Need to change the name of this blog from literary blogging to travel blogging, since that’s most of what appears here lately. When I bother to post anything at all. Blogging is a bit like masturbating — sort of pleasurable, but ultimately pointless.
A while back we went to Valencia, Spain, thinking if the election in the US went bad (and it did in spades), Spain would be a nice place to live. Valencia is all that, and more. It is a wonderful city. But maybe we’re just too old and tired to go through the hassles of residency in another foreign place.
Regardless, here’s a bit of Valencia.
We arrived in time for a mid-afternoon tapas lunch in the plaza down the street from the apartment we rented.
Balcony view from our apartment.
Below, a series of pictures taken in the central market.
Holly met a local librarian.
We found the goddess of paella.
Then, of course, we ate our share of paella.
And it is so good …
The famous center for science
A fantastic train station.
Downtown street scene.
Above, the building where we rented an apartment on the 5th floor. Below,Holly waving from our balcony.
What’s the verdict? We loved everything about Valencia — the wide white beach and endless blue sea, the architecture of old Spain, the market (one of the largest and best markets we’ve seen in Europe), the tapas culture that allows people not on the eating schedule of Spain to have dinner before 10 pm, the world’s best paella, the lack of significant graffiti, the ease of getting around the city … everything but the notorious Spanish bureaucracy that makes trying to get residency an endless and frustrating chore.
We did look at a few properties, and one we fell in love with, although it was one bedroom short of what we need. Another Bohemian treasure would have been perfect for us — 30 years ago!