cliffs begin to rise. Once a quiet fishing village on Mayorca’s north coast, Khan pick grew along the wide curve of the Bay of Alcudia. Its prominade stretches beside pale sand and calm water where fishing boats once anchored at dawn. Founded in the late 1800s as a small settlement of Santa Margalita, it became a summer retreat. Sunlight, sea air, and slow hours carried by the breeze. Today, its streets still follow the rhythm of the tide, and the horizon opens endlessly beyond the bay. From here the shore bends east and quiet returns where waves slow against the rocks. Sunbao rests between golden sand and rocky outcrops that break the surf in slow rhythm. It forms part of the protected landscape of the Bay of Alcudia, a place where the island’s natural shape still breathes freely. From the dunes to the shallow sea, life continues beneath the surface. Seaggrass meadows sheltering fish, rays, and sea turtles drifting through the light. Here the wind softens, the sea keeps its timeless rhythm, and every wave seems to remember what has come before. Just off the coast of Alcudia lies the island of Alcanada, crowned by a 19th century lighthouse built in 1861. It still guides ships through the narrow mouth of the bay, a white tower among pine trees and shallow turquoise water. For generations, its light has marked the way home for sailors crossing the bay. On calm days, seabirds rest along the rocks and the only sound is the whisper of waves against the shore. As the light fades seawward, the horizon opens where the island meets the wind itself. Within medieval walls raised after the Catalin conquest, Alcudia gathers centuries of life behind stone gates. Its streets follow the traces of Roman palenia whose ruins still rest nearby. reminders of the city’s ancient heart. At its center rises the church of St. James, rebuilt in the 19th century upon Gothic foundations. Each arch and every bell echoes the resilience of faith that carried the town through siege and silence. Leaving the old walls behind, the road climbs again from the streets of memory toward the cliffs that face the open sea. A place where cliffs plunge more than 200 m into the sea. A panorama of limestone, wind, and light. From the Miridor Essome, the northwestern coast reveals itself in sharp ridges and endless blue. Here the island feels suspended between earth and air. Each gust carrying the scent of pine and salt. The viewpoint built in the 1960s by engineer Antonio Pieteti overlooks the small Kolomare island, once home to nesting doves that gave the place its name. The sound of the sea rises faintly from the depths. A distant pulse against the stone. It is one of Mayorca’s most breathtaking vistas. A meeting of stone, sky and horizon. Beyond this point, the road climbs higher toward the old watchtowwer that once guarded these heights. Built in the 16th century as part of Mayorca’s coastal defense line, the Alberutex Tower rises high above the Bay of Palenca. It was one of many watchtowers that warned the island of approaching Barbarie Corsaires. Its signal fires once visible for miles along the coast. Today, only the wind passes through its windows and falcons circle on the warm air rising from the cliffs below. It was road curves onward through pine and stone. At the island’s northernmost tip, more than 200 m above the sea, stands the forementor lighthouse, completed in 1863. Here the Traumantana cliffs fall abruptly into deep blue and the air trembles with wind and salt. Its construction was among the most demanding in Mayorca. The materials carried up by mule through steep winding paths. It was built to guide ships through one of the Mediterranean’s most treacherous routes, where storms and darkness often hid the cliffs from sight. For sailors of the 19th century, its light meant land, safety, and home. Seen from above, the island unfolds in ridges of stone and light stretching endlessly southward. Far below the cliffs, the sea lies quiet. A mirror of the sky and the memory of distant bays. Sheltered by pines and steep cliffs. Playa deform curves gently along the bay’s edge. Its clear waters and pale sand have long drawn writers, artists, and travelers in search of calm. Here the sea quiets, waves turning to whispers beneath the trees. From this tranquil shore, the road bends inland, climbing once more toward the sanctuaries above. At the northern edge of Mayorca lies Palenca, a medieval town of golden Marz stone and winding lanes first shaped after the Catalan reconquest. Its narrow streets still follow the rhythm of the 13th century where traders, sailors, and artisans once filled the squares. From the main square, the calvari steps rise 365 stone stairs leading to a small chapel overlooking the bay. High above the town stands the sanctuary of Puig de Maria. Founded in the 14th century by Dominican nuns seeking refuge from the plague. It became the island’s first convent for women and a place of silence that has endured for centuries. From its terrace, the view extends across the twin bays of Alcudia and Palencia, framed by mountains and sea. As bells echo faintly across the plane, the path descends again toward the town that carries the island’s northern soul and the road that winds west toward the tramantana at the entrance to Port Soyer. The Cap Grow Lighthouse stands on its rocky promontory, guiding ships through the bay since 1859. It was built to protect sailors navigating one of Mayorca’s most rugged coasts, where sudden storms once turned safe passage into peril. Below the harbor curves like a natural amphitheater of sea and stone, embraced by the rising folds of the traumontana. For centuries, this bay was the island’s northern lifeline, the only safe refuge for vessels trading citrus and olive oil across the Mediterranean. For even fishing boats still anchor here, their wakes tracing gentle lines across the calm water, while the air carries the scent of salt and orange blossoms from the nearby valley. Terraces of olive and lemon climb toward the old town, resting quietly beneath tiled roofs. Here sea and mountain meet in calm balance. A pause before the road narrows again into the high passes of the traumontana. A winding road cuts through cliffs and terraces of stone, twisting downward toward a hidden shore. Built in the early 20th century, the route to Sakalabra is a marvel of mountain engineering. A ribbon of asphalt that coils through the traumontana like a serpent of light. Each curve reveals a new horizon. Limestone peaks, deep ravines, and the shimmer of the sea far below. The air grows cooler as the road narrows, echoing with the hum of wind and distant waves. At last, the cliffs open to a small cove. Turquoise water enclosed by walls of rock that rise like guardians from the deep. Here the island seems to fold into itself a secret amphitheater where mountain and sea meet in stillness. From this quiet shore, a narrow passage leads inland. A crack in the cliffs drawing you toward the sound of water. There the torrent dearies begins. A hidden gorge carved by centuries of rain where the mountains divide and the river meets the sea. Two colossal walls rised in the sea to begin their surfaces etched with the slow memory of water and wind. The air feels cooler, the sound sharper, the echo of every step returning from stone to sky. In the heart of the gorge, time seems to stand still. Each ripple of light on the rock carrying the weight of ages. It is one of Mayorca’s grandest natural monuments. A cathedral not built but born. As sunlight drifts across the canyon, the stone glows gold and amber and the silence deepens. Vast, ancient, and alive. Missing. Among the highest folds of the Tramantana lies Gorg Blau, a deep blue reservoir reflecting the rugged beauty of the mountains. Once a natural lake, it was damned in the early 20th century to secure fresh water for Palma and the surrounding towns. Its creation transformed the valley, turning an ancient hollow into a quiet mirror for the sky. When engineers carved tunnels through the mountains to channel its flow, a rare union of human design and natural form. Today, it remains a symbol of balance between necessity and preservation, a modern lifeline within ancient stone. The still surface mirrors clouds and cliffs alike, blurring sky and mountain into one. Beyond its shores, the road winds downward again, tracing a slow descent through valleys and olive groves toward the distant sea. The rocky peninsula of Saurodada, meaning the hold one, is famous for its natural arch carved by centuries of wind and sea. It once belonged to Archduke Ludwig Salvatore of Austria who purchased much of the Trauntana coastline in the late 19th century to protect it from development. The Archduke often reached Saw Foradatada by sea on his private boat, keeping a small landing pier below the cliffs. Today, the viewpoint remains one of Mayorca’s most photographed places, offering panoramic views. Surrounded by forested mountains, Valdemosa preserves its medieval layout and traditional stone architecture. The Carthusian Monastery, founded in 1399, became world famous when Frederick Shopan and George Sand spent the winter of 1838 to39 here, where Shopan composed several of his preludes. The village is also the birthplace of St. Catalina Tomas, Mayorca’s only canonized saint, whose house can still be visited today. is cool mountain climate, narrow streets, and flowered balconies make Valdemosa one of the island’s most visited and emblematic towns. Nestled between mountain and sea, Dea is a small village whose origins date back to Moorish times when terraces and irrigation channels were first built along its steep slopes. In the early 20th century, it became a refuge for writers, painters, and musicians drawn by its isolation and its light. The British poet and novelist Robert Graves settled here in 1929, turning the village into a center of artistic life that still endures today. Stone houses, olive groves, and sea views blend into a single landscape that has long inspired those seeking beauty and quiet reflection. Terraces of stone descend toward the sea. This is Bal Bufar, a village whose name comes from Arabic meaning vineyard by the sea. Founded during Moorish rule in the 10th century, it became known for its ingenious irrigation system of aqueducts and stone channels that still function today. The village is famous for its Malvazia wine cultivated on terraces that seem to hang above the Mediterranean. Here the scent of salt mingles with earth and grape, and the light of the afternoon drifts slowly over the seawalled fields below. Built in 1579 as part of Mayorca’s coastal defense network, the Tore deser also known as the tower of souls. once warned of barbar pirate attacks approaching from the sea. Its stone walls have endured centuries of wind and storms overlooking the rugged cliffs of Banal Bufar and the open Balieric horizon. Today the tower stands as both a historic watch point and one of the most iconic viewpoints of the Tramontana. Here vigilance has turned to beauty. Gulls circle in the wind. Waves break far below. And the coastline glows in the fading light. As dusk falls, the mountains dissolve into the sea and the island exhales into stillness, waiting for the next dawn. Smaller and more reserved than its sister, Mayorca, Minorca unfolds in limestone cliffs, hidden coes, and quiet pine forests where time still moves with the wind. Declared a UNESCO biosphere reserve in 1993, the island protects a landscape where prehistoric monuments, whitewashed villages, and turquoise seas coexist in fragile harmony. From the ancient talleotic stones to the watchful lighouses that mark its coast, Minorca carries the memory of every civilization that sought shelter on its shores. Phoenician, Roman, Moorish, and Catalan. As the journey drifts eastward, the land softens and the sea widens, guiding us toward the island’s capital and the gateway to its storied harbor. Sheltered within one of the world’s largest natural harbors, the port of Mao has been Minorca’s lifeline for over two millennia. Founded by the Carthaginians and expanded by the British in the 18th century, its deep blue waters have hosted fleets, merchants, and empires. The old keys now echo with sailboats and open air cafes where the scent of salt and lemon drifts through narrow lanes. From the fortress of Lamola, the horizon opens northward. Just beyond Mao lies Esso, a fishing village embraced by dunes, pine forests, and the calm waters of its lagoon. Protected within the park natural des Saluera degra, this area shelters herand, ospreys and flamingos that rest among reeds and tamarisque trees. Once used for salt production, the lagoon now reflects the balance between land and sea that defines Monorca’s essence. A coastal path winds east toward the untouched sands where civilization fades into wilderness. Accessible only by foot or by sea. Platcha desaturetta reveals Minorca at its purest. A wide arc of golden sand bordered by aromatic scrub and low cliffs. The air is scented with Mediterranean thyme, rocks, and juniper mingling softly with the murmur of distant waves. Archaeological traces nearby recall ancient watchtowers once guarding this silent coast from pirates of the past. Beyond its dunes rises the dark silhouette of Favarich Lighthouse, standing stark and solitary against the pale sky. In the lunar landscape of Capavarich, the land turns to slate and the air feels older, heavier with sea spray. The built in 1922, the lighthouse stands over a coast of metamorphic rock, a rare geology that gives the headland its haunting beauty. Storms often crash here with ferocity, shaping pools where seabirds and salt loving plants endure. As the road bends west, cliffs and windswept hills lead deeper into Monorca’s northern frontier. Rising above the cliffs near Cap Deavarich, the Tore de Kolomar once guarded Monorca’s eastern approaches from corsairs and foreign fleets. Built by the British in the 18th century, its thick limestone walls still face the relentless tramontana wind that sculpts the coast. Around it grow mastic, rosemary and wild olive trees, species rooted in salt and silence. From this solitary post, the land opens toward a vast inlet where the sea begins to rest. At the island’s midpoint, Fornell’s unfolds in whitewashed houses that seem to float above turquoise water. Its deep bay, once used as an anchorage for privateeers and royal fleets, now shelters fishermen and sailors drawn by its serenity. Here the seagrasses of Pedonia Oceanica sway beneath the boats, nurturing octopus and seabbream in their hidden prairies. Beyond the curve of the village, a stone tower still watches quietly over the bay. Constructed in 1801 under British rule, the Tore deforels remains one of the island’s most imposing coastal fortifications. Built from golden marz sandstone, it defended the entrance to the harbor from pirate incursions and rival powers. From its battlements, the sea stretches north toward the horizon, where gulls trace circles in the wind. From westward, the cliffs grow higher and wilder, guiding the path toward the lonely inlets beyond. Hidden within the northern headlands, Kala Viola Deilant is a secret inlet shaped by centuries of erosion. Its pebbled shore and crystalline waters reflect the raw, untamed spirit of Manorca’s northern coast. No roads reach here easily, only narrow trails through time, heather, and dwarf palms that bend beneath the seab breeze. From this solitude, the route climbs toward the towering cliffs of Cap Deavaleria. Perched 90 m above the sea, the Farro de Cavaleria guards the northernmost tip of Monorca, where cliffs plunge into deep cobalt water. Since 1857, its beam has guided sailors through one of the island’s most perilous coasts. Once notorious for shipwrecks, it’s the surrounding cape carpeted with juniper and wild fennel faces winds so strong they bend every shrub toward the south. Below the cliffs lies a quiet harbor once used by ancient traders. In the quiet cove of Senicha, fragments of keys and empori mark the site of the Roman port of Sancti Sanctive 2,000 years ago. Fishermen still launch their boats from the same calm inlet where corrants dive through silver water at dawn. The sea here carries a stillness that feels older than memory. A hush between past and tide. Beyond its shore, red sands shimmer in the distance, calling the traveler westward. Unlike any other beach on Minorca, Kala Praanda glows with ochre colored sand and sculpted rock formations that resemble another planet. Its warm tones come from ironrich minerals eroded from the hills of S Merkodol, giving the cove its surreal pallet. Marine life thrives in the protected bay. Seabbream, rass, and starfish drifting above coralike stone. Beyond its headland, the coastal path winds through pine and rosemary toward the wild seclusion. Reached only by a long trail through whole forest, Calipilar feels untouched by time. Its beach of fine red clay was once used by locals for natural skin care rituals, blending earth and sea in quiet harmony. Falcons circle above the dunes lined with mastic and cystus shrubs. And the only sound is the slow breathing of the waves. As the path continues west, the cliffs ahead rise in quiet majesty where the landscape softens into green valleys and twin beaches of pale sand. Tucked within a green valley of holmokes and dunes, Laval Algyins unfolds in quiet harmony. Two beaches divided by a low rocky promontory. The first playa de tankat is broad and serene while playa deboot lies hidden behind pine groves and shallow lagoons. This area belongs to a protected reserve where herand kestrels and wild rabbits find shelter among tamarisks and sea liies. As the sand narrows westward, rocky cliffs begin to rise, guiding the traveler towards sculpted coves where time and tide have carved their memory into stone. Enclosed by curved limestone cliffs, Kalamorel forms a natural amphitheater where sea and rock meet in perfect symmetry. Its crystalline waters shift from turquoise to indigo as the sun arcs above, revealing submerged ledges carved by centuries of waves. White houses perch along the slopes like quiet sentinels overlooking the cove, blending architecture and landscape into one continuous line of harmony. From its headland, a coastal path follows the rugged shore, leading to a place where the cliffs open to the sea. Erosion has sculpted the cliffs into the stone arch of Pont Donil, a gateway carved by the patient strength of the Mediterranean. Divers and boats pass beneath it, tracing the horizon, framed by light and silence. At sunset, the arch becomes a silhouette of gold against a violet sea. One of Minorca’s most haunting vistas. Further south, the land flattens and a distant beam pierces the dusk, marking the approach to ancient Sudadella. Standing on a barren plateau of dry stone and thorny scrub, Punta Nati Lighthouse was built in 1913 after a series of tragic shipwrecks. Its stark silhouette rises from a desert of limestone where only goats, larks, and hearty fennel survive the fierce Tramontana winds. The horizon here feels infinite. A place where clouds and sea merge into one pale line. From this solitude, the route descends toward the island’s western heart. Its ancient soul carved in stone, a final bastion of memory and time. Once the seat of Minorca’s bishops and governors, Sutadella remains a labyrinth of palaces, churches, and cobbled alleys bathed in amber light. Its port, narrow and deep, has been active since Phoenician times, later fortified by the Catalans and scarred by Turkish invasions in the 16th century. its port. Stone facades glow at dusk as bells echo across plazas scented with jasmine and sea air. From its southern outskirts, the road curves gently toward the coast, where the medieval city gives way to calm waters and the rhythm of modern life. Only a few minutes from Sudadella, Kala Santandria opens between low cliffs topped with pine and tamarisque. Once a small fishing inlet, it now blends gentle tourism with quiet traces of its maritime past. White boats anchored over turquoise glass. Beneath the surface, underwater meadows of Posidonia sway like green silk, sheltering octopus, and small shors of guilt head bream. Beyond the cove, the path continues to a cove where the shoreline folds into warmer hues and narrower channels of light. Sheltered from the open sea by natural rock arms, Sakaletta is a tranquil corner where the tide moves almost without sound. The beach’s fine sand and shallow depth make it a favorite among locals who come for quiet evening swims. Here, limestone meets the pale glow of sunset, reflecting the last warmth before the coast bends again. At its far edge, the first glimpse of a lighthouse appears, guiding travelers westward toward the island’s farthest point. Standing at Monorca’s southwestern Cape, the Farro de Arouch marks the meeting of two seas and centuries of navigation. Built in 1859 and later heightened with its black and white stripes, it watches over the channel that separates Minorca from Mayorca. The scent of salt and rosemary fills the air as waves break below against volcanic rock. From its terrace, the journey turns east again, following the bright ribbon of coast. Tucked within steep cliffs of golden limestone, Kala Macakaretta appears like a secret the sea still keeps. Accessible only by a winding trail through pine and wild olive, it mirrors its larger sister, Kala Macarella, in a smaller, quieter ark of turquoise. The water here is so clear it seems to suspend sunlight itself, revealing ripples of sand and flashes of fish below. Following the coastal path west, the forest opens once more. Encircled by smooth cliffs and dense pines, Estalier is a miniature paradise where silence carries farther than sound. Its beach glows almost silver at midday, and the water deepens into translucent emerald under the sun’s slow descent. Dragon flies hover over pools left by the tide, and the air smells of resin and salt. Beyond the ridge, a higher path overlooks two hidden amphitheaters of sea and stone. From the viewpoint above Kalamitana, the forest falls away, revealing one of Minorca’s most iconic seascapes. Twin coes separated by cliffs of pure limestone. Their names meaning middle and little middle echo the balance of proportion that defines this southern coastline. The wild goats graze among lentisk and rosemary and the breeze carries the scent of pine needles warmed by sun. Stretching wide beneath rolling dunes, Platcha de Bella Vista embodies the openness of Minorca’s southern coast. Its sands shimmer beneath a curtain of windshaped grasses where sea holly and sandlies bloom through the heat of summer. Once a quiet pasture land, the beach now links protected wetlands to the transparent waters of the Mediterranean. And following the shoreline east, a white ark appears, the island’s longest ribbon of sand. At nearly 3 kilometers long, Sunbo is both a sanctuary of leisure and a fragile ecosystem of shifting dunes and brackish ponds. Remnants of a fifth century Paleochristian Basilica still rest near the shore, recalling the first Christian settlers of the island. Behind the dunes, reeds shelter more hens and egrets that glide quietly between freshwater pools. Toward the horizon, the land rises gently inland, where stone keeps an older memory than sand. and tide. Inland memory becomes architecture from the whisper of dunes to the weight of prehistory. Scattered across the countryside, these talotic monuments preserve the island’s oldest voice in stone. The Neveta de Tudon built around 1200 B.CE CE served as a collective tomb while the Tala and Taliot of Trepuko still display ritual symmetry between earth and sky. As the light fades over these silent ruins, prehistory loosens its hold and the island’s cliffs call us back to the edge of the sea. From the ancient terraces of Tore Don Gomez, the path descends once more toward the sea. Here, where the island’s first inhabitants once looked out, across the horizon rises Safalonra, a limestone ridge alive with the cries of falcons and swallows. Below it lies Kala Yukalari, a secluded bay of pebbles and emerald water framed by cliffs draped in rosemary and thyme. The same wind that once crossed the stone sanctuaries now sweeps through these heights, carrying echoes of ritual and time. In this meeting of rock and sea, Minorca’s spirit feels whole again. Ancient as the stones above, eternal as the tide below. Across these islands, history and horizon meet. From Ibiza’s cliffs to Monorca’s quiet coes, the scent of pine, salt, and sun endures. A reminder that beauty here is both human and eternal. As the Balaric Sea turns to gold, the islands remain whispering stories that never end. Thank you for being part of this unforgettable journey. This is World Adventure OS. Travel with us. Like what you saw? Give it a like, subscribe, and turn on alerts for more breathtaking content.
We just got back from the Balearic Islands, Ibiza, Formentera, Mallorca, and Menorca — and we are still not over it.
This isn’t some drone-heavy highlight reel. This is 2+ hours of pure immersion: golden hour light, drum circles at sunset, hidden coves you can only reach by boat, and medieval walls glowing pink at dusk.
We chased the light and hiked cliffs at 5 AM. We got lost in pine forests, but we managed to film every second in 4K so you can feel like you’re right there with us.
Here’s what’s waiting for you:
Formentera – the “last paradise.”
Ses Illetes’ white sand and glass-clear water. Cala Saona’s red cliffs at sunset. Espalmador’s silent turquoise and natural mud baths.
Menorca – quiet, wild, full of secrets.
Cala Macarelleta’s hidden path, Pregonda’s red sands like Mars, Ciutadella’s golden-hour glow, and ancient Talayotic stones older than Stonehenge.
Mallorca – dramatic, diverse, epic.
Sa Calobra and Torrent de Pareis, the cathedral of stone. Formentor’s 200-meter cliffs. Valldemossa at sunrise. La Seu Cathedral’s light through the rose window.
Ibiza – not just parties.
Es Vedrà at dawn feels magical. Atlantis’ emerald pools, Benirràs’ sunset drums, and Dalt Vila’s pirate walls watching over the sea.
Four islands. Endless light. One Mediterranean soul.
This film is for you if:
You’re planning a 2025 Balearic trip and want the real spots
You love cinematic travel films with no talking, just nature and music
You want to feel the islands before you go, the salt air, the warm stone, the golden light
💛 World Adventure OS
We make these films because we believe travel changes you, and sometimes, just watching can too.
If this made you want to book a ferry, drop a LIKE, SUBSCRIBE, and hit the bell 🔔, next up: Greek Islands, Amalfi, Canary Islands
💬 COMMENT below: Which island are you visiting first?
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Full timestamps + every location in the description ↓
#BalearicIslands #Ibiza #Mallorca #Menorca #Formentera #SpainTravel #4KTravel #islandhopping
00:00 The Balearic Archipelago
01:47 Sa Pedrera de Cala d’Hort
02:37 Cala Comte
03:52 Ses Salines
04:42 Cala Tarida
06:03 Cala Benirràs
07:09 Ibiza town Castell
07:56 Dalt Vila
08:45 Ibiza Harbor
09:47 Sant Antoni de Portmany
10:38 Punta Grossa Lighthouse
11:40 Sa Figuera Borda Cave
12:40 Aubarca Bay
14:02 Cala Llentrisca
15:03 Es Vedrà
16:16 Pellar des Camp
17:44 Sa Conillera Lighthouse
19:09 Illa de Tagomago
20:25 Torre de Ses Portes
20:40 Torre des Molar
21:01 Torre des Savinar
21:21 Torre d’en Rovira
22:07 Formentera
22:31 Iconic Beaches of Formentera
23:47 Ses Illetes
25:00 Caló d’Es Mort
26:11 Cala Saona Bay
27:20 Far de Barbaria
28:10 Torre des Garroveret
29:36 Historic White Tower
29:37 Espalmador
30:47 Puerto de La Savina
31:48 Mallorca
32:35 Palma Cityscape
33:45 Palma Bay & Skyline
34:55 Palma Harbor
36:02 La Seu – Cathedral of Palma
37:47 Castell de Bellver
39:09 Cala Falco & Cala Bella Dona
40:09 Portals Vells Caves
41:30 Portals Vells
42:26 El Toro & Port Adriano
43:42 Santa Ponça
44:30 Mirador de la Mola
45:51 Sant Elm & Isla Pantaleu
47:13 Cala Pi
48:33 Es Trenc Beach
49:48 Cap de Ses Salines
50:52 Es Pontàs Arch
52:11 Cala des Moro
53:41 Cala Es Llombards
54:52 Cala Figuera
55:54 Cala Mondragó Beach
57:50 Cala d’Or
58:44 Portocolom Lighthouse
1:00:07 Sant Salvador Sanctuary
1:01:24 Monti-sion Sanctuary
1:02:22 Cala Varques
1:03:46 Cuevas del Drach
1:04:50 Castell de Capdepera
1:06:03 Capdepera Lighthouse
1:07:28 Cala Mesquida
1:08:57 Sant Salvador Sanctuary
1:10:27 Artà Old Town
1:11:15 Sineu
1:12:42 Playa de Muro & Albufera Natural Park
1:15:09 Can Picafort
1:16:34 Son Bauló
1:17:46 Alcanada Lighthouse
1:19:05 Alcúdia Old Town
1:20:41 Mirador D’es Colomer
1:22:26 Albercutx Tower
1:23:28 Formentor Lighthouse
1:25:21 Playa de Formentor
1:26:25 Pollença
1:28:30 Port de Sóller Bay
1:30:59 Sa Calobra
1:32:43 Torrent de Pareis
1:34:32 Gorg Blau Lake
1:36:23 Sa Foradada
1:37:35 Valldemossa
1:38:52 Deià
1:40:17 Banyalbufar Village
1:41:35 Torre des Verger
1:42:58 Menorca
1:44:25 Port of Maó
1:45:26 Es Grau
1:46:36 Platja de sa Torreta
1:47:46 Favàritx Lighthouse
1:48:56 Torre d’Es Colomar
1:50:06 Fornells Harbor and Bay
1:51:16 Torre de Fornells
1:52:17 Cala Viola de Llevant
1:53:19 Cavalleria Lighthouse
1:54:29 Sanitja Harbor
1:55:35 Cala Pregonda
1:56:45 Cala Pilar
1:58:01 La Vall Algaiarens Beach
1:59:15 Cala Morell
2:00:34 Pont d’en Gil
2:01:47 Punta Nati Lighthouse
2:03:03 Ciutadella de Menorca
2:04:24 Cala Santandria
2:05:40 Sa Caleta Cove
2:06:40 Artrutx Lighthouse
2:07:52 Cala Macarelleta
2:09:02 Son Saura Beach
2:10:15 Es Talaier Cove
2:11:21 Cala Mitjana & Mitjaneta
2:12:15 Platja de Bellavista
2:13:15 Son Bou Beach
2:14:36 Megalithic Formations
2:15:26 Sa Falconera and Cala Llucalari
2:17:01 The Eternal Rhythm of the Balearic Sea