24 hours in Valencia has taught me three things: I miss the ocean, I miss God and still seek redemption, and Parisian pastry still rocks my world. After visiting the cathedral in Valencia, I headed directly to the Mercado Central. A much more useable market than the Boqueria in Barcelona, I felt like I could shop here on a weekly basis, if only for the extraordinary apple Banda.
Speaking of which…I made a lunch and breakfast of a 5.90 euros pastry from Deleite select pasties in the market. I have to say that this was the best pastry outside of Paris or Montreal. If in Valencia, then spend the dollars and add a Starbucks Latte to the mix. Ummm, and yes the server girl excitedly wrote down my name, recognized from Friends, Chelder. Ha ha ha. I felt like an idiot.
Next I found myself at the bullfighter’s ring. Nothing much to see here, Hemingway, until tomorrow. Move on.
The beach made me weep. It was glorious to touch my feet into the mediterranean sea; it was warm and reminded me of the best day ever on a PEI beach. Unlike PEI, half- naked women traipsed the shoreline, and I have to admit that Valencians are too full of their appearance. Perhaps I am ugly, but I felt like I would never match their expectations for beauty here; yet, it is hollow. I never met a nice person in the city, despite there being a super high ratio of beautiful people here. Like a town where Ferrari were the only ride, the price would be too high and empty. Give me thoughtful aging over naive, proud beauty any day.
Dinner led me tithe downstairs restaurant, Senzone. I wanted simple, higher end and unique. With a giant calvados, a bigger grappa, and a glorious paella with octopus ( it was under the guise of fideua) I felt alive again. I needed the salt after a sweaty travel day. I am usually against hotel restaurants, but have found them to be a wise choice this summer.
Tomorrow finds me back in Barcelona. I have two nights in the city before I desperately try it make a Geneva connection to Washington. If I get there, then I will think about going into town, but I may just choose to stay at the Aloft. I have a cooking class in Barcelona on paella and catalan creme. If all goes well I will walk away with photos, recipes mastered and a few stories. I will definitely wear the python boots!