014. Sleepy Peñíscola, and 48h in Valencia
In Peñíscola, we mostly slept, worked, watched X-Files and did laundry. I could try and spin you a yarn of adventure, but really, that’s what it was. However, what a backdrop to siesta against!
After Peñíscola, we slingshotted down to Valencia for a swift 48h. On the Sunday we arrived, immediately secured some patatas bravas, asked ChatGPT for a 2h walking tour of the Old Town, and then dutifully followed said tour. Lots of lovely towers. On the Monday, we got wheels and cycled around about, saw some pretty outstanding architecture, some very nice avenues and went to the beach for my first European sea swim of the year. Kes was too baby to get in (it was very cold). On the way back from the beach we angered some Valencian cyclists, got pretty moody about the cycling infrastructure and got temporarily lost.
What else? We found a really great tapas bar (ate there twice), some excellent gelato and were underwhelmed by Horchata - sorry Valencia. We saw the Central Market, ate three puddings for breakfast, and wandered about some more before, hold onto your boots, packing up the car and heading back to the finca for a Eurovision semi finals evening.
Also, in a very bittersweet end to the story, Elton (remember him?) has been rehomed, and we waved him, and the finca, a surprisingly emotional farewell in the morning.
For our last night in Spain we’ve driven to a town just outside Barcelona that - if pushed - I’m not sure Kes or I could tell you the name of (despite us being right here right now as I type).
Next stop: Inglaterra.
