7 July 2025 - In: alcudia night, night photoraphy, Street Photography, Quiet Moments, Summer in Spain, Solitude, After Hours
A sleepless summer night leads to a quiet photographic walk through Alcudia’s old town. Discover Mallorca after dark—empty streets, soft light, and silent stories.
Alcudia After Hours
Revealing the island one frame at a time
It’s June 27th, just after 2:30 in the morning, and the heat is unbearable.
Our old air conditioning wheezes its usual half-hearted effort, barely cooling the thick, motionless air. I lie awake, struggling to breathe properly, listening to the gentle rhythm of my partner’s sleep—and feeling quietly envious. After a few more restless minutes, I give in. The camera bag is packed in silence, a quick coffee made in the half-dark, and by 3 a.m., I’m standing in the heart of Alcudia’s old town with a tripod under one arm and no plan beyond simply walking.
A Silent City
Just twelve hours ago, these streets buzzed with life—tourists, shopkeepers, cyclists, waiters weaving through tables, and the usual soundtrack of summer. Now, it's transformed. A strange mix of cold LED and amber sodium light spills over centuries-old stone, casting long shadows and giving the town an almost stage-like quality. It's eerie, but beautiful. The silence is thick—almost oppressive—punctuated only by the occasional squeak of a shutter or the scrape of my shoes on the stone.
I frame my first shot: a 15-second exposure at f/9. The light, the emptiness, the mood—it all comes together. It feels like the town is holding its breath
A City of Cats
As I move deeper into the labyrinth of narrow alleys, I realise I’m not alone. Not with people—there are very few of those—but with cats. They appear on nearly every street: lounging, prowling, watching. They own the night here. A quick glance at my smartwatch tells me it’s still 28°C—slightly cooler than the 32°C+ highs of the day, but still heavy, still oppressive. The cats don’t seem to mind.
Then, voices—young, light, and slightly slurred. I turn a corner to find two women returning from a night out, giggling, heels echoing on the stone. I set up for another long exposure and wait. They fumble with a key, try the wrong one, laugh again, and finally disappear into a rented flat. The street is empty once more. Click—another 15-second frame captured.
The Sleepless and the Stirring
Further on, I approach the old church and find a small group of young people gathered in the square—sharing drinks, chatting, feet propped up on public benches. They’re not loud, just comfortably alive in the cool of early morning. I don’t disturb them. I shoot from a distance, then keep walking.
A shuttered window glows ahead. From behind it, a TV hums faintly and warm yellow light spills into the alleyway. Someone else, it seems, is losing their battle with the heat and has sought comfort in soft flickering distraction. There’s something intimate about that scene—unseen, but not unknown.
Daybreak’s Whisper
By 4:30, Alcudia begins to shift again. Plaza Carlos V is no longer mine alone. Early workers drift through, many on electric scooters—silent, efficient, popular in this part of the island. I sit for a while at a table outside a closed bar. No coffee served, no waiters in sight, just a moment of stillness. I take a few more shots from my seat, the camera balanced on the tabletop.
A Different Town
If you ever visit Alcudia, I highly recommend walking the old town after hours. Not for the nightlife—but for the lack of it. The transformation is striking. What feels crowded and cheerful by day becomes delicate, exposed, and quietly powerful by night. The textures speak louder, the light is more honest, and the shadows leave space for imagination.
And if you happen to be a photographer, bring your camera. The city has a way of revealing itself to those who pay attention—especially when no one else is looking.
—
David Campling Photographer. Observer. Storyteller.