Valencia

A short walk to the bus station . . . in fact with Barcelona’s system of one-way streets, a bus or taxi would take just as long. Our seats were upstairs which gave a great view in front and to the side.  Stopping at some traffic lights, two police on horseback went across the crosswalk – the white horses  looking distinctly like Lippizzaners in their grace and posture – beautiful. On the slopes overlooking the port, just south of the city was a curious cemetery built right into the cliffs – Cementiri de Montjuic.  Built in 1883 when space was limited, it now houses 150,000 burial plots and niches, with the remains of more than a million in total.  https://www.barcelonayellow.com/bcn-photos/661-montjuic-cemetery-barcelona  

Valencia was hot and humid. A debate . . .  should we take a taxi, or go for the local bus . . . both were just across the street.  Why not go for the bus. Now perhaps it was because we were lugging suitcases and looked hot, sticky and flustered, the driver issued us tickets ‘gratis’. . . Whatever the case, we were grateful.

Found the building okay . . . nice residential/local business area.  Pushed button #5 as instructed . . .  no-one there.  Alternate button #17 . . . same thing – no-one home.  Hmm.  Phoned Maria who, although living in the same building, was actually an hour away and not expecting us until later!  “But I said we’d be there mid afternoon!” exclaimed Glen.  There was a convenient shady cafe on the corner, so we propped up our cases and sat sipping tea . . .  Maria was along shortly, and the misunderstanding of time was revealed.  A combination of Google mis-translate and our bad Spanish, but  Media Tarde (mid afternoon to us) apparently means after six pm in Spain!

The penthouse had been newly renovated and came with its own roof top terrace, plants and multi seating areas – plus view of the city.  Most acceptable,  and after a short rest to recoup, and catch up on blog, we set off to find the local supermarket for provisions.  As a first exposure to Lidl, it was less than favourable . . . but perhaps I’m being un-generous . . . it was, afterall, late in the day.  No bread, tired and wilted veggies, cereal whose main ingredients appeared to be sugar, chocolate and marshmallows . . . but they did have a large alcohol section!  However, the award-winning Manchego cheese, ripe cherry tomatoes and tiny cucumbers along with really nice crackers, and followed by slices of sweet melon – so juicy one had to lean over the sink – made a delightful dinner as we sat on the rooftop in the velvety darkness overlooking the lights of the city.

The next morning we explored the market  place . . . . and drooled uncontrollably over the fresh frutas y vegetales, the plump golden chickens and the gleaming fish stalls.  We have a full kitchen,  so why not use it!  Two handfuls of tiny new potatoes went into the bag . . . . unusual flattened green and red mottled beans, followed by two types of meaty, pink sausages.   Some figs and oranges completed the purchase.  Picked up some exorbitantly-priced local Craft beer  to try – we’ll see.  Took the lot back to the apartment and headed out again.  

Bus to the old town which dropped us outside the Estacion del Nord –  a gloriously embellished structure which used to be the main train station.  We wandered happily through the narrow, bustling streets . . . enjoying a creme caramelo-flavoured  ice cream along the way.  It was a race to eat it before everything melted in the 30+ degree temps . . .  leaving a sticky puddle on one’s shoes. The cathedral was a must, and it was a relief to enter the dark, cool recess after the harsh sunshine outside.  Multitudes of shrines surrounded the central cloisters . . . each exquisitely  gilded and carved with a different Saint.  One ominous-looking room had hard, upright wooden seats, and one could be forgiven for expecting Michael Palin to spring forth in a Monty Python and the Spanish Inquisition sketch.  I was fearful of a sudden lightening bolt for even thinking such a thought!

The beer was OK – I think we’ll stick to the Estrella . . . but the sausages and veggies were excellent.  I shall miss this rooftop.