Still battling the flu, we slept for two days when we finally reached Valencia. When I woke up I needed food and I was craving something carb-y and comforting. I stumbled out of our apartment and into the Spanish streets.
I wandered past paella and churros and gourmet seafood until finally, there it was: “quesadilla tres quesos.” It tasted like a dream come true and it was all I needed to restore me to full health. True travelers will probably agree that this was crime number 1.
Our apartment is situated in “El Carme,” the old part of the city filled with shops and restaurants and gorgeous plazas. Temperatures were playing in the mid-70’s so we decided to walk to the mediterranean. Clouds swirled in the sky but there was still plenty of sunshine to keep the air warm. As we wandered toward the sea, the city opened itself into beautiful streets and green space. Parks and palm trees welcomed us along the way. The water was cold but felt good on our feet after the long walk. It’s absolutely gorgeous the way the mountains frame the background.
Our Airbnb host, Valero, had given us some tips for exploring the city. “Take the tram,” he said, “it’s easy.” Either that’s a lie or he also he thinks 6 hours at Charles De Gaulle sounds like a good time. We studied the map, three times, decided on our route and bought a ticket. The train however, had other ideas. It stopped where it felt like it and a nice Irish couple explained that we had to get off there. Then there was a ticket validation debacle and a problematic language barrier. One more wrong train and we found ourselves trapped in a subway station.
The automated turnstile refused to let us out. After two minutes of consideration, crimes number 2 and 3 were committed. With one foot in Jared’s hands I jumped over the barrier and then he did too. I watched him do it on surveillance video in the empty security vestibule next to the turnstile. Video evidence of our Spanish misdemeanor.
But hey, sometimes you just gotta Ale-hop, Chupa Chup.