THE TRIP
Visited
Basis
Updated
The short answer
At a glance
Caló des Moro at the hour you should not be there.
The water really is that colour, I promise. The only trouble is that everybody now knows it.
The southeast corner of Mallorca, between Santanyí and Cap de Ses Salines, is cut into dozens of tiny inlets, calós, where the limestone drops straight into water that goes an improbable, swimming-pool turquoise. They’re small, most of them have no sand to speak of, and you reach them down rough paths rather than from a car park. That’s exactly why they’re so good, and also why the famous ones now have a queue down the steps by ten in the morning. So here’s which ones I’d bother with, in what order, and when to turn up.
Cala s’Almunia, where you get in off the rock rather than off a beach.
The old fishermen’s huts, still in use.
The famous one
Caló des Moro. This is the photograph that sold Mallorca to the internet: a slot of white sand maybe thirty metres across, with water so clear the boats look like they’re floating on air. You reach it down a rough, unmarked scramble from the road, and there’s no shade, no bar and no lifeguard. In July it holds several hundred people on a beach that comfortably takes forty, and the residents of Santanyí have made their feelings about this very clear, which I completely understand. Go at eight in the morning, or go in May or October, or honestly, don’t go.
The better one, thirty seconds away
Cala s’Almunia. The next inlet along, and the one I’d actually choose. There’s no sand at all; instead you get wooden boat ramps, a handful of whitewashed fishermen’s huts built into the rock, and steps down into deep, clear water. You swim off the stone rather than wading in, which puts off just enough people to keep it civilised. Bring reef shoes, and watch where you leave your towel when a boat comes in.
The one with actual sand
Cala Llombards. Pines, a proper crescent of sand, a small boathouse at one end, a beach bar and, crucially, a car park. This is where I’d send you if you want a whole lazy day rather than a swim and a scramble, or if you have children who need somewhere to put a towel.
The one that isn’t for swimming
Cala Figuera. A working fishing village rather than a beach, with boathouses on stilts along a long, narrow inlet and the fleet still going out. Come in the early evening, walk the two arms of the harbour, and eat fish at the top. It’s the prettiest hour on this coast, and nobody’s in a swimsuit.
The one with the arch
Cala Santanyí, and the walk from it out to Es Pontàs, a natural rock arch standing out of the sea that’s famous among climbers as a deep-water solo. It’s twenty minutes on a clifftop path, and the view back is the best on this stretch, so do bring your camera.
The one for a full day
Mondragó and S’Amarador. They’re inside a natural park, so the development stops at the edge: two linked sandy bays, dunes, a path between them, and enough space to still be pleasant in August. It’s the compromise choice that nobody regrets.
And in Palma
The city beaches are fine rather than special. If you’re staying in town, skip them and head to Portixol or El Molinar instead. Swim off the rocks where the locals do, then have breakfast on the seafront; it’s a better morning than the drive out to anywhere.
The one most people miss
Es Caragól, down near Cap de Ses Salines at the island’s southern tip. It takes a twenty-minute walk from the road through low scrub to reach it, and that walk is the entire reason it stays empty: no bar, no loungers, no shade, just a long pale beach, shallow water and usually a handful of people. Take water, a hat and lunch. It’s the closest thing left on Mallorca to having a beach to yourself in August, and that feeling is worth every step.
A few rules that make all of this work. Go early – before nine, not before eleven. Every one of these fills from mid-morning and the car parks fill before the beaches do. Wear something on your feet, because the paths are sharp limestone and the entries are rock. Take everything out with you, including the fruit peel; these coves have no bins for a reason and the local feeling about visitors is not improving. And go in May, June, late September or October if you have any choice at all. The water is at its warmest in September, the light is better, and you will have room to put a towel down.
Asked often
Where is Cala s’Almunia?
The next inlet along from Caló des Moro, on Mallorca’s southeast coast between Santanyí and Cap de Ses Salines. It is the one I would choose: no sand, wooden boat ramps, whitewashed fishermen’s huts and steps into deep, clear water.
Are these the best beaches in Palma de Mallorca?
No. These are rocky inlets on the southeast coast, a drive from the city, not Palma’s city beaches. It is about an hour by car from Palma.
Do you need tickets for Caló des Moro?
There is no ticket in my notes, and none of the recent guides I checked mention one for the beach itself. The limits are the rough path down, the parking, which is a handful of spaces on residential streets, and the queue, so go at eight in the morning or in May or October. Parking around Cala Llombards is contested: residents-only streets came in during 2022 and, as of August 2026, local campaigners say cars are still parking where they shouldn’t, so read the signs and arrive early.
When should I go?
Before nine, not before eleven, and in May, June, late September or October if you have any choice. The water is warmest in September.
What should I take?
Shoes for your feet, because the paths are sharp limestone and the entries are rock, and everything out with you, fruit peel included.
Lunch afterwards, which is the other half of the day.