The Drawbacks of Traveling to Valencia
Photo by Ari Spada
Because of our limited time in Barcelona after my daughter, Vivienne, and her husband, George, arrived, we didn’t get to see as many of the sites we’d looked forward to seeing before we were to leave for Valencia. We had to be out of our apartment by a specific date and had reserved another Airbnb in the next city, so we had no choice but to leave when scheduled. We’d catch up with more sightseeing when we returned to fly back home in a few weeks.
The main reason for our going to Valencia was because Vivienne had a good friend, Rachel, living there, whom she used to work and travel with. Vivienne was very excited to see her. Rachel and her family — husband Rex and their two boys Sam (seven) and Max (nine) — had moved to Valencia so that the boys could get the experience and education of another country, learn the language, and have the adventure of being away from the States, while Rachel and Rex worked remotely. Rachel had gotten a babysitter to be with the boys and had made reservations for us all to meet at a bar for drinks and then dinner later on the eve of our arrival.
To get to Valencia we reserved tickets online for the train. But instead of the bullet train we had taken from Madrid to Barcelona, George thought it would be better for us to take the regular train to save a bit of money and see the sights along the way a little easier.
Big mistake.
Not only was there not much to see along the way in the dormant winter season, but there were also many stops. Some of those stops were annoyingly lengthy and slowed us down so we were late meeting with our hostess at our Airbnb. That also meant we were going to be late meeting Rachel and Rex for drinks, and after that slow train ride, we were all in great need of a drink or two.
Normally, we loved riding the train. They are super comfortable, serving drinks and food in the dining car, and you can walk around at will. You don’t even have to wear seatbelts. Had we anticipated the true slowness of the train we’d booked, expecting it to be only marginally slower than the bullet train, which sped up to 300 km per hour at times, we would have paid extra for the speed. But live and learn.
To top off our frustrations, when we arrived at the train station in Valencia, we couldn’t find a taxi. There were none at the usual taxi parking lot where many cabbies would congregate, ready to take arrivals to their destinations.
What to do?
George called Uber to come and pick us up, but they never showed. We soon found out that the reason for the lack of transportation was because it was Chinese New Year, and there was a huge celebration happening at the plaza right across from the train station. Taxis couldn’t get in or out.
Who of us would have even known the date of the Chinese New Year, let alone the possibility of a festival in its honor being held in Valencia, Spain, and right near the train station? None of us, for certain. Nor did Rachel and Rex, who were totally unaware of the goings on just a few blocks from where they sat waiting.
We finally walked to another street away from the masses and hailed a cab, which was able to maneuver its way out of the area and to the address of our apartment to meet our hostess.
Photo by Kerin Gedge
Cab drivers, we have learned, are either truly amazingly helpful and friendly guys — so far they had all been men — or curmudgeons.
Many of the drivers we had since arriving in Spain had been helpful in providing information. Some also seemed curious about us, where we were from and what were we doing in Spain, while others were just doing a job and didn’t want conversation. Thankfully, the driver we got to take us to the apartment, gave us the full scoop as to what was happening in the plaza and why.
Had we known how long we were going to be talking with our hostess who showed us the ropes about the apartment, signing papers and such, we could have had the driver wait for us, but that didn’t happen. We knew that we could find another cab down the street, which we did. However, the new cabbie was a wuss besides being a curmudgeon. He didn’t want anything to do with going near the plaza or the address we gave him, which was on the other side of the festivities and down another street. Instead of being creative and going around the crowd the back way and to the street we needed, as the other driver seemed likely to do, he dumped us at the edge of the crowd for us to work our way through and to find the address ourselves.
Bastard, I thought, as we fought our way through the celebrating masses. But we made it and had drinks all around before we walked to a small and cozy eatery to meet Rachel and Rex where the owner was ready for us. He took good care of us with more drinks and delicious appetizers before our wonderful main meal, making the evening relaxing and the company engaging; just what we needed after our harrowing afternoon.
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Except for one other time when we needed a cab to take us across town to a restaurant that was known for its paella, we walked everywhere. A laborious effort at first, until our legs began to get the hang of the hard work they weren’t used to, and then it became a good thing.
When it was time to leave Valencia, we decided we’d had enough of slow trains, and because there were no bullet trains going where we wanted to go, we rented a car to drive to Seville. We were able to take sideroads and explore at our leisure with lots to see in between. The vehicle was a comfortable small SUV with plenty of luggage space and leg room and had enough horsepower to take us up hills into small villages to explore or have lunch. A fun thing to have done.
There’s much more to tell, about our drive, but that will have to wait until next time.
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Continue reading this story series by clicking here for Part 7 -
¡España! — Travel, Food, and Drink in Madrid, Valencia, and Seville
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Read all the other parts of this story series by clicking one of the links below:
Part 1 - España — My First Trip Away from North American Soil
Part 2 - Madrid and the Train Ride to Zaragoza
Part 3 - Zaragoza to Barcelona - España Continued
Part 4 - Nuestro Dia de San Valentín en España — Our Valentine’s Day in Spain