Plucky Survivors See Europe Day 50: Barcelona to Valencia

I have completed seven weeks of my ten-week trip and in that time I have visited twenty cities in ten countries, driven just shy of 4,000 miles (or roughly Savannah to Los Angeles and back to Houston again), and walked 201 miles.

Three weeks left with ten more cities in five countries and about 2,400 miles to go.

After a bad day and not at all restful night, I was nervous about what the day would bring.  It would be my first time driving with the digestive issues I’ve been having, and I wasn’t sure how it was going to go.

I got up early and did a load of laundry since there was a really nice laundromat less than a block away.

Then I made a financially irresponsible decision that wound up being TOTALLY worth it.

I was booked into a hotel in Valencia in the old town area, which didn’t have parking.  This meant I’d have to drive into an area that is heavily restricted to vehicle traffic and hope I didn’t get pulled over until I got to the hotel, where I’d be able to stop briefly and drop off my luggage while they registered PluckyMobile 2 with the city.  Then I’d have to drive a mile to the nearest parking garage and hoof it back again.

I simply wasn’t in the mood.

So, I went online and found the Westin Valencia, which has valet parking, unrestricted access, and a gorgeous room with a terrace.  It was too late to cancel the other hotel and get my money back, hence the financially irresponsible part.

Then I piled myself into the car and set forth to Valencia.  The drive was uneventful by just about any measure, which is a good thing because the two rest areas I stopped at had bathrooms that could’ve gotten their own episodes of CSI.

I got to the Westin and immediately knew I had made the right choice.  Pulled up to the doors, gave the valet my key, they unloaded my luggage, and took it all to my room where there were fresh flowers and snacks waiting for me.  This is a lovely, 5-star, super swank hotel and the few hundred bucks that it cost me to forgo the other hotel and book this one was totally worth it.

I hadn’t eaten anything since the day before and there was nothing left inside of me – I’m pretty sure I lost my spleen at some point – so I decided to risk some food.

While walking toward the old town part of Valencia, I snapped some pictures of a carnival area in a park that runs through the city.

My choice for sustenance was Jamon de Medio, a simple bar and grill where I got some cheese and bread and a hamburger with fries.  I know those don’t seem like the kinds of things you should eat when your digestive system is attacking you, but compared to most of the spicy, fried, and/or huge portion options at most other restaurants, this was the safest bet.  It was very good.  I wish I had been able to eat more of it.

Then I walked on into the old town and took a bunch more pictures.  Beautiful city.

My destination was the Valencia Cathedral, not because I wanted to see yet another old church, but because this is the place that has what is purported to be the Holy Grail.

It is a gorgeous building, with lots of incredible art, wood, stone, and stained glass.

When I got to the room where the Holy Grail was on display, there were lots of people in pews praying, so I was only able to very quietly whisper under my breath, “Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries.”  Was it childish?  Yes.  Did it make me feel better?  Absolutely.

I did some more wandering around the old town district.  It seemed nice but almost everything was closed, a combination (I was told) of it being Monday and late afternoon when everyone takes a break.  Siesta is a real thing here.  We need that in America.

I needed to get some work done and allow my digestive system to be cranky – although perhaps just a touch less cranky than it has been so hopefully things are moving in the right direction – so I went back to the hotel for a bit.

On a roll, I didn’t want to go far for dinner so I went to the hotel’s restaurant, El Jardi, and had some crunchy breadsticks with gooey cheese and a little bit of chicken and rice.  And by little bit I mean a football stadium sized pan of chicken paella.  No, I didn’t eat all of it, partly because of the guts and partly because it really wasn’t great.  I’m hoping I’ll get to correct that with a really good paella before I leave Spain.

Tomorrow is one of my longest days of driving on the trip, almost 400 miles along the Costa Del Sol to Torremolinos.