After being chilly and rainy in Barcelona for my entire stay, of course it was beautiful the morning I left. Whatevs. I caught my 9:30 AM cheap train to Valencia with no issues whatsoever, and yet again settled in for a long, un-luxurious ride. Only five hours instead of ten this time. Bonus. Hostel was easy to find, and once more I congratulated myself on my hardened backpacker street skills. (Yeah, you know this one's gonna come around to bite me seriously in the ass sooner or later. Just stay tuned.)
Indigo Youth Hostel was fine I suppose, no bunk beds which is always a serious plus, but this was also the first hostel I'd stayed in that specifically advertised themselves as a Youth Hostel. And yeah, I could immediately tell the difference. This place had a distinctly college dorm-like feel that my very much not-college-age self did not enjoy, but fortunately it seemed at least quiet.
By the time I settled in, it was 3:30. I wanted to go to the beach. I may have been thwarted in Barcelona, but today in Valencia it was sunny and warm. I put on my suit under my clothes and headed out to tackle Valencia's metro and tram system.
Which I totally failed at. Ugh. Of course it's easy enough once you get the hang of it, but at first blush this city's mass transit is confusing as hell. Had to do a metro U-turn which tacked on about 15 minutes to the trip, but finally I found myself once more looking out over the perfect Mediterranean Sea.
I was kind of starving, having only bought snacks for this short(er) train ride earlier today, and the plan was to buy a sandwich and drinks at a market and then set up shop on the sand nearby to a public toilet. Except I walked along the boardwalk for quite a while and found nothing but expensive-ish restaurants... and the two public toilets on the beach were very much closed. Well, balls. There goes that plan shot all to hell.
I sighed and sat down at a restaurant that had a giant board out front advertising their burgers and other such tasty fare. Sat down and was told... oh no, they only start serving food at 8:00. 8:00????? It was not quite 5. Why on earth would you put out a sign advertising food that you are not serving?? I ended up getting some sangria but no way was I waiting more than three hours to eat.
Plan B, failed. And after everything else the afternoon was cooling off fast and I kind of didn't want to be wet anyway. So I finished my sangria and took the tram up one stop to where the more reasonable restaurants were, and had a giant empanada. Pretty tasty. I wasn't entirely sure of the area my hostel was in yet, so went home early.
Next day -- sunny but cool. Holy hell. I wanted more than anything to just have a freaking beach day, but did not know how exactly to handle this with a chilly breeze and no place to pee for free that wasn't the ocean. Eventually I decided I'd go to the beach just for lunch -- I hadn't had paella yet in Spain and the paella in Valencia was supposed to be extra yummy. Then I'd come back to the city proper and do some touring.
But yeah, that so did not happen. Of COURSE when I got to the beach it had warmed right up and it would have been just fine to spend the day on the beach and just go for a swim whenever I needed to pee. I was starting to think that Nice might be all I was allowed for good solid swimming on this trip. Nonetheless, I had a pretty damn good lunch -- DID find paella for not-too-expensive, and it was pretty good. Sat on the beach for a long time... Valencia's sand is very, very fine and there was a strong wind blowing off the coast... so as I sat there every inch of me was slowly being buried in a fine layer of grit. Worth it, of course. When I had to pee I went back to a restaurant and got a glass of wine... and ended up getting a very good, light dinner there, some sort of seafood salad with honest-to-God Thousand Island dressing. As the sun set I went back out to the beach, used my bag for a pillow and watched the subdued eastern sunset sky.
And then home. Skyped with the folks. Good day.
My last day in Valencia was technically a travel day, because due to RyanAir's particular peculiarities, my flight for Malta took off at 7:00 AM. I needed therefore to be at the airport at 5:00ish... and that was well before the metro started running for the day. SO, rather than fork over ~25 euros for a taxi, my Responsible Backpacker Self decided to check out of the hostel early and sleep at the airport. So that meant I had THAT to look forward to at the end of the day, but first there was an entire day in Valencia to fill. I wanted to go back to the beach, of course, but in the end I decided to at least see a little of the city before I left.
Had a good day touring, but my heart wasn't in it. I wanted to be at the beach. I also had a terrible experience over lunch... I got a sandwich and diet coke at this very cheap place... Spanish fast food, basically. I went to sit outside, and was immediately accosted by one gypsy, vagrant, shark, and hawker after another! SIX, all told. Nigerians selling fake Ray-Bans, homeless guys with photos of kids I bet aren't actually theirs... The last three happened literally one right after another, the last one being this ancient wrinkled gypsy woman who wanted to sell me a bundle of apparently magic twigs. I lost it, and with a "What the fuck is wrong with you people!?" picked up my tray and retreated back inside the cafe.
After my very frustrating lunch, I wanted to buy some stamps and mail some postcards. But naturally the stamp machine was not working, and the other one that was working only accepted coins of which I did not have a sufficient amount. Took a little over half an hour, I think, until those fuckers went into the mail slot. Seriously, after all that, I really hope they all arrive.
Walked around a little... Valencia is of course quite beautiful, even if it has the unavoidable failing of not being a beach.
I got lost trying to find something that was closed... and then later walked all the way up to a contemporary art museum that was also closed. I took my sad sorry self home and pan-fried my store-bought frozen pizza, in thirds, because my hostel did not have an oven or a toaster oven. I showered, packed, and got myself to the airport in plenty of time to lay claim to a bench that mercifully did not have armrests so I could lay down across three seats. This is Europe on a budget kids, and I hope you believe me when I say that in no way would I be doing anything else.
I enjoyed seeing Valencia, and I especially enjoyed my (sort-of) beach day. But as you can tell, I was starting to get really run-down and tired, and it was getting a little harder to keep my daily focus. Utterly perfect time to shake things up a bit and go drop in on my old college friend Brian and his wife Melissa... who had recently set up shop in Malta.
Indigo Youth Hostel was fine I suppose, no bunk beds which is always a serious plus, but this was also the first hostel I'd stayed in that specifically advertised themselves as a Youth Hostel. And yeah, I could immediately tell the difference. This place had a distinctly college dorm-like feel that my very much not-college-age self did not enjoy, but fortunately it seemed at least quiet.
By the time I settled in, it was 3:30. I wanted to go to the beach. I may have been thwarted in Barcelona, but today in Valencia it was sunny and warm. I put on my suit under my clothes and headed out to tackle Valencia's metro and tram system.
Which I totally failed at. Ugh. Of course it's easy enough once you get the hang of it, but at first blush this city's mass transit is confusing as hell. Had to do a metro U-turn which tacked on about 15 minutes to the trip, but finally I found myself once more looking out over the perfect Mediterranean Sea.
I was kind of starving, having only bought snacks for this short(er) train ride earlier today, and the plan was to buy a sandwich and drinks at a market and then set up shop on the sand nearby to a public toilet. Except I walked along the boardwalk for quite a while and found nothing but expensive-ish restaurants... and the two public toilets on the beach were very much closed. Well, balls. There goes that plan shot all to hell.
I sighed and sat down at a restaurant that had a giant board out front advertising their burgers and other such tasty fare. Sat down and was told... oh no, they only start serving food at 8:00. 8:00????? It was not quite 5. Why on earth would you put out a sign advertising food that you are not serving?? I ended up getting some sangria but no way was I waiting more than three hours to eat.
Plan B, failed. And after everything else the afternoon was cooling off fast and I kind of didn't want to be wet anyway. So I finished my sangria and took the tram up one stop to where the more reasonable restaurants were, and had a giant empanada. Pretty tasty. I wasn't entirely sure of the area my hostel was in yet, so went home early.
Next day -- sunny but cool. Holy hell. I wanted more than anything to just have a freaking beach day, but did not know how exactly to handle this with a chilly breeze and no place to pee for free that wasn't the ocean. Eventually I decided I'd go to the beach just for lunch -- I hadn't had paella yet in Spain and the paella in Valencia was supposed to be extra yummy. Then I'd come back to the city proper and do some touring.
But yeah, that so did not happen. Of COURSE when I got to the beach it had warmed right up and it would have been just fine to spend the day on the beach and just go for a swim whenever I needed to pee. I was starting to think that Nice might be all I was allowed for good solid swimming on this trip. Nonetheless, I had a pretty damn good lunch -- DID find paella for not-too-expensive, and it was pretty good. Sat on the beach for a long time... Valencia's sand is very, very fine and there was a strong wind blowing off the coast... so as I sat there every inch of me was slowly being buried in a fine layer of grit. Worth it, of course. When I had to pee I went back to a restaurant and got a glass of wine... and ended up getting a very good, light dinner there, some sort of seafood salad with honest-to-God Thousand Island dressing. As the sun set I went back out to the beach, used my bag for a pillow and watched the subdued eastern sunset sky.
And then home. Skyped with the folks. Good day.
My last day in Valencia was technically a travel day, because due to RyanAir's particular peculiarities, my flight for Malta took off at 7:00 AM. I needed therefore to be at the airport at 5:00ish... and that was well before the metro started running for the day. SO, rather than fork over ~25 euros for a taxi, my Responsible Backpacker Self decided to check out of the hostel early and sleep at the airport. So that meant I had THAT to look forward to at the end of the day, but first there was an entire day in Valencia to fill. I wanted to go back to the beach, of course, but in the end I decided to at least see a little of the city before I left.
Had a good day touring, but my heart wasn't in it. I wanted to be at the beach. I also had a terrible experience over lunch... I got a sandwich and diet coke at this very cheap place... Spanish fast food, basically. I went to sit outside, and was immediately accosted by one gypsy, vagrant, shark, and hawker after another! SIX, all told. Nigerians selling fake Ray-Bans, homeless guys with photos of kids I bet aren't actually theirs... The last three happened literally one right after another, the last one being this ancient wrinkled gypsy woman who wanted to sell me a bundle of apparently magic twigs. I lost it, and with a "What the fuck is wrong with you people!?" picked up my tray and retreated back inside the cafe.
After my very frustrating lunch, I wanted to buy some stamps and mail some postcards. But naturally the stamp machine was not working, and the other one that was working only accepted coins of which I did not have a sufficient amount. Took a little over half an hour, I think, until those fuckers went into the mail slot. Seriously, after all that, I really hope they all arrive.
Walked around a little... Valencia is of course quite beautiful, even if it has the unavoidable failing of not being a beach.
I got lost trying to find something that was closed... and then later walked all the way up to a contemporary art museum that was also closed. I took my sad sorry self home and pan-fried my store-bought frozen pizza, in thirds, because my hostel did not have an oven or a toaster oven. I showered, packed, and got myself to the airport in plenty of time to lay claim to a bench that mercifully did not have armrests so I could lay down across three seats. This is Europe on a budget kids, and I hope you believe me when I say that in no way would I be doing anything else.
I enjoyed seeing Valencia, and I especially enjoyed my (sort-of) beach day. But as you can tell, I was starting to get really run-down and tired, and it was getting a little harder to keep my daily focus. Utterly perfect time to shake things up a bit and go drop in on my old college friend Brian and his wife Melissa... who had recently set up shop in Malta.
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