WHERE ARE WE ANNE?: NO VALENCIA ORANGES IN VALENCIA

GETTING ARTY IN VALENCIA

FIVE NIGHTS IN VALENCIA

24TH OCTOBER 2013

Ok, due to to overwhelming international demand from at least three faithful readers who actually read the words, I present another catchup blog post.

Our train journey to Valencia from Vilafranca del Penedes was not exactly uneventful. When the conductor came along for tickets he told us (in Spanish) we had the right tickets, right company, right destination, wrong train network. Don't ask me. Another 77 Euros ($115AUD) would fix it or we could get off at the next station. The choice was ours as night was falling with no idea of timetables and no command of Spanish while our friend Bene was waiting at Valencia station for us. We paid another 77 Euros on the spot while I cheerfully refrained from gnashing a layer of enamel off my teeth.

Despite arriving at the wrong station in Valencia on our newly selected train network, Bene walked around to meet us and escorted us to her apartment in downtown Valencia. We were warmly received and were soon tucking in to an authentic Spanish omelette that she whipped for us. Bene is a charming friend of Anne's old buddy Anthony in England. She teaches English and speaks French and Spanish with an interest in Arabic. Impressive.

Bene showed us the markets with the first of this season's oranges coming in. Valencia grows tons and tons and tons of oranges but it turns out they are not 'Valencias' but tangerines. Valencia is a hybridised variety invented in the United States. Valencia grows millions of Clementinas, a Tangerine which got it's name from Tangiers in fact. I'm prepared to believe there is a Valencia orange in Valencia but I haven't seen it.

We thought we'd had our last swim in the Med for this season back in Croatia but with unseasonably warm weather, we headed for the beach again to catch a few waves with Bene. We did some sight seeing and crashed the Valencia Tennis Open though I didn't manage to swing media access to the champagne hospitality tent.

We did manage ringside seats at a show of Flamenco dancing in a little bar that Bene's friend Tony bagged for us. It didn't start til past 11.00. In Spain with siestas and late dinners, nothing cranks up til 11.00pm. The Flamenco dancers had me from the moment they graced the floor. They were excellent dancers and powerfully entertaining.

On our last morning in Valencia we bade Bene farewell after putting up with us for five nights including one full day where we hardly moved from the dining table situation room that we set up researching our next moves, booking accommodation and car hire.