Valencia (the Real Deal)

Valencia: 3/19/2017

Despite waking up plenty early, we somehow almost missed our train to Valencia. The streets were empty at 9 am, but we had to make a mad dash for it with our heavy backpacks and yogurt Rocio had given us in our pockets. We made it with minutes to spare.

We met up with Melissa’s other former host, Cristina, and her lovely family, when we got to Valencia.  The streets of Valencia are lined with orange trees, and the sweet smell of Valencian oranges and orange blossoms permeates the air.  The oranges are smaller and more bitter than the ones we have here, but they make a delicious juice, which we discovered at Cristina’s parents’ house when they gave us some for breakfast. 

I also had my first experience with Iberian ham there.  All over Spain, cured ham legs are sold.  This ham is totally different from American ham – it is salted and dried, but is not as dry as jerky.  Whole legs are sold, and most homes have a ham holder (I don’t know the word) on which the leg rests so that you can slice off pieces as you want.  It was fascinating and delicious. I learned quickly that ham sandwiches on crusty bread are a staple here, and I ate many more throughout the trip.

Our stop in Valencia was orchestrated purposely so that we would arrive there on the last day of the Falles festival. (Falles in Valencian, Fallas in Spanish). Falles is basically a giant version of a Chicago summer street festival, but their main attraction is the Falles themselves, which are designed and created by different social clubs.  Each club spends the entire year raising funds (like, tens of thousands of dollars) and building their Falle (fallera?), which is basically a wood-and-plaster caricature that can be six to eight stories high.  During a week in March, the Falles are displayed around town, and the town votes on their favorite.  On the last night of the festival, at midnight, all the Falles are burned to the ground while spectators watch.  People come from all over the world to see this festival.  All week, people throw firecrackers in the streets.  By the time we arrived, the streets were absolutely littered with firecracker debris.  Firecrackers and fireworks are constantly going off, and many of them are extremely loud. I jumped the first dozen times it happened, until I got used to the sound of deafening explosions around me.

Valencian children all have boxes that they carry full of firecrackers, which they light and set off throughout the day. Even small children do it. I’m talking even five and six year olds.  The whole thing was very nonchalant, with parents not really even watching their kids light the firecrackers. I wonder how many fingers are lost yearly to firecracker accidents, and yet I did not witness any (fortunately). 

So, Cristina’s family took us to see the Falles around town.  Some of them were smaller (six feet high) while others were massive and as tall as buildings. They were all ornately decorated and painted and made beautiful works of art.

For lunch, we met up with Cristina’s extended family (encantada again!) who fed us paella, among other things. I had seafood paella, rabbit (!) paella, and a salad made with baby eels.  In case you wondered, baby eels have the taste and texture of spaghetti noodles.

and this is what paella for 50 looks like after it has been devoured.

We continued walking around after lunch, through street markets and various Falles, with Cristina, her sister Monica, and their adorable kids.  Everyone talked in rapid Spanish except for Monica’s daughter, Maria, who talked to me in flawless English. I found myself humbled by this little girl, who spoke to me with such eloquence and grace. She spoke three languages and was quite aware of world politics. She was only ten years old.

When I asked what a man was selling on the street (it looked like a bundle of twigs), Monica bought us each one. It turned out to be licorice root. I LOVE licorice, and this had a milder, more earthy flavor. Nobody else liked theirs, so I chewed all of them happily.  She also bought us real horchata from a lady peddling a cart on the street. Spanish horchata is made with chufa (tiger nuts), which are sweet nuts, and is much more flavorful than American horhata made with rice.

My life was complete.

We walked around for the vast majority of the day. By midnight, Melissa and I had found a place to watch some of the Falles burn, and MAN did they burn. I mean they were on absolute FIRE. The whole thing seemed quite dangerous, and the Spaniards seemed wholly unconcerned.

 
 

There’s something funny about this one……………. can you see it?

We continued walking along, and by now the town was lit up with light displays as well, and the Falles were all beautifully lit. 

By now the ambient temperature of the town had risen at least ten degrees.  Around 1:00 am, there was a fireworks display, and the first-place Falle was lit on fire. We were near the front. It was very beautiful to watch this this painstaking work of art burn to a crisp.  We backed up quickly as it began to collapse and watched the rest from a distance.

SO MUCH FIRE.

The next morning, Melissa left for the American leg of her trip, and I went to Central Market for breakfast. This was a large farmer’s market with brightly colored vegetable stands, cheese and olive dispensaries, and meat counters.  Tiny skinned pigs and whole fresh chickens were on display, along with ham legs and rabbit meats. I got a few souvenirs, an empanada (of course), and some fresh Valencian orange juice for breakfast.  Then I headed out to Barcelona.