Valencia Day 2

Just as I’m getting settled in here, I have to pack up and leave. But it’s the only place in Spain on this trip that was a new city for me, so I’m glad I had a chance to visit.I thought real hard this morning about exercising with the people in the video below but in the end, just went for another run.

Afterward, I decided to go to the Valencia beach. It’s in a not-great part of town, there was hardly anyone there, and a lot of the buildings, even the ones right on the water, are pretty dilapidated. Yet I saw plenty of very pale British tourists walking around acting as if this were a typical lively, normal beach scene. So, I don’t know, maybe I’m too picky. Also, on my way to the beach from the metro I saw a skinny guy with dreadlocks down to his waist talking to a bird. Not just talking but actually conversing with the bird. When he saw me, he gave me a “what are you looking at?” look. Honestly, he was right – who am I to judge?

These are some of the beachfront properties.

Since this is the hospital, my guess is that it’s important to be very careful when you’re on the beach.

The oil tanks and cranes at the end of the beach only detract from the ambiance if you look in that direction.

By far the nicest building in the whole neighborhood is this drive-through McDonald’s that is still under construction.

On the bright side, since every city with a metro has to put something on the train tickets, why doesn’t everyone do something like this?

Finally, I was walking around this evening and saw hundreds of people lined up outside the Central Market. Why? No one I asked seemed to know. So I got in line. Long story short, there is one day each year that the market opens in the evening so that all the vendors can prepare ready-to-eat food and sell it for the select few who make it in. I got in. When I left, there were still lines around the block of people waiting to be let in after enough people like me left to make room for them. Do I know exactly what was in what I ate? Not really. Do I care? Not really.



I also discovered today that it is so extremely hot and dry here that if I wash my t-shirt in the sink and put it outside in the sun, it dries completely in about 45 minutes. So if I were traveling just to Valencia, I think one shirt would do it.

Valencia

I woke up with a big decision to make. Do I run with my bluetooth earbuds streaming Spotify or use the wired earbuds with my mp3 player? Two espressos later, decision made, I went for a lovely run through the linear park.

Being in the old part of town means having to go past many upscale stores, including one that is actually called "Hipster," to get to the park.

The park has only been around since the late 1950's, but takes the place of a river that tended to flood the city, so the paths go under bridges that are hundreds of years old.

It is said, really, that Valencia's best art isn't in the museums. This is what they're talking about. These painted walls are all over the place, and they get painted over from time to time, so there's no predicting what you'll see if you visit.

Then a visit to the Central Market - one of the biggest markets in Europe. Some of the things I saw in there are not for the squeamish, depending on your squeam factor. Let's just say that if you're going to hang a ham,it's a lot easier to have a hoof to wrap the rope around. Not judging.

This place is huge enough to accommodate everyone from Valencia here to buy food as well as everyone from everywhere else here to take pictures.

For much of the stuff, there were at least a dozen different vendors selling any one thing. Seafood, meat, fruit, nuts, one place selling engagement rings and another for paella pans. So if you want a paella pan, there's really just one place to go. But if you want shrimp, I'm not sure how you pick one place over another.

But for lunch at the market, there is just one place to go. I'll let the New York Times take it from here: "Join the line at Central Bar, a terracotta-tiled tapas bar sandwiched between vendors. Run by the star chef Ricard Camarena, this efficient, bustling spot serves a menu built on products from the surrounding market, from fried artichokes in season to plump boquerones (anchovies) with passion-fruit ceviche." And from there, nap time.

Hola, Valencia

In one long sentence, I have left the machine guns, traffic jams and chaos of Madrid and have arrived in Valencia, with its man buns, pork pie hats, vaping, Santana cover bands and general hipster culture that I find so familiar and comforting. I already feel more relaxed and like this city so much that I want to explore it thoroughly while I’m here, but one of the things about Valencia I like so much is its invitation to do nothing at all during my stay. That is my cross to bear.

My room, with its private terrace seven floors above a pedestrian thoroughfare loaded with restaurants, artisanal bakeries and gelato dispensaries, will do.

The vegetable-themed park near me is intriguing in the sense that I don’t know what they were thinking when they made these things.

And, it may be just me from having lived with a doctor for 25+ years, but the thought of a “spongy mass” served with ice cream just doesn’t seem that appealing.








Nonetheless, I’m looking forward to wandering around this smoky, jazzy, expensive gateway to northern Spain for the next two days.

September 13 - Hasta Luego, Madrid

See ya, Madrid

As I prepare to leave Madrid, I get to thinking, if a friend helps you move, what do you give him or her? Perhaps pizza and beer. But if a friend helps you build a dam, what’s an appropriate token of appreciation? Maybe an Egyptian temple from 200 BC? That’s what Egypt gave Spain. And Spain plopped it in a Madrid park where it has puzzled pedestrians since 1968.


Anyway, my thirst for new knowledge never stops, like:

1. Machine guns – I have learned that the presence of people in military uniforms holding machine guns is not, alone, enough to spoil an otherwise delightful day. Two stories here. One – when I went for a run my first day here I was approaching a group of four large men holding machine guns and I was so focused on the guns that I didn’t see the curb that tripped me and landed me face first on the ground in front of them. As they all stepped forward to help I continued to mainly see the guns and pretty much got out of there as quickly as possible, thanking them as I ran away. Two – a couple of days ago I crossed a street against a light and a machine-gun guy wagged his index finger at me. He may have been fooling around, but now I cross with the light.

2. Elevators – the fact that an elevator drops 4 or 5 inches whenever you step in it, which the elevator in my apt. building does, does not mean that you will go plummeting to your death.

3. Shirts – if there is a reason not to wear the same shirt four days in a row, I don’t know what that reason is.

Now I'm off to Valencia, the place where Valencia oranges do not, and never did, come from. And why "hasta luego, Madrid"? Because when I left here the last time, 40 years ago, the mother of the family I was living with told me that saying "adios" was too permanent. Instead, you always say "hasta luego," "until the next time." Which it kind of turns out there was.

September 12

I took a walk to the Plaza Mayor today. Almost every night for two months in 1977, I went to the same bar at the edge of the Plaza Mayor, drank rum and Coke and practiced my slightly-drunk Spanish with anyone who showed up. I knew the bartender, and if I missed a couple of nights, he'd ask me where I'd been when I showed up again.

The place was here, now a restaurant that serves something artisinal. Anyway, I have friends who hadn't even been born when I was in this place drinking rum and practicing Spanish. That made today an interesting day for me.

There are guys all over Spain who use string and tubs full of soapy water to blow big bubbles in public places for money. I always thought that bubble-blowing thing was a pretty crappy way to make a living . . .

. . . until I saw this guy today on the Plaza Mayor. This is definitely a worse way to make a living.

And finally, in an attempt to do something slightly cultural today I visited the royal palace. The royal family actually lives a couple of miles away and uses this as a sort of vacation home for special occasions.

Anyway, this is the king's view from his royal patio. It's really nice, but the view from our house is just as good. That's what forty years of perspective will get you.

September 11

I was actually pretty wiped out today and tried very hard not to do things. Went for a run and then did nothing but walk the Gan Via, which is the Champs-Élysées (or the 5th Avenue if one prefers) of Madrid. And didn't do much there.

I didn't take my picture in front of the iconic "bear and strawberry tree" statue that replicates the central component of the coat of arms of Madrid and which I thought made no sense, but it turns out there is such thing as a strawberry tree.

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I didn't ask the guy dressed as Bart from the Simpsons if he realized that he was diminishing the rich, unique cultural heritage of Spain and was contributing to an increasingly homogenized global popular culture.

 

Not a chance I went in here.

I did not ask why Madrid's chain of stores that sells pork products is called the "Museum of Ham," nor why another chain called "Hot Dogs and More" really basically just sells hot dogs.

And on a related topic, here's what traffic circles look like in Madrid. America, what you got?

September 10

After a delightful 14-hour sleep, I went for a run in the park.

   Down my street.

Past the lake . . .

And the glass palace, built in the 1880's to display tropical plants.













And the happy people lying in the grass. No big deal, really. This is just what you see when you go for a run in Madrid.

There is a lot of stuff in the world, but most of it ends up at El Rastro, the massive open market that takes place on Sundays in Madrid. It's supposedly been going on for several hundred years, but I'm guessing that what they sell there has changed quite a bit over time. Like, "I'm an ass man" t-shirts probably wouldn't have sold very well in the 1700's.






Finally, La Vuelta, one of the top three bike races that includes the Tour de France, happened to end this evening in downtown Madrid. The winner, british rider Chris Froome is the first rider in 20 years to win both the Tour de France and La Vuelta in the same year, which has caused quite a buzz in the biking world. You can read more about it here. Anyway, I got to watch some of the final rides through Madrid. I managed to stand at a 180-degree curve where everyone had to slow down a little. Thus, no blur.