The train trip to Valencia is a fever induced blur – but thanks to a lemsip or two I actually slept part way – felt like crap but still noticed beautiful places I’d love to come back to (like Salou?) ... one day! I also made the realisation that no matter where in the world you are, the back view of the burbs as seen through a train window is a depressing weedy, graffittied blur.
The night before I’d left Barcelona I checked my emails to discover this…“Your rooms will not be available for your first night in Valencia,” it said, I panicked … “but we have organised for you to stay at xxx for the same price on the first night and on the second night you stay here gratis.” Nnnooooo it had all gone so smoothly thus far. Que, rooms plural? What shit-hole had they stuck me in, how far from transport was it etc… But what could I do, right, it was after midnight when I read the message!
Anyway after a pleasantly hazy train trip I caught a cab for 10 minutes to my “new” hotel. Literally at the intersection of the main drag. And posh! A Bath, a bidet, a balcony all the best in the b, b, b stuff. Beautiful! I sat and ate a picnic on the balcony and then passed out in air-conditioned comfort (can I recommend freezing a bottle of gazpacho great on the train and when you arrive in your hotel room).
Here are views from the room and of the roomWhen I awoke I went for a brief stroll just to orientate a little to Valencia and pick up some tourist maps/brochures from the office less than 200 metres away.
Funny thing, I asked the guy at the tourist office if there were any local festivals or live music on. At first he said no... and then he said the next night on the beach I could go down and listen to Ior Meyan.
“Oh,” I said, thinking about tradition Spanish music and an evening on the sand the next night, “sounds good.”
He looked shocked and said, “you like Ior Meyan?”,
“I don’t know, I’ve never heard it before.”
I paused. His surprise was palpable and I rewound … it took a minute amd some brain whirring translation to realise what he’d actually said... “Iron Maiden”
It also explained the disproportionate number of long and lank-haired, black wearing, dumpy, middle-age tattooed odd-bods I’d seen in Valencia!
I kept strolling to discover that the 10 minute taxi ride from the station to the hotel was in fact less than one block!... and he'd had to drop me so I walked half of that block. Cab drivers eh? I also found that there was a bull-fighting ring around the corner. Luckily no bouts coming up! Would hate to get arrested for animal rights protests on my only weekend in Valencia!
Came home with take-away tapas and sat in the room listening to evening life on Valencia’s streets, the clatter of cutlery and laughter from diners, the squawk of seagulls and the sound of hawkers peddling their wares - sunglasses, handbags and tourist fans. When I’d finished my meal I was serenaded (with the diners in the street below me) first by piano accordion and then by heavily accented covers of Beatles songs. It was definitely time to pass out again.
In the morning I was feeling somewhat more even-keeled... the fever, at last, was lifting. It made the move (two blocks) to the new/original hotel bearable – even with my bag which was classily falling apart. The new place was not quite as posh but they were most apologetic and threw in free breaky both mornings – yay!.
Time to hit the streets… it was a beautiful day – intense blue skies caliente (38) pero seco – perfecto! I loved the details on the lamp-posts and that naranja trees grow in parks… The fountains and open plaza was great to sit in and sun-soak… and people watch.
Some things I noticed/thought:
Children chase pigeons all over the world,
I know it’s a falsely blissful impression… the couples are frighteningly happy because they are on holidays not just cos they’re in Valencia.
The sound of cascading water is even more important than the aesthetics of fountains
Valencia is a shiny and clean place…
I decided to head off and go to the contemporary graphic design and photography exhibition.
Some of it was twee, some of it made me giggle… some of it made me think of friends back home.
The Italian graphics gave me a flashback not cos they were retro… which of course they are, but because when I was into graphic design I had a book that featured some of these pieces
The exhibition was all good until they busted me taking pics… but that was good tooo cos it lead to a great convo with the guard in Spanglish about her dreams of travel and becoming a florist! Though you don’t see the 19th century middle eastern photography
Anyways, it was time to head off and wander again … I got a little nostalgic as I staggered past the strip of wedding stuff – so Sydney road… but a touch more glam?
Then I found a gelati shop and had a natter (in Spanish and mime) and discovered delicious new flavours (which I have since forgotten!)
Popped home, refreshed and headed to the movies and saw Madres y Hojas... dubbed over in Spanish. WHat was great was I accidently chose a filum that I'd seen but forgotten in the blurry haze of the flight from Aust... but I must have fallen asleep cos the last 20mins was a total surprise. It was great cos I knew the general gist and could focus on language rather than plot. The film is ok... a little contrived but ... ok!
A new (well ok, not really) realisation – the touristy bits of travel and entertainment are ok but for this living, breathing Gemini to the core – it is the random conversations, the successful complex communications (from ordering gelati to avoiding being expelled from exhibitions) and observing human interactions that provide the moments of real joy!
PS Valencia is real pretty
