Staying Instead of Returning: How Anett Keeps Playa de Palma Together with Her Sun Bakery

Staying Instead of Returning: How Anett Keeps Playa de Palma Together with Her Sun Bakery

A German woman, her sourdough and the morning on Calle Acapulco

When the first delivery vans are still asleep and the sun over Playa de Palma is just starting to silver the sea, a small bakery opens its doors at Calle Acapulco 4. The smell of fresh bread pours out of the shop, quiet Spanish music plays on the radio, and tradespeople, residents and tourists queue up. Behind the counter stands Anett, who came here about fifteen years ago and now runs the Sun Bakery.

She didn't arrive overnight: her husband had opened the business in 2000, and seven years later Anett moved to Mallorca permanently. Before that she had stops in Germany and even Hungary; the island quickly became her refuge. Her son was born here and is now 16 — one reason she never regretted the decision. For her, Mallorca is not just a holiday destination but an everyday life where childhood feels different: children cycling to school, neighbors looking out for each other, short walks to the sea.

The Sun Bakery is not an exclusive gourmet shop but a business with a clear identity: German bread and baked goods, hearty offerings from its own kitchen and a small but reliable bakehouse. A café con leche costs €1.80; that's no accident but a deliberate choice — prices are set with the people who live here in mind. In the pre-Christmas season many locals who like a German-style breakfast come by; Anett estimates that up to 70 percent of customers then come from the neighborhood.

A core element of the bakery is the sourdough: the starter culture has been in use practically since the shop's founding. In winter the starter is refreshed twice weekly, in summer almost daily because demand increases. From the basic dough come variations with nuts or sunflower seeds — nothing industrial, much made by hand. The team also fulfills orders from 120 Weckmänner for St. Martin's Day to several hundred jelly doughnuts for schools and provides catering for boats along the coast.

Language-wise, Anett embraced life here: within a few years of her arrival she learned Spanish so conversations with childcare workers, customers and suppliers are now normal. If a customer speaks Catalan to her, she laughs and will sometimes send her son — the ice melts quickly. For her, integration was not a problem but a practical decision: childcare in Spanish helped her practice the language fast.

What makes everyday life on Mallorca, Anett says, can be described with simple images: the sea on the doorstep, free weekends in the mountains, orange groves in Sóller in winter. At the same time she admits openly that sometimes you have to work harder here to reach the same economic level as in Germany. For her that's not a disadvantage but a compromise balanced by quality of life — more flexible days with more time for family and the landscape.

The Sun Bakery is in many ways a piece of neighborhood: here a construction worker meets the bank manager, the dog owner and the young parents before their shift. It's the small rituals — the first coffee, the roll on Sunday morning — that make the place a meeting point. Anett deliberately focuses on tradition and affordability without compromising on artisanal quality.

Looking ahead: Anett plans to keep the range focused on sourdough, train young bakers and again offer special dishes like roasted duck legs on Advent weekends. For the island this is more than a business; it's a model of how migration and craft together create a piece of everyday life that combines neighborhood reliability, flavour and affordable prices.

Anyone walking down Calle Acapulco in the morning hears the clatter of cups, the brief chat among regulars and the soft hum of the coffee machine. Scenes like these tell more about life on Mallorca than any statistic: it's places like this that shape everyday island life — and people like Anett who keep it running.