So ten of my twelve hours for the week are done. No movie night tonight because RM is still in Germany, apparently she’s sick. I might still go to a movie tomorrow just because I’m bored out of my mind. Or maybe I’ll just do laundry and go grocery shopping.
Anyway here’s Valencia. There aren’t very many pictures. Valencia wasn’t very nice to us. We kept getting the feeling that it was trying to get rid of us. We got there at 5 am after a night train from Granada and of course none of the hostels were open. We tried a few anyway. Then Marcela and I went back at 8, leaving the other two in the train station with our bags. We looked for an hour but everyone said no. So we went to the train station tourist office when it opened at 9 and the lady there found us a hostel and made us a reservation. It wasn’t a bad one either. (Purple Nest Hostel) Then we went out for cheap Chinese food that wasn’t really very good, and then we slept and did laundry, and then we got up and tried to find paella. Since it comes from Valencia. Only it turns out paella is both 1) hard to find and 2) very expensive. Weird in both ways. So here we are wandering around Valencia looking for a good restaurant:
fountain in the same place
I should note that after about an hour we did find a very excellent restaurant, where we drank Spanish wine, and were fairly convinced that the waiters (none of whom were Spanish) thought Marcela was cute. There were awesomely weird things hanging on the walls, like a spatula hung from a nail with a frame around it. In true Spanish form we finished eating at around 1:30 am, I think.
The next day we got up intending to go to the cathedral but got waylaid by the market. We all bought rings or sunglasses for something like 3 euro.
Zandra shows off her loot.
Supposedly Valencia does have the biggest food market in Europe, but of course, in Valencia fashion, it was closed just for us. (Just kidding, it’s always closed Sundays.) Anyway it usually takes place in the building on the right:
We took a really slow bus to the bus station to catch our bus (too many buses in this sentence) to Barcelona, so we ended up getting to sit in the station for two hours. Valencia just really wanted us to connect with its transit centers. So we ate really crappy bus station tapas and ordered not so bad bus station ice cream. We had to work our way through a confusing situation without Marcela when the server thought Zandra wanted two cones, one with strawberry and one with chocolate, instead of one with both, but I think we did fine. (The direct translation of what I said is “No, the chocolate and the strawberry here.”) Anyway, even though Valencia was kind of a bitch, she was still pretty hot.