Cata Simó

We at Kilometre Paris would like to present our muse: Cata Simó.

She lives on the sea. Literally. Captain of Gordito, a 1904 Mallorcan llaut, Cata doesn’t just sail the coast, she carries its memory. The boat is old, made by hand, and she’ll tell you that’s the only kind that matters. “Everything handmade is crafted with the heart,” she says. “There won’t be another like it.”

She wasn’t always at sea. Another job, another life. But the ocean kept calling. So she left the rest behind. Now, her days are wind-washed, sunburnt, salt-lined, and shared with others. Yes, it’s a business. But also a calling: transmitting her love of the sea.

Give her 24 hours and she’ll chart you a circle around the island: wild southern cliffs, the impossible blues of Cala Blava and Cabo Blanco, a pause in La Ràpita. Then up the Tramuntana coast, through Formentor and Pollença. A slow tour, no rush, no clock, just the island from the water, like it’s meant to be seen.

Give her three months and she’s gone, sailing east across the Mediterranean: Greece, Turkey, secret coves. Or maybe she leaves the boat behind and backpacks through Vietnam, her kids by her side, learning to live light and open.

For Cata, freedom doesn’t shout. It sails. It floats. It’s the quiet joy of sharing something old and true with someone new.

Jaume Vilardell, Gabrielle Ripoll, Lluc & Lola

We at Kilometre Paris would like to present our muses: Jaume Vilardell & Gabrielle Ripoll.

They live and work together in Mallorca. He’s an illustrator, once an industrial designer. She manages projects, but don’t try to pin her down beyond that.

Together, they create a life that feels more handmade than planned. Jaume grew up in the pre-digital era, learning by hand, watercolors, graphite, real paper. That left a mark. He believes in the value of the gesture, the tool, the time spent.

His lines are quiet but certain, the mark of someone who knows slowness isn’t a luxury, it’s the only way to get it right. From a sunlit Palma studio, Jaume’s drawings have drifted far, landing at Dior, Louis Vuitton, Condé Nast, Sony, Bulgari. But they carry Mallorca with them wherever they go: the hush before dawn, the soft collision of light and sea, the warm hush of limestone walls.

He sees it happening here, too, young hands reaching back for old tools, old ways, coaxing them into something that feels like now. A brushstroke that is both a memory and a beginning. A line that holds its breath, then moves.

Gabrielle doesn’t care much for itineraries. Give her 24 hours with you in Mallorca and she’ll take your phone, blindfold you, and lead you to a hidden cove on the north coast. You’ll pick lemons from trees at the foot of the mountain, feed donkeys, drink lemonade, and eat pan moreno without checking the time once. That’s the plan, no plan.

Now give them two months and a blank check? They’ll set sail on a velvet boat, tracing the entire Mediterranean coast, Mallorca, Italy, Greece, Syria. Lola and Lluc, the kids, will trail behind in Zodiacs. A chef onboard, of course.

And between ports, Gabrielle will stop to learn how to make proper gelato in Rome, slip away to Japan for noodles, and keep going by train until she reaches Mongolia.They’re not tourists. They’re travelers. They collect skills, not souvenirs. They remind us that luxury isn’t always what you buy, but how you move, who you bring along, and how fully you show up

Maite Arias

We at Kilometre Paris would like to present our muse: Maite Arias.

Originally from Bilbao, Maite came to the Balearics in the 1980s. What began as an investment quickly became a life. Thirty-five years later, she still calls Mallorca home.

Before that, there was fashion. Her career began alongside the legendary couturier Manuel Pertegaz. Later, she opened her own boutiques, Arias, named after her family, introducing designers like Christian Lacroix to the island at the peak of his baroque brilliance. Her stores were always about quality, not trend: bold color, mixed textures, unapologetic beauty.

She’s someone shaped by women, mentors, friends, icons. In Ibiza, she met Esmeralda López and Cristina Macalla, who welcomed her into a world where presidents, actors, and artists passed through like local legends. Cristina became a lifelong confidante. Their last evening together ended with laughter and a line that stuck: “Niña, ya las hemos montado.”

Give Maite a blank check and two months of freedom, and she wouldn’t reinvent her life, she likes it too much. She’d help two friends who never quite recovered from the 2008 crisis. She’d travel through France and Spain at her own rhythm, tasting, watching, taking it in. She doesn’t need more. She just wants more depth.

To her, craft is the ultimate luxury, not emeralds, not excess. But something well-made, by hand, with soul and tradition behind it. Something that lasts.

Spend a day with her and you’d start at Mallorca’s cathedral, Gaudí’s touch still alive inside, then drive to Deià for lunch at La Residencia. A late afternoon swim, golden light, and then dinner at Flanigan in Portals. Conservative cuisine, she says, but with impeccable product. The kind that endures.

Because Maite knows what endures. It’s not just good taste. It’s generosity, friendship, and the places we return to without needing to explain why.

María Solivellas

We at Kilometre Paris would like to present our muse: María Solivellas.

She doesn’t do speed‐tourism. She believes in staying, in lingering, in tasting twice and looking longer, that’s how she learns a place, how she lives.

María is chef and co‐owner of Ca Na Toneta, tucked in Caimari at the foot of the Serra de Tramuntana. But this isn’t just a restaurant; it’s a casa de comidas, a place built on restoration of appetite, memory, story. For 28 years, she and her sisters have been feeding more than dishes, they nourish culture, history, the island’s soul.

Her food doesn’t chase fads. It's rooted, local, seasonal, honest, growing from their garden and Mallorcan traditions.
No machines. No shortcuts. Just hands shaping earth and flavor.
Ca Na Toneta is a must for food lovers, a kind of culinary Septime of Mallorca. It earned a Michelin Green Star for sustainability, and a Bib Gourmand for value and quality . Food critics call it a "gastronomic icon" , and diners from TheFork and Yelp describe it as “the best food I have had in Mallorca”

In 2021, María spoke at Madrid Fusión, reflecting her role as a steward of place-based cuisine.

She's also a founder of Slow Food in the Balearics, fighting to revive local produce and forgotten ingredients, ramallet tomatoes, Tap de Cortí paprika, black carrots, Mallorcan black pig.

Spend a day with María, and yes, she’ll feed you beautifully. Then she’ll lead you into the hills, olive terraces, generations-old farmland, hidden paths that seem to breathe. If you’re quiet enough, she might take you to a secret cove where the island still whispers its secrets.

Give her three months of freedom, and she’d go to Paris, a city she admires for its layered rituals, daily theater, and the way it sustains creativity.

For María, craftsmanship isn’t decoration, it’s foundation. Gardeners, artisans, cooks: they are culture’s backbone, each creation carrying the weight of care, tradition, humanity.

She never chases fame; she radiates presence. In the hush of a terrace, or the harmony of a dish, she says everything with precision.

María Solivella doesn’t broadcast, she cultivates warmth.