I have just got back from a whirlwind trip to Valencia with a friend of mine. We decided that a 50 euro return trip for both of us was like looking a gift horse in the mouth and having missed out on Barcelona earlier in the year due to an expired passport (not mine!) we jumped at the chance for a weekend getaway.
Conveniently my friend had met an Argentine on a bus who was travelling to Valencia on the same flight as us and he had offered to get us from the airport to our hotel after our flight. This was very much appreciated as we didn't fly in until almost midnight. Rodolfo, our Argentine godsend was so helpful and promised to return the next evening for a
tapas adventure.
After a much needed sleep we arose in the morning and the same question was on both out lips "What will we do now?" Eat was the general consensus. Hmmmmm, a buffet breakfast awaited us. It consisted of the usual pastries that you find in any patisserie her in Morocco, but what really got me excited was the selection I had to choose from of the things that you don't get so often in Morocco, for example, potato tortilla. Ahhhhhhhhh, the cuisine of another country had me felling like a kid at Christmas. I was overwhelmed.
We headed off to the Market Central where we found bright and shiny fruit and vegetable stands. Entire shops dedicated to strung up legs of ham, cheese, nuts, skinned rabbits and turkeys feet. The smells, sounds and sights of Market Central were well and truly welcomed. Of course, my search for some sort of command of darija had me naming every fruit and vegetable I could in arabic!
Shortly after, we headed down to the tourist information centre to obtain a decent map and plan our next move. With such a limited time in Valencia we had to plan our attack on the city with precision and careful planning! After leaving the office with map in hand and walking the wrong way for a couple of hundred metres, we finally got our bearings and decided to take bus no. 32 to the ville nouvelle/new city/ ciudad nuevo.
Once there we visited the complex which houses Valencia's City of Arts and Science Museum (Ciudad de las Artes y de las Ciencias). Here we bought tickets to largest aquarium (oceanographic) in Europe after randomly posing with street art sculptures we headed into the actual aquarium. This place was amazing. It had a number of exhibits to explore from Tropical fish to Artic sea creatures and we finished by viewing the dolphin performance in the Dolphinarium. After four hours of wandering through the grounds of the aquarium we thought it was best to pack it in and head back to the hotel.
A note awaited us from our faithful friend Rodolfo. It was time for tapas. We strolled through the clean, chilly and relatively quiet streets of Valencia in search of the best tapas bar. Trying to find the best tapas bar in Spain is not an easy task. There is a tapas bar on every corner and they all look deliciously inviting. We were early so we decided to head into one that had no customers at all. We perused the menu and ordered a couple of cokes. I don't know what the owner made of our non drinking ways but he was warm and friendly nevertheless. Probably the best thing about this guy was that he was the spitting image of the English comedian Ricky Gervais. I left thinking 'If I could understand what he was saying would I find him as funny too?'
As a vegetarian I am at a bit of a loss with traditional tapas bars. A lot of the food contains some sort of meat, whether it be seafood or red meat. Ricky was a gem though and made me beans with mint! Even in Spain beans and mint found me.
We continued to wander through the streets and were very impressed with the churches, buildings and calm that Valencia exuded. The night ended with a great meal at an Italian (I know, I know, please forgive me!) restaurant in Plaza de Reina called Parpadella.
After a good nights sleep and another buffet breakfast it was time to get physical. We had been recommended by friends of friends to climb the stairs of the Miguelete. When we entered the church mass was on and the hymns were being sung and the congregation was observing the Saturday morning service. It was a pretty church and it was a scene I had not seen in quite some time. Then the climbing commenced, thank goodness for hand rails as I may not have made it otherwise. I know my fitness is severely lacking at the moment, but I didn't think I was this bad. Huffing and puffing we got to a section where there was a selection of bells that I assume had once been used. I couldn't catch my breath to even attempt to ask the guy who worked there what all the bells were about! A few more stairs and we were at the top. The views were pretty impressive and was definitely worth the 2 euros. You got to see Valenicia from the east to the south to the west and north. Personally, I think that Valenicia is much more attractive from the ground.
Once again we met Rodolfo and a couple of hi friends and drove to a town near the coast called La Palmer. This town in the place to go for
paella. Once again, being a vegetarian proved to be a pain in the backside as they did not make paellas for one unless you ordered the menu of the day. I did not fancy eating chicken and rabbit. We decided on the paella mariscos which is the seafood paella. It was a pretty impressive sight when it came out. It looked great and tasted pretty good too, even if I was hitting mussel and shrimp speed humps the whole way through. After lunch it was off to the beach. It was freezing there and I think we lasted about ten minutes - maximum. Only enough time to share an Argentinian
mate and a couple of photos.
Now the moment we had been waiting for, shopping. I had pretty much had my shopping fix in London over Christmas but my friend was chomping at the bit. We hit Corte de Ingles first for a few staple items, enough chocolate to last a year and enough coffee to last two. Presents.
I was aware that we needed 25 minutes to get to the airport from Xativa metro. I like to be early, I think I inherited that gene from my mother. However, shopping with a man possessed left us with 20 minutes to get to the airport, check in, clear customs and get to our gate. The pressure was on. Backpacks and shopping bags flying we ran to the metro. We had to wait, very impatiently, behind three adolescents who were scraping the last change out of the wallets for tickets in what seemed like slow motion. Once we got to the airport we were running even faster, climbing over peoples luggage 'pardon, scusa, pleeeaassssseeee' were being blurted out repeatedly.
Hooray! we got to the check in desk only to be sent to another desk because of our non EU passports. Argggggghhhhhh! Go, go, go, move, move, move, run, run, run. I was going as fast as my little legs could carry me. We were almost there. All we had to get through was the bag check and boarding. I sailed through and was on my way only to see my friend getting padded down by security. Done, lets go! Oh no, my friend then got his shampoo confiscated!
Finally, we were free to board. Beads of sweat on our brow and out of breath for the second time that day, we collapsed into our seats. We were heading home.
