ADVENTURES IN VALÈNCIA
Day 8 - December 19
The next day, our journey was long. We had to transfer in Madrid, which resulted in a lengthy trip back to the capital and then another couple of hours to the coast. The kids did not seem to mind, as the train allowed people to walk around and felt less confined than a plane.
We arrived in Valencia in the evening and, thanks to a taxi, reached our hotel quickly. I found a highly-rated hotel at the edge of Turia Park. We settled in and noticed it was smaller compared to our previous stays. The kids slept on a sofa bed while we had a bedroom, but the room was just bed and had hardly any space to move around.
I felt nervous when we ordered food, and my husband returned what looked like noodles. I was so hungry and scared that my eczema would worsen. I had to tempt fate and try it. I tried to ignore my anxiety, but it was useless. After two hours, I didn't have a reaction. The relief I felt for both my husband and myself was palpable. We settled the kids into bed and then went to bed early, knowing we had a full day ahead.
Day 9 - December 20
The next morning, we set out to take the kids to the amazing playground. Parque Guliver features a large play structure resembling a man sprawled out and immovable. The idea is that the kids who play on the structure are like the Lilliputians. It is an incredible sight. I set out on an errand to pick up a late breakfast and coffee at Celicientos, a gluten-free panadería. I thought a mile there and a mile back would be no problem. I had little knowledge of Valencian streets, but I was surprised to find them busy. The city is known for its expansive bike lanes. Coupled with numerous buses and cars rushing along the fairly wide streets, the city felt a bit overwhelming. By the time I reached the park, I was exhausted. The city was not what I thought it would be.
We returned to our hotel after a long hour of play for the kids. Our plan was to visit the famous museum park. Our hotel was close enough that we didn’t need a taxi, but it was still a bit of a journey. We walked through Turia Park, appreciating its different sections and trees. When we arrived at the Hemisfèric, we found that the building was closed. I am unsure if it was a standard closing or if I missed the hours because I walked so far for food earlier; either way, we enjoyed walking by the magnificent building and seeing the reflecting pools.
Next, we climbed the stairs to see L’Umbracle, a sculpture garden with landscaped walks. It reminded me of an open-air conservatory. The greenery was beautiful and a wonderful escape from the busy streets. The plants in the garden were apparently chosen with precision to change with each season; therefore, the garden is like a natural work of art.
We left L’Umbracle and walked past the enormous Bellas Artes. The sun was setting, and the sky transformed into many shades of pink and purple. I greatly enjoyed taking photos, especially since I captured some of my kids. Even so, I was impressed by the park, but I felt no connection or energy. There was no pull like I had felt in Malaga. My mind whirled with various ideas about a long-term stay in Spain, and I realized that I might have been off in my calculations.
I reviewed our train tickets and found new direct trains from Valencia to Barcelona. This significantly reduced our travel time. Instead of leaving the next day around noon, we could stay an extra day. Although we lost the cost of our first tickets, it was worth it to have less travel time. Also, train tickets in Europe are much less expensive compared to our system back in the States.
Exhausted and with tired feet, we returned to our hotel for a quiet evening at home. At least, quiet was the idea. It seemed that the kids were extremely worn out, so it took longer to settle them down. Once everyone had been fed, cleaned, and calmed, we all went to bed and hoped for a proper exploration of the city.
Day 10 - December 21
The next morning, we enjoyed a hearty breakfast and set out around midday to walk to the historic center of the city. Once we passed Turia Park, the city seemed to transform. We immediately transitioned from the industrial-style buildings to the older, more historic structures. There were also more trees, wider sidewalks, and less traffic. Finally, we were experiencing the part of Valencia that I had dreamed of.
The kids did very well in the beginning as we wandered past cute bookstores and decided to stop at a place I had researched. Ubik Cafe was a charming bookshop and cafe, and what drew me to this place was its dedicated children's section and the lure of used books. My husband was also rejuvenated by a cup of coffee while I explored the store, hoping to find some literary treasures. The cafe also provided a short break to rest our legs and allowed the kids a little more freedom of movement. We made it to the main square, and I have to admit I was slightly disappointed. I mean, the space and the fountain were beautiful, but I felt no connection to the city.
Soon, we were on our way again, walking along the beautiful streets and passing the large Plaza de Toros de Valencia and the famous Mercat de Russafa. After walking for a while, we found a little cafe called El Leon in the Plaza Redonda. The kids ate their typical burgers and fries while my husband and I enjoyed octopus and some steak. It was a pleasant pause and a chance for our family to talk with each other for a little while. The one drawback of the plaza was the many mobile vendors who would walk up to our table trying to sell something. My kids would get excited to see the little trinkets, but I grew weary of having to dismiss people while eating my food. Eventually, my son haggled for a little wooden elephant, and soon after, we decided to continue on.
After lunch, we wandered over to look at the Valencian Cathedral, also known as the Metropolitan Cathedral–Basilica of the Assumption of Our Lady of Valencia, or St. Mary's Cathedral. There was a large nativity scene, and at this point, I think the kids (and I) were fairly done. We were all tired; it had been a lot of walking, and no one felt especially excited about the city. My son was not listening, and although not completely wild, he was misbehaving. I felt myself on the verge of losing it, so I stepped toward the towering walls of the cathedral and cried.
I could hear my husband reprimanding our son, but I just needed a minute. After a week of sharing small spaces and lacking solitude for recovery, I felt that I needed a break. My mind returned to our cramped quarters, and I knew that isolation was impossible. After regaining my composure, we all began to walk toward the park. As we neared the street, the noise from traffic, car brakes, and buses assaulted my senses. I felt utterly fatigued. My husband insisted we take a cab since the kids were exhausted, and so was he. We walked to the car, and I pulled at the door. I could not bring myself to get in. Instead, I told them I would walk back. The distance was only about a mile; I was tired, but weariness from exertion is different from weariness of spirit.
My husband looked at me with concern but ultimately agreed. They sped away, and I ventured into the park. At first, the shock of being alone was both terrifying and exhilarating. Suddenly, everything slowed down. As I distanced myself from the busy road, the street noise lessened. Since I was keeping my own pace, I slowed my steps, hoping to soak in as much solitude as possible. I saw more playgrounds, dads playing soccer with their kids, and beautiful bridges. To my pleasant surprise, I stumbled upon a columned pergola. Surrounded by olive trees, the pergola also featured a running stream architecturally placed in the center of the floor. It was serene, beautiful, and tranquil—exactly the place I needed to be refreshed.
I soon returned to our hotel. Although the room was the same, I felt better able to handle the space. There seemed to be an understanding among us that Valencia, although a great city, was not the place for us. It was larger than I expected, with a local language closer to Castilian than Castellano, and the busyness of the traffic convinced us that we would not do well there. Disappointed but also strangely relieved, we began to pack and prepare for the last leg of our journey.
Day 11 - December 22
The next morning, we made time for the kids to visit Parque Gulliver one last time. The park was too phenomenal to experience only once. This was another moment for my husband and me to breathe and assess our situation. The kids were doing well; we practiced speaking Spanish and explored three major Spanish cities. So far, our rankings were Málaga first, Madrid second, and Valencia third. Much of the ranking was due to the language similarity with our Latin American version. Energy and travel ease were two other major factors.
After nearly an hour, we gathered our kids and returned to our hotel. We said goodbye politely, thanked the staff at the counter, and called a cab. Once at the train station, we joined a huge crowd of people, which made the busyness feel different from other cities. Atocha in Madrid was massive, so it felt less crowded despite the number of people. Malaga was significantly smaller but had fewer people and also felt less crowded. There was no seating in Valencia, and crowds kept looking around for updates about their train. We heard our number and learned there was a slight delay. Although the wait was short, it felt like a long time. Finally, we heard the 'all aboard' announcement for our train and hurried to our platform. We settled into our seats and discussed our plans for Christmas in the last city on our journey—Barcelona.
