Valencia

Unfortunately there were a couple of hours to kill between quitting the apartment and the express train departing. I had bought a couple of fresh bread rolls in the morning from the supermarket to make cheese bocadillos to eat in the station hall. I chatted with a friend back home over the Internet. There was a pop-up store for a Spanish Internet bank whose reps were trying to sign up customers. I had a good excuse, I wasn't Spanish. Then I had a beer in the station bar to quench my thirst from the salty cheese. Contrary to what I had expected, the train did not leave from one of the platforms behind X-ray screening. Seems they don't always follow the procedures.

It was only about 90 minutes travel to Valencia. It was a long walk to the B&B place. I realised later that I could have taken the metro part of the way. But it wasn't too tiring. It was on the 5th floor of an old building, I had to ring to get in, but fortunately there was someone in the residence. It was cramped but quirkily decorated and all amenities were provided.

After freshening up I went to explore the Turia nearby, one of the reasons I picked my lodgings, because of its location. Just over 25 years before, I had reached Valencia, but then headed inland towards Madrid instead of continuing down the coast, creating a gap in my coverage of Spain.

The flood mitigation project completed in 1969 had turned the Turia riverbed into a city park. The bridges span dry ground and the occasional fountain or pool.

It was a paradise for cyclists and joggers. In fact there were so many of them that I had to be careful not get run into.

An orange tree.

Trees with odd looking trunks.

Another pond reminding viewers from the bridge that water once ran in this riverbed.

On one bridge were planters with geraniums and other flowers. I like it when cities make themselves up this pretty.

Red.

Pink.

Purple.

White.

Leaves.

Palms.

Cedars.

One of the modern bridges over the riverbed.

Museu de Belles Arts de València.

A fruity sculpture.

This would be the Pont de la Trinitat, which according to the signs is the oldest bridge in the city.

I left the Turia and walked into the old city. This is the Basílica de la Mare de Déu dels Desemparats, dedicated to the patron saint of Valencia.

On the Plaza de la Virgen side they were holding a celebration with singers.

And dancers.

Lots of them.

For comparison, it was much emptier when I saw it for the first time 25 years previously.

In the evening, people were enjoying the mild night.

And starting to fill the restaurants.

Near the ajuntament (city hall) is the Rialto Teatro.

And a fountain.

I was attracted to the modernist tower.

I'll continue with the next morning's sightseeing so as not to split Valencia across two posts.

Just around the corner from my lodgings is the Mercat de Colón. It now houses upmarket shops and cafés rather than produce stalls.

There I found a café serving orxata (horchata) and had a serve of this refreshing drink.

Much more spacious now that the former shoppers are gone.

But downstairs there is still a produce store, selling jamon.

The evening before I had failed to find the Palau de la Música. I realised from looking at a map that I hadn't explored the lower reaches of the Turia.

And for comparison this is what it looked like 25 years before. It was only 6 years old when I first laid eyes on it.

Further down is a play area.

And finally this futuristic looking Palau de les Arts Reina Sofia (opera house) which didn't exist in 1993.

It looks like some fantastic crustacean that has emerged from primordial ooze. Tosca was playing.

It was getting close to check out time so I caught the metro back to the nearest station. This also didn't exist in 1993.

A branch of El Cortes Inglés near the Colón metro station, the nearest to my lodgings.

Valencia and its inhabitants were much more prosperous than those of 25 years before. It is now a very liveable city, though a little more populated than I like at around 2 million.

I boarded the Renfe train for the longest stretch of this return journey, to Tarragona.