Sevilla to London

Alarm went off at 7am. Walked to Avenida de Carlos V, thought I’d missed the 8.15 airport connection, but found it looking unlike the other Los buses I’d been seeing. Got to the airport at about 8.45, and waited to check in. Bought and ate a croissant, went through security, bought some water and an Iberian meat boccadillo, got sent to gate 1A, then got sent to gate 2A, only to see a Budapest flight board through it.

We finally boarded and took off only 10 minutes late, considering we started boarding about 20 minutes late. Landed at Stansted about 1.40 UK time, and I went through passport control, got my bag and headed to the coach stop. The National Express arrived on time, and apart from going back out onto the M11 after stopping at the Trumpington Park and Ride, drove me rather normally home.

Things I will take from this trip

1. I now know how to eat olives in cold blood.
2. I need a larger memory card for my camera.
3. I really want to learn a language.

Lagos back to Sevilla

Alarm at 9am again, I was being a bit lazy. The weather was bizarre. It was completely overcast, and I could hear thunder. I had my yoghurt and cake, and was out the door at about 10am. I headed straight for the museum and Santo Antonio church.

I got to the bus station at about 12pm. Rain and traffic jams.

Sevilla at about 7.30. Walked to El Patios Cruces and checked in with the nice man who I suspect owns the place. He carried my bag upstairs for me. It was a lovely room, with big doors opening out into the courtyard, and the man was playing a flamenco CD that was beautiful to hear. I went to the internet cafe and went online for an hour. Got some calamari, sangria and rice pudding to eat, and went to bed in my beautiful room at about midnight.

Exploring Lagos

The alarm went off at 9am but again I had a lie in. I ate my cake and yoghurt and headed out. First I followed the city wall around from left to right, and had a look at the auditorium. It was new unfortunately, where I’d been expecting something Roman. I bought some bracelets, explored a few new streets, and headed back to the Church of Santo Antonio, and the museum attached, but they were shut for siesta.

I checked out some port, then headed back to dump my camera and grab my towel. I had another chicken salad for lunch, but at a different place, with excellent service. I headed to the beach. I had just cooked one side when I became aware of a guy sitting quite close to me. I went to turn, and he spoke. Seems he was from Madrid, and 25. After establishing I was Australian and sing, he shuffled up close and started to touch my hand and kiss my arm. I jumped up, saying no, and he left. The hide! I cooked the other side, had some swims, and headed back for a shower. I was quite burnt. I rested. I had a vodka, lime and soda in a tavern run by two poms that had a VB sign out the front, then had grilled salmon in a restaurant called La Dolce Vita. Bed at 11pm.

Not doing very much in Lagos

The alarm went off at 9am but I had a lie in. I hadn’t slept too badly considering the noise outside went on for ages and the Estonians came in at some ungodly hour and turned the lights on. I got ready, had some yoghurt and cake for breakfast and headed out. I went to the bikini shop first and got a red one for €16 (all the brown ones were gone). I then went looking for the tourist office (it really was miles away) and got a couple of pamphlets. Then I followed the river back up, watching the fish feeding. I was going to go into the fort but had to pay. I found the beach and walked out on the breakwall, watching the canoes and capsizing sailing boats. The beach wasn’t very good on that side – Praia de Batata.

I headed back to the hostel, via a couple of new streets, and went in to use the internet as facebook hadn’t worked on my phone. There was no one there so went to my room. I put on my new bikini and suncream and went out again. Even after walking almost back to the bus station, I couldn’t find a proper internet place, so had a chicken salad from a British cafe for lunch, which was very nice. I crossed the swing bridge and found Meia Praia, which was much better, only the water was freezing and the wind blasted me with sand. I headed back after a good spell, and got some melon gelato on the way. I went online at the hostel and facebook was fine and Pete had replied to my nature ramble status. I had a shower, cooked dinner, ate it, and rested. I had got some colour, but wasn’t burnt, which was good. After just sitting rather uncomfortably on my bed for a while, even after the Estonians had invited me to drink vodka, I turned the light out at 11pm, after the girls had asked the noisy boys to be quiet outside my window. Through the night, someone knocked and crept into my room, I think to get something out of the cupboard. After that the noise miraculously stopped, so I think something was said....

Sevilla to Lagos

Alarm at 8.30 (ah, another sleep in). I got up slowly, packing up as I went. I realised that it made more sense to have three nights in Lagos and a day trip back to Faro, so rang the Lagos hostel. The man there was lovely, but asked me to ring back after 10.30, closer to check-out. I went downstairs to have coffee and toast for breakfast, packed up a bit more, and waited to ring Lagos back. I tried them at 11.45, and the woman told me that she would take my name and if they couldn’t offer me a bed they’d find me one. That was enough guarantee for me. I checked out, and made sure the guy had me down as coming back on Saturday (sure enough he had me as Sunday).

I walked to the Plaza de Armas bus station and bought my ticket for the 1.30 bus (€36 return – the woman didn’t speak English but we somehow managed – I checked with the woman at the information desk that it was right). I sat for a time waiting to find which stand the bus was coming in on, then got some lunch. I found the bus and got on – there were no allotted seats and the driver spoke English. I got the front seat (leather) and settled in for the very comfortable trip.

There were a lot of orchards as we got close to Portugal. Over the border the country got more hilly and dusty and undeveloped. It was as I imagine Mexico to be – red dust and car bodies everywhere. Faro looked awful. The driver stopped at Lagoa and put us on another bus (technical difficulties?). We arrived in Lagos and I tried to get a map from the man on the info desk but he was very rude. I saw no other way but to ring the hostel. The man there gave me directions but I ended up lost again. I rang him again (I was actually close) and he got me almost to the door. They had no beds, but he had me go across the road to see Olinda, who would help me for the same price as the hostel. I found a man who didn’t speak English, said Olinda’s name, showed him the name of the hostel, and then said ‘room’. He had me wait in front of a TV until she arrived. Seems she was running a bedsit-style accommodation business. She found me a bed in the entrance to the room of two Estonian girls. I asked her whether I could have it for three nights and she agreed - €16 a night with a €10 key deposit. I finished my lunch, met the Estonian girls on the balcony, then went out to buy stuff and get cash. I got a map from the nice hostel man who said I could use all the facilities of the hostel, which I thought was nice.

I bought the red dress I’d seen on the way, from an extremely savvy 8-year-old, and raided the supermarket. I knew I’d made the right decision – Lagos was amazing. In my travels I saw a bikini I wanted to buy, and some bracelets. All good. I heard a lot of annoying pommy accents on the street. Back in the rooms I scoped out the kitchen, but didn’t like it. I went over to the hostel, but theirs was worse. Back over the road I found the matches and everything I needed – cooked dinner and ate it on the balcony. Then I rested. It was very noisy – I wasn’t sure I’d be able to sleep.

Day trip to Cadiz

Alarm at 7.30. I got to the bus station at 8.45 and bought my ticket to Cádiz for €18. I was confused because it didn’t show a return time, but I was told that they would change it at the other end. The amount was right. In Cádiz, a lot of people got off in the new, busy, high rise bit, but I stayed on and got off at the bus station. I checked the return times and it was 5pm and not 5.30. I went in search of the tourist office but couldn’t find it. So I just walked in the direction I thought the end of the point was. I bought some garlic bread, cheese and pate for lunch from a supermarket. After a bit more walking though shopping street and squares, and taking a photo of orange trees for James, I found the end of the point, and the sea. Hurrah!

I followed the road around to the left, and soon found Playa de Le Caleta, which wasn’t as nasty as the Rough Guide suggested. I found a spot and caught some rays. After 30 mins a side, I started to eat my lunch but had to run to the toilet. I finished my lunch in the shade above the beach and set off again. I walked out on the breakwall to the Castillo de San Sebastián but couldn’t go in. I took my second tourist photo of the day. On the way further around to the cathedral I took my third. The cathedral was wonderful and huge and crumbling but I couldn’t bring myself to pay the €4 to go in. I stuck my head around the door and think I saw enough anyway. I continued around to the Roman theatre, which I was looking forward to, and found it shut for siesta.

Not happy Jan! I went back to Cathedral Square and got some water and an ice cream, feeling much better after a lot of water.

Using the guided walk pamphlet I’d picked up at a kiosk on the beach, I walked through to the other side of the point, being surprised at how close it actually was. I made one last effort to find the tourist office, and succeeded – it was the big round grey thing on the nature strip between the footpath and the road. I went in and spoke to a lovely woman and asked where the bus station was – she showed me. I walked the short way through Plaza de España and back to the water, then to the bus station – 45 mins early. I ate some more, got on the bus and had a comfortable if warm (in sun) trip back to Sevilla. I bought some moisturiser at my favourite supermarket to treat my mild sunburn, and headed back to the hotel to rest – the heat was nearly unbearable. I wish I knew what the temperature was, but one of those time/temperature signs just wasn’t handy. I tried to ring some places to stay in Faro, but met either rudeness or engaged signals. In desperation I went out to go online but the hostel sites for both Faro and Lagos only let you book 3 days in advance. On the way back I got a burger and chips. Back at the hotel I tried the Faro hostel a few more times but gave up at 10.30 and went to sleep.

Exploring Sevilla

Alarm at 9am (blessed sleep in!). I took my time getting ready, and left at about 10.30. I was going to get a coffee downstairs, but all the tables were taken, and I found out when I went to book a couple of extra nights and pay the bill that the guy’s English was quite bad. So I headed straight out after eating my cake and drinking some water. I went to Prado de San Sebastián first, which wasn’t very exciting (I sat and ate the rest of my cheesy, hammy toast thing), then onto Plaza de España, which was much more interesting. It’s an enormous, ornate monument to Spain, with a fountain, and arched bridges, and tiled representation of each province. Very impressive. I bought a fan from a woman there. Then I walked south to the river, passing the Torre del Oro. The river was nice, but not terribly exciting. I kept following the river until I found the other bus station (Plaza del Armas) and found the times to Huelva/Faro.

Then I went to the Plaza de Toros/Museo Taurino to find out about the bull fighting. I did a tour that included the bullring, the museum, the chapel and the stables, which was good. I decided I didn’t want to see a bull fight after all, because the bull usually dies. I headed on to the cathedral and Giraldo Tower, paying €7.50 for the privilege of admission. The cathedral wasn’t as amazing as Granada – there was some work being done too. The windows were nice, the stone was nice, Christopher Columbus’s tomb was worth seeing, and Giraldo tower was cool because the whole ascent was in ramps so that horses could go up it.

I was very hungry by now, so went looking for gazpacho and salad. I found it in a nice restaurant north of Cruces. It was very good, and just what I needed – something healthy. I rested for a couple of hours in the hotel, then went out to the internet cafe again. I found out that Huelva isn’t worth bothering with, but both Faro and Lagos are. Dodging the smelly horse carts, I bought a sausage roll from a woman who spoke absolutely no English and got narky about it, and some gelato from another, who didn’t. No consistency – some v good English speakers, and then none. Back to hotel, bed 11pm.

Day trip to Gibraltar

The alarm woke me at 7.30, I ate a cake, and trundled out the door to the bus station. I took the wrong street, but a nice man guessed I was looking for the Estacion de Autobus, and helped me on my way. I found the right window, establishing that the last bus back was indeed 4.15, and somehow bought my ticket to La Linea (pronounced leenya) from a man who spoke no English. It was €30 and left at 9am as advertised. I found stand 22 and the bus came in soon after. I took my seat (22) next to a man and we set off. I ate half my banana. The man next to me started to speak to me in Spanish but I apologised and said I couldn’t speak it. He asked if I spoke English, beginning a long conversation, all the way until he got off nearly two hours later. He was Venezuelan, with Spanish parents. It was interesting to speak to him, and he wanted to practice his English with me, having learnt it in the US 20 years ago. There were Brits sitting behind me and Australians across from me. The trip to La Linea was around 4 hours, and parts were quite winding – we went though Tarifa and Algeciras.

We arrived with the rock clearly in sight. I walked towards it and found the laughable border control. I flashed my passport, went though ‘customs’ and was back on UK land. I got on the €2 all day red open-topped bus and we crossed the airstrip and headed into the city centre. There was a Safeway and ridiculous British pubs called ‘Pig and Whistle’ etc. It was very crowded and high rise. I got off and walked through the main shopping area, seeing M&S and all the other English shops. What a joke. I couldn’t find a tourist office, but found the cable car fairly easily. It was €13.50 for a return with an audio guide. I went up in the cable car with a funny little English man who did a little commentary, warning us not to touch the monkeys etc. At the top I paid €11 for the privilege of some not very nice pasta and salad and ventured outside. The view was amazing and this strange mist was coming off the ocean and being split by the moored ships.

The rock itself was great. Spain looked very sunny all laid out, but Morocco was extremely misty. The monkeys were a bit weird sitting around, but were mostly minding their own business. It was a bit scary when they sat where I wanted to walk – some stupid people touched them. I went to get an audio guide as I’d seen some interesting ruins I wanted to explore. I had to hand over my passport for the privilege and got in trouble for taking it where I wanted to go. I went back up onto the decks to listen to it. Turned out to be fairly useless anyway. It just talked about the monkeys, a bit of general history, the tunnels, the Queen of Spain’s seat, Queen Elizabeth offending the locals etc etc. I took it back, then went to explore the interesting-looking ruins. There was no explanation at all, making them not very interesting after all – just a heap of crumbling concrete.

I’d been going to walk down, but time was getting short, so I took the cablecar. I was a bit sorry to miss other things like caves, but I just couldn’t with the stupid bus times. I walked back through the town, seeing the funniest sight yet – two beat bobbies, dressed in full British uniform with fluorescent pinafores, speaking Spanish, in 33 plus degrees!! How ridiculous! I found the bus stop in time for the 3.45, waited for what seemed like ages, then the red bus turned up at 3.55. It left promptly thank god, and got back to the border in less than 10 minutes. I marched off, managing to ignore Spanish border control (I went back and apologised and showed my passport) and kept marching/running to the bus station, getting on the right bus just in time for 4.15. The trip was quite pleasant this time – I didn’t get sick, I was in no hurry, and I listened to the Beatles. I took some photos of the windmills.

With some traffic, we got back to Sevilla at about 8.10. I was exhausted, so headed around the corner from the bus station to the tram line for dinner. On the way, a French/Moroccan guy picked me up on San Fernando and wanted to go out for a drink at 12.45 that night after he finished work, so he could practise his English too. He suggested a romantic bar playing flamenco music near the river, which sounded quite good actually. He kissed me on both cheeks, which was a bit of a worry. I got a sausage roll and cheese and bacon toasty thing with some gelato, and headed back to the hotel. I think I was dehydrated, so drank lots of water. I didn’t meet the guy, because I was too tired, and a little scared. He had bad teeth anyway. I decided to leave Cádiz until Tuesday. I turned the light off at 10pm, intending to doze, but slept heavily all night.

Granada to Sevilla

The alarm went at 9am. I got ready and packed up in a leisurely fashion, and checked out at about 10.30. I bought a croissant at a patisserie not far down the road, near the gelato shops, and got the 33 bus to the bus station, having tried to hail it from the wrong stand. D’oh! I bought my ticket to Sevilla (€18), then went downstairs to the cafe and got a very nice coffee from a very nice man for 90c. I found stand 14 and a little lady had a chat with me – she seemed to want to know where I came from since I didn’t speak Spanish. I got on the bus, making sure to take my allotted seat, which was 30! The bus and the trip were pleasant – there were some rocky mountains, but I had an aisle seat again so couldn’t take photos. I nodded off a few times, watching the temperature climb from about 28 to 33.

We arrived in Sevilla at about 3pm, and I was already impressed with how the city looked. It’s very clean with a lot of white and terracotta, and the buildings are all attractive. I asked the guy at the info desk for a map, and he told me to go to the tourist office. I asked how to get there and he gave me a simple map. The sun was fierce outside, and once I oriented myself, I found the tourist office easily. Once there, I got some maps, and asked about accommodation. There really is only one youth hostel in Sevilla! The nice and funny guy recommended a hotel or pension in Santa Cruz, since it’s near the bus station, which has buses to Cádiz, Gibraltar and the airport. I set off in that direction, stopping outside one hotel to check its price. Two nice girls tried to help me with very limited English, but they realised I had a plan and left me to it. Very sweet. I walked up Cruces and was faced with two pensions. I chose El Patio Cruces and went in. The guy at the desk spoke very good English and offered me an A/C room with a bathroom for €35, for as long as I need it. Brilliant! It’s a beautiful place too, opening out onto a central courtyard. I rested, working out my plan for the next few days.

I ventured out again to explore Santa Cruz, letting myself get lost and taking lots of photos. I was going to go into the cathedral, but the map said it was closed, and there were people there for what looked like a wedding. I found no farmacias open, but I did find a good supermarket and bought some hair bands, juice, bananas and other assorted food. I headed back to the hotel and put the aircon on. After a shower I headed back out in search of a tapas-style bar to get some fried fish, which is the local speciality. I chose one place and ordered a sangria and fritos variado. It came out quickly, with pieces of fish, calamari, small fish whole, and much bigger fish whole, and with bread. I made my way through most of it, and it was good. I got a shock when the bill was €18!! I walked back to the hotel the long way, hoping to find an internet place open – I found the one on San Fernando open until 11, so surfed for half an hour. I headed back and turned the light off at 11.30.

Alhambra and tapas

The alarm went at 5.30am (eeek!). I was up and out the door in the pitch black at 6.05am. I walked to Pension Britz in the surprisingly cold wind and dropped my bag off, a bit alarmed that they didn’t have my name against a room, and set off up the hill to the Alhambra. Lucky I was following some other people, otherwise I probably wouldn’t have known where to go. I got there just after 6.30, and there were already lots of people there, but I was still in the early part of the queue under the roof. After a while I ate something. I made two British friends, who had friends in the credit card queue, and abandoned me when their friends got their respective tickets before them. I got sore legs, and rather annoyed by about 9am, especially when it turned out there was only one person selling tickets at the window. I got one for the afternoon (ie after 2pm), then needed a sit-down and ate the rest of my breakfast. I wandered back down the hill, getting rather lost, but somehow coming out at Hostal Costa Azul on Calle Rosario. Back at Pension Britz, I checked in, rested for a bit, then went out to the internet cafe (65c for an hour! So cheap!), couldn’t decide on accommodation in Sevilla, then got some lunch and gelato. I left at 2pm, again bound for the Alhambra.

The Generalife and its gardens were wonderful, Carlos V’s palace was awe-inspiring. The Alcazabar was interesting, but the Nasrine Palaces were a little unexciting, especially after the fuss about going in at a certain time. Oh well, was still worth €10, but perhaps not worth the four and a half hours of queuing! I left just after 5pm, and took the right way down the hill this time. I got some gelato and rested. I found the voicemail from Emma about the Tribal CTAD interview, rang Cambridge to negotiate a different day and ask to have the details sent, and texted Jules and Jono. Jules said he thought I’d get the job so therefore I should celebrate that night.

I had a shower and headed out at about 9.15, back to Bodegas Casteñeda. Being a bit earlier, I thought there might be fewer people there, but I was wrong. Being Friday night it was full of locals. I was further up the bar this time, and so had a different guy serving me. The other one gave me a smile though. I ordered a sangria, which was the red drink in the tall glasses I’d been wondering about, and got my entry level tapas. When that was finished, I ordered a medium plate of cheese and pate, which came with a big basket of bread. It was very nice, though I didn’t like one of the cheeses. A guy next to me helped me find my knife, and had some jokes with the guy behind the bar. It was very merry. As I went to order another sangria, I bumped someone else’s plate of tapas. The guy behind the bar had a joke about that. He asked me whether I wanted some more bread, and I said no. I watched the world go by – it’s fascinating to see all the bar guys running around so professionally. I finished my drink, then asked for the bill. It was €12.10. I tipped the guy €1 as he was very good. I headed back to the Pension, and spoke to Mum for 37 minutes! I went to bed at about 11.30, waking up in a sweat. I opened the window for a bit, had a big drink of water, then slept OK.

Granada: walking tour

Alarm at 8.30. I ate my spinach and four cheese pastry for breakfast and had a shower. I headed off at 10.15 to Plaza del Carmen to meet the walking tour. I paid my €10 – the guide spoke both English and Spanish, and I met two girls from Brisbane, who were the only other English speakers in the tour. It was a good tour – very religion-based, but I guess the history of the city is. We went into a hammam and through the Moorish bazaar and saw a very important building used for accommodation for traders. We talked about the Alhambra, and I found out that I would have to queue for hours to get a ticket. Night tickets were available though, which gave me hope. At the end I asked the girls where the best tapas was and they showed me the place to go. They also told me there was a great lookout up the road on which we finished the tour, called San Nicholas. I went back to the hotel and regrouped.

I headed out again at 2pm, and got my free Gazpacho from La Oliva in Calle Rosario, and had a chat to the nice man. I bought some chocolate too. I retraced my steps from that morning into the Moorish bazaar area (Albacin), which was very interesting, and I had intended to buy a few things, but nothing really appealed to me. I have too many shoes as it is. I then headed to the tourist office in Plaza Santa Ana and found the bus times, and checked that I really would have to queue at crack of dawn to get into the Alhambra. It was true, and the night tickets were only for the Nasrine Palaces.

I headed up the hill from Santa Ana in search of this San Nicholas, but ended up at the lookout from Sacromonte Museum. It was closed until 5pm. Damn siesta!! I waited for a while, then realised I could go and see Sacromonte proper and possibly get a better view. I walked for ages, but just found the Abadia (whatever that is) looking very shut. It was after 5pm, so I walked back down, booking a room at Pension Britz and seeing a guitar maker on the way. I texted Jules to see if he wanted another guitar. I then headed to Capilla Real. It was rather small, but beautiful, with an extremely high ceiling. You could walk down into the floor to see inside the crypt. There was a huge metal grille – so ornate! – and a wall of gold. I couldn’t take photos unfortunately. I saw a Botticelli which was quite exciting. Then to the cathedral. Oh my god it is absolutely amazing. It’s all white, and the scale is just unfathomable. The pillars seemed to go up forever. It reminded me of that dwarf city scene in Lord of the Rings (Khazad dum?) it was so enormous. There were two golden organs that I took naughty photos of for the two Petes (well everyone else was taking photos!). From there I headed to Carrera del Genil to buy some breakfast and then back to the hotel. I rested for a while, had a shower and went online.

I went back out at around 10pm, to Bodegas Casteñeda for tapas. I asked for dry white sherry, which was pretty stupid, echoed by the Australian next to me at the bar. I got something (Jerez?) which was dry, pale and quite good, for €1.80. The first tapas was one piece of cured meat, cheese, green olives and bread. On the recommendation of the Aussie, I then had some Pedro Ximenez, which was dark red, sweet and fruity. It was still very nice, and €2. The second tapas was a tasty potato salad, with more olives and bread. I tried to ask for Montecelli, but the guy shook his head and said something I didn’t understand. So I had another Pedro Ximenez, feeling decidedly tipsy by now. The last tapas was another salady thing with egg and tomatoes. Nice. I left just after 11, resisting the urge to have another in an attempt to get more to eat. I packed up and went to bed.

Valencia to Granada

Alarm at 8.30, breakfast at 9.30. Was packed by 10.30 and booked a hotel in Granada on the phone. I checked out and set out for the bus station. I found it north-west of the river no problems by 11.30 and there was a bus at midday. The ticket was €40. I got the front seat and had a nice journey to Alicante. Then I found out the seats were reserved when someone asked me to vacate their seat so after trying again and being evicted, found myself at the back of the bus. The journey was long but OK – I thankfully didn’t get sick. There were some great sandy/rocky mountains and I wish I’d been near a window and had my camera. I spoke to two nice girls who spoke English. We arrived at Granada at about 8pm and I got a map and instructions from the tourist office within the bus station. I got on a number 3 bus, but it didn’t go where the guy said, so I walked for a time before I found where I was on the map. Once on the right track, I walked up the lovely Carrera del Genil to my hotel, the Hostal Costa Azul on Calle Rosario, which was definitely not air conditioned, and the restaurant was closed for a week. The free internet was true though. It was a little shabby, and my room was right inside the front door on the street, but it was cheap. I ventured out for some food, which I got from two nice girls in a chocolaterie (one with good English was making the other with less good English try harder), and some gelato. I went online, and then to bed at 11pm.

Exploring Valencia

My alarm went off at 9am after a disturbed night but I didn’t get out of bed until 9.30. I went down to have breakfast – cereal and toast – then headed out. I found the Serrano Tower and walked up that (impressive) then north to the ‘river’ following the corridor all the way to the new funky buildings. I had to cut up some streets to find the America’s Cup port, which was uninteresting, didn’t find anything to eat, so had to get a tram from Neptu to Maritim-Serreria and then the metro back to Xativa. I walked north, getting a little lost and finding the markets too late to go in. I got a foccaccia and gelato from my favourite shop, and went back to the hostel to internet and rest.

I went back out at about 5.30 to get the tram to the beach from Pont de Fusta, which was just over the river. There were no working ticket machines, so I had to get on without a ticket. Some police/inspector guys got on and I thought I was going to get caught, but they weren’t checking tickets. I got off at the beach and found a patch of sand. Quite a few women were topless, and while a lot were gorgeous, some were definitely not. The water was too warm to be refreshing, but nice all the same. A guy came up to me (he actually spoke English) and asked me to mind his bag while he was swimming. I went back in myself as soon as he got back, and the second swim was better. The sun was getting low so I had a shower and left, getting the tram back, again without a ticket. It was almost 9pm, so I had missed the chance to climb the cathedral tower. I had a real shower and went out to get dinner, deciding on pasta on Plaza de la Virgen. I ordered, though no one spoke English. It took ages and finally the woman came out to talk to me, but we had a complete communication breakdown. She found an English speaker from the restaurant next door and sorted it out – they’d make a mistake and thought they’d already brought me my meal, but somehow had it ordered twice or something. They brought me a free drink and the food eventually. It was good. I headed back to the hostel and crashed.

Arrival in Valencia

Up at 3.45am, at Parkers Piece by 4.45am. Seems the previous bus was late, so got on earlier than I expected, and to the airport early as a result. I still had to wait ages for the desk to be displayed but it seems that most other people had already worked it out. I checked in without fuss, bought a Spain book and went through security. We had another wait here, but boarded the plane on time. Then they had to wait half an hour to fix something on the undercarriage. We took off and I tried to sleep. I did nod off, but only for a few minutes. The flight was kiddie hell.

We arrived at Valencia and the warm air hit me as I walked across the tarmac. In the terminal, I turned on my phone and got Jono’s message, giving me Steve’s email address to send my CV to. I got a map and headed for the bus. I decided against that and got the metro. It was cheaper (€1.70) and easier. I got off at Xativa and walked up into the street, having no idea where the hostel was. I found the tourist office in the train station and they found it for me on a map. It was a 15 minute walk north. The city looked nice. I found the hostel with no problems and checked in, noting a few Australians. I dumped my stuff, listened to Jono’s message again, writing down the details and sending Jono a text. I went downstairs to go online and sent my CV to Steve, couldn’t get bed linen yet, so wandered out in search of food, as I was hungry and it was at least 2pm by now. I found an awesome shop called Berliz, which has foccaccias, pizzas, yummy chocolate pastries AND gelato. Yum! I had some pizza, and some pistacchio and nougat gelato. I headed back to the hostel after a bit of a walk and had a lie down. It was too noisy to sleep, but still useful.

I got up, got my bed linen, made my bed, met my room mates, and headed out with my camera. I went to the Cathedral on Plaza de la Reina, and it was beautiful, but the tower was closed. I walked all the way down to Calle Xativa again and then back in search of food. I sat down outside at one place but no one served me, so I went to another place. The waitress didn’t speak English. (I asked her ’habla usted ingles’ and she shook her head.) I managed in Spanish and ordered a Paella Valenciana. It was good but not great. A woman who I think owned the place was talking to me. I think she was asking me whether I was enjoying it, but all we established was that I wasn’t Spanish, I was English.

I asked for the bill in Spanish, paid it and headed back. Went online again but had had no reply. I had a shower and went at bed at 11.30. The clock struck 12 in giant ‘For Whom the Bell Tolls’ bongs.