A Taste of Valencia

Saludes A Ustedes! Ready to read about my week-

end?

Right: Paella

This trip was my second organized by the University (Seville was the first) so we got to stay in a hotel, treated to great food, and day activities. No high-speed train this time we took a charter bus (brought me back to high school days… band trips!!) to Spain’s third largest city on the Mediterranean coast. Everything was tightly wedged into our 2-day visit to Valencia, and we were lucky enough to go during the city’s biggest holiday of the year- the Fallas Festival.

Although still in Spain, Valencia is within the Catalan region so Valencian’s don’t speak European Spanish, they speak Catalan. Both languages are similar. Below: Fallas

Las Fallas - “the Fires” in Catalan - is a celebration of St. Joseph of Valencia. Joseph was a carpenter and felt as though forming bonfires of all the years’ junk to be burned was as good a spring-cleaning if anything. Over time this holiday has become one of Spain’s most unique and crazy festivals. It is the creation and destruction of fallas; built by groups of artists from different neighborhoods around the city, they sometimes cost up to 700,000€ to make and take the whole year to create. There are hundreds in all sizes around the city and some are several stories tall.

Because of this festival the Valencians have a fascination with fire and fire crackers, which were going off all weekend. It took me awhile to get used to the constant booming noises - it was normal to see a six year-old throwing poppers! There is a two-week festival leading up to March 19^th when at midnight all the streetlamps are turned off and the 300+ fallas are set to fire and burned.

During the two weeks prior, the fallas and ninots (puppets or dolls in Valencian) are shown off in parades, mounted on a firecracker-filled cardboard and papier-mâché monuments displayed in main streets throughout the city. Thousands of people come to partake in the festival while feasting on paella (the traditional Spanish dish is specifically from Valencia) and carnival food. Stands on the streets sell bunuelos (like a churro but made with pumpkin) and churros and hot chocolate, popcorn and kettle corn, roasted chestnuts, candy and Orxata (Horchata) – this is similar to the rice drink from Mexico but is made from water, sugar, and the sweet root plant tigernut, chufa, or earthalmonds.

We weren’t there for the actual burning of the festival but got to experience Mascletá. At 14:00 o’clock (2 pm) a firecracker and fireworks show was put on in the central square of the city. I have never been in the midst of such a deafening, thunderous explosion

– and by the time it was over the city looked as if it had been bombed. Mascletá (left) takes place every day leading up to March 19^th.

On Friday with the group at La Lluña our stellar vegetarian lunch spot, we were brought salads and 4 different kinds - and colors - of hummus with fresh grainy bread to start with, than a main course of veggie lasagna, spinach cake and rice, than desserts - different flavors of custard, tea and espressos. Even the boys didn’t seem to miss their meat. Also as a group we went to the Silk Exchange, and the School of Arts and Sciences. On Saturday we went to the Oceanográfic Aquarium and visited the Las Fallas Museum where the winning falla from each year’s festival is saved from being burned and held on display. Sunday we took a 3-hour bike tour that spanned the entire city. Unfortunately we never made it to the beach, because it was still quite cold.

The girls and I shared a pitcher of “Valencia Water” which is a special drink made from freshly squeezed Valencian Oranges and champagne. We visited the Merkat Centro early Saturday morning for the best market experience of my life. They had everything from coffee and tea to bulk spices, olive oils, eggs, chocolates, cakes and bread, meats, cheeses, fruit, vegetables and nuts. We tried the carnival food (the chocolate churros were better than they are here in Madrid) and I had paella twice. And I set off a firework. We also went out at night for tapas and drinks then partied in the streets with the rest of the city after the grand parade.

Above, from top:

The Aquarium

Valencia oranges at the Merkat Central

Beluga Whale, Aquarium

The Bike Tour

Part of the School of Arts and Sciences

Unfortunately the only souvenir I came back with other than a couple post cards is a flannel I bought off the street because I was so cold. Alicia and Chrissy bought the same ones so our attempt to be warm was seen as the joke of the group who made fun of us the whole trip.

So it was another long week at school after another exhausting weekend away – in a good way of course! Today is St. Patrick’s Day so I wore green and had a few beers. I am watching the Spanish version of “Dancing With the Stars” with Marta. It is some kind of special night because a 75 year-old woman is dancing with a 30 something-man… I am still feeling a bit foggy and have school tomorrow so here ends my Irish Holiday celebration. Til later!

J'aime Paris

Paris was romantic, chic, gastronomic, and everything else I expected it to be. And I fell in love with that city. And I wish I didn’t forget to bring back some Dijon mustard.

Flying alone was a great experience! I am convinced an Olympic athlete sat in my row. She was dressed like one and most definitely built like one – one of the strongest females I’d ever seen. She had a Canadian tag on her backpack; she was traveling with a backpack (to Paris?)… How I am always successful in scoring a window seat I don’t know, but It was dark before we touched down and when I spotted the lit up Eiffel Tower I couldn’t stop smiling.

In France buying my ticket to the city by train, I met an English speaking couple - two body guard look-alikes one from Miami and the other, Atlanta. They were friendly guys and we chatted the whole way, it was definitely nice to have some company for the 45-minute ride. They were very concerned about me being by myself and before we parted ways wrote down their phone numbers for me in case i needed anything.

Christa Lee had arrived earlier on a different flight. For those of you who don’t know, we were lucky enough to stay with Cota last weekend, a friend from high school who has been living in Paris for 4 years. Thursday night the three of us got dinner before we went out, and I was so close to ordering the foie gras but backed out at the last minute (NEXT time!!!).

On Friday while poor Cota was at school Christa Lee and I went exploring. We walked along the river where we were overwhelmed with cool vintage posters, records, books, magazines, and artwork, so we couldn’t help but make a few purchases. We passed beautiful buildings and an old museum just off the river walk. By the time we made it to the Eiffel Tower the temperature had really dropped. Bloody freezing we proceeded to wait in the longest line of my life. We climbed the stairs to the second level where we took the lift to the top (from there we could see how far we had walked!). The weather was perfect and the view was more than worth the wait, my numb limbs, and burning thighs (we actually ended up taking the lift down instead of up so had to climb from the first platform to the second TWO times). I wanted to see the tower lit up at night so we waited for the sun to go down nearby in Le Champ de Mars with some Bordeaux and Chardonnay, and shared warm goat cheese and salad.

We weren’t wearing enough clothes to walk back home and when searching for the closest metro station we popped into a little shop to ask for directions. The two men working thought we wanted to eat so

invited us to sit down. So we did. They brought us olives, pickled

onions, sweet onions, fresh chive bread, bread sticks, parmesan drizzled with balsamic vinegar, and fresh mozzarella - that melted in my mouth - all marinated in olive oil. It was delicious. We enjoyed our apetivos and each got another glass of wine. We chatted with the waiters for a while and with our bill received some lemon cello “on the house”. We took a photo with our new friends at our new

favorite spot and left for a couple more bites to eat and a couple more glasses of wine, than eventually (exhausted), home.

Saturday Cota was free so we wandered around the city and ate another delectable meal with dessert – some kind of chocolate cake in a custard sauce MMMM! After finishing our late lunch, more wandering. At the famous Didier Ludot, the king of vintage couture, Christa Lee had finally decided she would splurge on an amazing black and gold Chanel blazer. After being charged she realized that she misread the tag, not 350€, 1,350€! A man in the store looks at us like we are idiots and responds in a snobbish tone “but of course! It is CHANEL.” How embarrassing… we left ASAP, sans blazer.

More wondering and we saw the famous Christian Louboutin an international luxury shoe boutique (I believe Paris’ is the original). In another shoe store was a boot worn during the reign of King Louis XV in 17^th century – the thing looked ancient, also like it could knock someone’s brains out. And some more really cool vintage shops where I found an amazing sweater. It was no Chanel blazer, but it was a thousand times cheaper and SO vintage. Later we went to a hockey game, than after, another tasty dinner. I wore my new sweater out that night, in case you were wondering.

Early the next morning I grabbed an espresso and chocolate croissant before jumping on the metro, than the train to the airport. I was feeling confident but it was actually going the opposite way at a fork in the route, bad news! Before I could have a panic attack the couple sitting next to me (who I had asked earlier if this train was going to the airport) realized the

same thing at the same time and invited me to get off with them to grab a taxi. Because it was Sunday, and because we were dropped off in a very remote area in the middle of nowhere, we waited forever and didn’t see a single taxi. And again it was BLOODY FREEZING. The couple was from Denmark so thankfully the man spoke some English. He had to go inside a café to ask someone to call a taxi for us because we were running out of time. The cab ride cost about 45€ and even after I insisted on sharing the cost, the generous Danish refused to let me help pay! I was so lucky - not only were they friendly and generous but thank god I wasn’t alone… at the airport I frantically took a train to my terminal and checked in - my flight had been pushed back so I made it, but barely!

So that was my visit to Paris in a nutshell. I didn’t get to see the Arc de Triumph or go inside the Louvre. And I could have easily spent more time shopping

for vintage clothes. So I guess that means I will just have to return to Paris some day.

Oh and I didn’t even see Alicia! We all took different flights and she stayed with friends from high school.

So I did miss her, but I think both of us were just too distracted, too entertained and too busy seeing the city to bother with meeting up.

Marta is giving a piano lesson. I wish I could stay in bed and listen but I have to get up and get ready for school. One week until Valencia! Adios Ustedes!

The Rain, In Spain

Alright, I’m having a quite a time studying for my last midterm tomorrow, (history) so I’m back on the blog - memorizing a bunch of dry facts only interests me for so long. Plus I need to start packing for Paris! Even the thought is distracting…

A good friend from Chapman sent me a poem today because it reminded her of me. It really made me laugh so want to share it. Thanks Sydney, you’re a doll.

The Soul of Spain With McAlmon and Bird the Publishers

In the rain in the rain in the rain in the rain in Spain.

Does it rain in Spain?

Oh yes my dear on the contrary and there are no bull fights.

The dancers dance in long white pants

It isn't right to yence your aunts

Come Uncle, let's go home.

Home is where the heart is, home is where the fart is.

Come let us fart in the home.

There is no art in a fart.

Still a fart may not be artless.

Let us fart an artless fart in the home.

Democracy.

Democracy.

Bill says democracy must go.

Go democracy.

Go

Go

Go

Bill's father would never knowingly sit down at table with a Democrat.

Now Bill says democracy must go.

Go on democracy.

Democracy is the shit.

Relativity is the shit.

Dictators are the shit.

Menken is the shit.

Waldo Frank is the shit.

The Broom is the shit.

Dada is the shit.

Dempsey is the shit.

This is not a complete list.

They say Ezra is the shit.

But Ezra is nice.

Come let us build a monument to Ezra.

Good a very nice monument.

You did that nicely

Can you do another?

Let me try and do one.

Let us all try and do one.

Let the little girl over there on the corner try and do one.

Come on little girl.

Do one for Ezra.

Good.

You have all been successful children.

Now let us clean the mess up.

The Dial does a monument to Proust.

We have done a monument to Ezra.

A monument is a monument.

After all it is the spirit of the thing that counts.

-E. Hemingway

Other than the poem, I got nothin’. But DON’T WORRY, I will have lots more to share than a poem when I return from the City of Lights! Wish me luck.

Bonne nuit.

I Tried a Fried Banana and Liked it!

Below: Tapas

Sorry it’s been awhile since I’ve posted, I blame it on midterms. They have almost passed and I am heading to Paris on Thursday!

This weekend Madrid was hit by a really bad storm. I didn’t even leave my apartment on Saturday the weather was so nasty.

Poor Alicia was sick with the flu all weekend but on Friday, fed up being in quarantine, she decided to meet with me and get some postcards at the Plaza Mayor near downtown. A street performer in the Plaza was trying to get attention and a few euros by blowing aggressively on a kazoo. Annoyed Alicia swore at him to me and a little man hanging close by heard, than approached us smiling curiously “are you girls by any chance American?” We hadn’t even made it across the square before we knew all about this dude’s love for New York and, “AAaahhhhhh CalifOOOrniiaaaaaa”. He insisted we get a drink together and I turned to The Sick One for an answer who seemed too drained to even care (normally I can count on her to deliver the ‘thanks but were not interested’ rude but effective dismissal of strangers). So we followed him to a nearby bar with outdoor seating and he ordered us a round. He sang some mariachi music for us (he belongs to a band) and told us of all the good places to go when we are “looking for a party”. Our lack of interest in him made our conversation quite boring and Alicia had to give him the second half of her beer she couldn’t stomach. After an awkward goodbye and a twice-refused phone number exchange, Alicia headed home to get back in bed and I shopped around town for a while before heading back myself.

I don’t know how possible it is to get to know a city in one day, but it is possible to get that “map in your head” feeling of one in a day. On Sunday the storm had blown over and I took a daring expedition to walk everywhere and now (finally!) my internal compass has been set back on track and I am more familiar with an above ground Madrid - considering I know it quite well under ground thanks to the metro – after my days’ excursion. Below: Plaza De España

Mid afternoon I took a rest in the Plaza de España because the sun was out and the Plaza has two really nice fountains. There were a lot of other people spending their afternoon enjoying the sun so I soaked up some vitamin D and people/fountain watched. Downtown I stopped in a Starbucks because a) I don’t like their coffee all that much BUT their service can’t be beat and b) I knew I would be able to use their bathroom without getting glares from the staff. So kill me. I went to Starbucks in Europe, a place where the coffee is almost as famous as the food. While stirring some cinnamon into my iced latte I met an older lady from Tennessee. She was so interested in what I was doing here and extremely relieved for the chance to finally bump into someone who speaks English – probably another reason why she blabbed my ear off for almost a half hour while her irritated and antsy husband hung behind. Woops.

Marta made a Cuban dish for dinner the other night, some kind of garlic rice with red sauce, a fried egg and a fried banana. It was one of the best meals I have ever had. I should try and mooch a cooking lesson off of her one of these days…

One last thing before I to go to sleep… Its official! Mom and dad have booked their tickets to Madrid in late April to visit me and do a little Euro-traveling of their own. They will be staying at a hotel up the street from my apartment and are currently getting some basic Spanish lessons from local travel guru Rick Steves in preparation. While skyping with mom the other night at around 11:30 (central European time) I told her I had to go because I had just gotten home from a movie with Hanna and still hadn’t eaten dinner. She asked me how her and dad are going to get used to the meal times here… Well mom, in Spain you don’t even think about thinking about dinner until around 10 pm. And around that time when you begin thinking about dinner, you often decide to delay it another hour or two. So tapas will quickly become your best friend.

Below: Christa Lee and Oscar

If your wondering about my movie date, Hanna and I saw “An Education” a film about a girl in London who wants to go to Oxford. I believe it is nominated for 3 Oscars and I hope it gets at least 1 because it was a fantastic film.

Other than all that I am jealous to hear that Seattle weather is nicer than Madrid’s, guess I will have to keep patiently waiting for spring to get here. Oh and I found peanut butter. GOOD peanut butter. In fact, I’m licking it off a spoon in my bed right now while I write. Don’t judge…

Buenas Noches ustedes.