I took off for the estaciones, completely terrified of walking down my thankfully deserted, but well lit street. I practially raced there, and was sweating by the time I arrived. The rest of our 14 person crew was already there, ready to head to the warm Mediterranean ocean!
ELEVEN HOURS LATER, after stopping every hour for at least 15 minutes (and for una hora at noon, for a quick comida), we finally arrived in Valencia! It was hot, we wandered for nearly two hours to find our hostel, asked at least a dozen people and were sent in a dozen different directions, acted and looked completely like American tourists; but hey, it was warm, it was Spain, and we were ready for LA PLAYA!
Friday morning dawned, partially cloudy. We had stayed for the first time in a hostel; not quite sure what to expect, and definitely suprised when I came back to my room to find all my belongings moved to the floor (and other belongings on the bunk bed I had made myself). Winky, from Austria and much more experienced in hostel-functions, had indeed chosen the right bed, but we were all displaced because of the other roommate (who turned out later that night to be a forty-something Chilean... at least he had other friends who kept him out all night right? Except for the early morning snoring and farting... Shannon, really, I don't know how you do this hostel thing). But we quickly became friends--well, roommates and tolerance might be a better choice of language-- and I went back to my calimocho in the kitchen.
We spent most of Friday looking for the beach; and although it took us three hours, the scenery along the way was worth it. There is a dried up river bed in the center of Valencia, which they have restored into a beautiful park that runs the length of the city. There are beautiful puentes, that all have monuments of saints, architecture, churches, art and much more. There are even orange trees growing on the streets! And just as a side note, oranges from Valencia are not special; I think it's just the agua de Valencia (meaning, lots of champagne added) that makes the juice reknowned. We found the beach, and just ahead of the storm warning. It was truly beautiful. The harina or sand, was truly like flour. I found a dead crab (Russ, you will be proud, to add to the collection!), and was terrified the entire time of it's revival and therefore carried it in my shoe while in the sand. We ate fresh oranges, avacadoes, and dried garbanzo beans (not good, without salt). Once the strong winds and rain hit, it never stopped on our Semana Santa weekend.
But it was all right. We spent many of the nights checking out the barres in our neighborhood, and even ventured into a special club (12 euro cover! But it included a drink) for our friend Austin. I have decided though, that's it's the cafe con leche and sangria that really makes it a night for me. Nonetheless, we stayed out until 3:30 in the morning, which was VERY early for a Spanish night; but there was more to see tomorrow.
Saturday we spent the majority (after we awoke at 2 pm of course) searching for Starbucks. How American are we? But seriously, after having shoes thrown at Rachel in the shoe store, just because there were nada in her size, made me want to tear up. I had a delicious caramel cappuccino... and it made the very long weekend.
That night, we took it easy. Until about 6:30 in the morning. An alarm had started sounding, but with all the racket that the Spaniards had been making in the streets until 4:30, it didn't really wake me up at first. But then we realized, that it was the fire alarm. The adrenaline hit, and my hands were shaking as I opened up my little locker to grab my passport. We threw on coats and shoes, grabbed purses and necessary documentation, and headed outside.
Turns out, someone in a Semana Santa festive mood, shorted out the circuit and started a small electrical fire. There was no danger, just no electricity or running water. Almost 45 minutes later the bomberos (fire fighters) showed up... got out of their truck, determined that everyone (who was already back in bed by this point) was indeed safe, and left. The next morning, we thoroughly enjoyed our cafe con leche, and toasted the fire alarm/fire department connections in los Estados Unidos.
The ELEVEN HOUR BUS RIDE back was relaxing. I have truly begun to enjoy movies dubbed in Spanish; it really makes you appreciate the body language acting of many of the actors. And although our trip to Valencia didn't have great weather, the hostel was rather uncomfortable and eating out was expensive, the times that we cooked in the kitchen, searched for flipflops to wear in the shower, history we experienced and the time spent in a brand new culture was definitely and ultimately... worth it.
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