Ursula Day in Mallorca: Buñuelos, Carnations and the Little Serenades on October 21

A scent between cinnamon, fried dough and early coffee

When the morning on October 21 in Mallorca becomes a little gentler, it is rarely due to the weather alone. Ursula Day — often called Dia de les verges here — has something familiar: no big parade, no event program, but the small, very real theater of everyday life. Dishes clink at the markets, delivery vans hum by, children run off with still-warm plastic bags, and the air smells of buñuelos and a pinch of cinnamon.

Buñuelos: The secret stars at market stalls and bakery counters

Buñuelos can be found everywhere on this day: at permanent stalls on Playa de Palma, in front of the well-known bakery in Inca, or around the FAN shopping center in Palma. Crispy on the outside, airy inside, often dusted with powdered sugar — and sometimes with a hint of anise or lemon zest in the dough. Those out and about in the morning see the queues in front of bakeries and hear the quiet conversations of people waiting to get their warm pastry.

My advice: Arrive early, have small change ready and find a spot with a view of the scene. Eating a buñuelo with coffee on a bench while the city slowly wakes up and the market criers start to sing — that's a tiny holiday from everyday life. And for the adventurous: look out for versions with cinnamon or anise, it's worth it.

Nights and carnations: the small ritual of affection

The finest gesture of the day is simple: a little serenade, a clumsily played melody, a brief stop at a front door. The performance is often rewarded with a carnation. It's not grand romance, more a familiar game of courage and cheekiness. You see men strolling through the alleys with slightly flushed cheeks, older ladies loudly comparing recipes, and children trying to sneak away with a carnation tucked into a jacket unnoticed.

These small scenes are important for Mallorca because they show cohesion — not as folklore for tourists, but as lived neighborhood life. They remind us that public spaces here are not anonymous backdrops but places where people recognize each other and laugh together.

How to join in: simple rules for the curious

Ursula Day doesn't require a ticket. Openness is enough. A friendly smile, some small change, the willingness to listen or join in singing — and you're part of it. Bakeries often set up extra stalls; the longest queues reveal where it's freshest. If you want to enjoy the day, walk slowly, keep your eyes open for impromptu musicians and don't hesitate to share a buñuelo with strangers.

Why this is good for Mallorca: Days like this strengthen local business cycles, bring people onto the streets and preserve craft traditions. In a time when much is digitized and standardized, Ursula Day remains a day of sensual encounters — warm, loud, sweet and honest.

On an early morning in Inca, when the first steam rose from the bakery and two tourists clapped with delight, the island felt closer than many a brochure. These small gestures, the carnations, the buñuelos and the off-key songs are not museum pieces — they are everyday life, and that is exactly what makes them beautiful.

Have you ever been to Ursula Day? Write to me with your favorite address for buñuelos — I still have a few insider tips I'm happy to share.