Feliz
Cumpleaños
December 24
The first place we saw in Valencia after we checked in was
the view from the balcony.
We walked the short distance to the Plaza de la Reina,
where the cathedral is. There is a Nativity scene inside where people were
having their photos snapped while a mass was in progress in another part of the
nave.
After the mass, we were looking at some of the side
altars. I don’t know if we’ll get to see the Holy Grail or not. We also missed
the left arm of St. Vincent, which is supposed to be behind the main altar,
because they started to turn off the lights at 8 and chase everybody out.
We went back today and discovered that the cathedral is
open for tourism during the day, Maybe the grail and the left arm of St.
Vincent will be part of the self-guided tour for 4.5 euros. We’ll try that
later.
We had dinner at La Taberna Vintara, a restaurant on the
Plaza de la Reina: Three different Riojas (all splendid), pan fried squid, and
pan fried salmon. This comes with french fries and green salad on the plate.
The food here so far has been terrific. I didn’t even mind the mouthful of
bones with the salmon. I just was careful to check before I bit down hard.
After dinner, the waiter poured us glasses of something I
couldn’t identify. It was delicious, a little sweet, but not too much so. We
asked what it was.
It was moscatel. It’s the inspiration for the cheap wine
that the old winos used to drink. But this was good.
We left the restaurant at quarter to 11 and started to
wander. We came without plan to the Plaza de la Virgen, where there is a church
with a great name, Our Lady of the Forsaken. So of course we had to visit
there. Another mass was in progress, so we stayed for part of that.
Then we strolled through some of the narrow winding
residential streets of a neighborhood that I think is called Carmen. We found a
pleasant little Socialist wine bar on one of the side streets. It was full of
kids and books and a projection screen, probably for political nights. At least,
I guess it was Socialist rather than Fascist literature on the shelves.
We bought a few glasses of wine and ate olives. Then when
it was near midnight, the official start of Joanna’s birthday, we headed back
in the general direction of the Plaza de la Reina.
On the way, we found what we wanted. It was a shop that
sold tapas and wine. We had a Rioja and a Moscatel, and some cake, so Joanna
would start her New Year with wine and dessert.
One of the great things about visiting Spain—aside, that
is from the great food and wine, beautiful architecture, dark history, and
general exoticness—is that we Yankees don’t have to reset our internal clocks.
It seems that the Spanish circadian rhythm is just about in synch with mine. I
get up around 4 or 5 a.m. Eastern Standard Time and go to bed around 8 p.m.
So does everybody else around here. After her birthday
dessert, we strolled some more and then called it a night.
It was sometime around 2 local time, but only 8 at home.
Same thing with waking up—10:30 local time is 4:30 at
home. There were lots of people up already at that hour when I went out for
coffee, but nowhere near the crowd that would be on the street later.
We started the day around noon with a visit to La Plaça de
la Ajuntament, which is Valencian for City Hall Square. The entire square is
surrounded by Baroque buildings. Most date from the early or mid 20th century,
but were designed to look old. They have domes, niches, animals, and
allegorical figures. I think the city’s official bird is the bat because
there’s one on top of city hall.
Almost every window has a balcony, but then, that’s true
all over town. Maybe all over the country, but I wouldn’t know because I
haven’t seen that much of it.
In the park across from the city hall, there was another
Nativity scene and people getting their pictures taken in front of it.
From there we walked up to the central market. It was
packed with people getting ready for Christmas dinner. Everything looked so
bright and fresh it was hard not to buy stuff. We wound up restricting
ourselves to a couple of oranges, a few dates, and a baguette, for breakfast
Christmas morning in case there was no place open.
Eels are sold live at the market. The vendor puts the ones
you want in a bowl and then cuts their heads off for you. It sucks to be an
eel.
The market shut down around 4, so we left.
We wandered around the old city. In fact, everywhere we
have been so far is within the old city. We came to the Square of the
Patriarch. Don’t know who that is or what he is patriarch of. It may have been
Pope Alexander VI. His statue was there along with one of King Ferdinand and a
few others.
We have been watching “The Borgias” on Netflix. Alexander
VI is a Borgia pope, father of Cesare and Lucrezia Borgia. In one of the
episodes, Cesare Borgia is made bishop of Valencia.
There were orange trees in the plaza. There are orange
trees everywhere here, planted in parks and by curbs. Some of the trees in the
Plaza del Patriarca were in flower. Others had green and ripe oranges. Maybe he
oranges grow all year round in this climate. Palm trees also flourish here.
In yet another park, we saw huge banyans. That park had a
tent with a scary looking guy in a gold suit and turban. On the other side a
sign explained what that was all about. Your kids can tell what they want for Epiphany to the emissaries of the three
kings. They can sit on an emissary's knee to have their photos taken. Santa Claus gets a break over here.
Workmen are restoring a courtyard at the University of
Valencia. The courtyard, from what I could make of the inscriptions, was
dedicated in 1902 to commemorate the 400th anniversary of the start of classes
there. The school was chartered in 1499. Medallions on the walls memorialize
illustrious graduates from previous centuries.
At one point we were almost lost. We had taken a few
narrow streets and were getting a mite peckish. So we checked out a couple of
places, but they were drinks only, which is kind of rare in my limited
experience here.
I didn’t really know where we were, but then noticed a
street sign. Some are in Valencian here and others Castillian. It was the
Carrer dels Cavillers, or Calle de los Caballeros. (I’ve seen it both ways and
can’t remember which this one was.)
I actually knew (almost) where we were. This, according to
one of the guide books, was one of the original Roman roads back in colony
days—which here run back to the B.C.s.
All I had to do was stop somebody on the street, try to
say “La Plaza de la Reina” without overaspirating the “p” and trilling the “r”,
because Gentlemen’s Street comes near there.
It was just before the Plaza of the Virgin that we found a
promising looking restaurant called Generalife. We stopped for food. It was
getting dark and we were concerned than everything would close for Christmas
Eve, leaving us with a baguette, a couple of Mandarins, and yogurt for dinner.
Not to worry. This guy wasn’t even starting to serve food
until 8. So we made a 9:30 reservation and moved on. We had already stopped at
the cathedral and learned that midnight mass started at 11:30.
We had a couple of Riojas—along with a plate of olives—at
Generalife for refreshment first. Well, I had the Riojas. Joanna had hot
chocolate.
We went back to the hotel to rest and change into black
and red Christmas clothes.
For dinner we had the fish casserole for two: langostinos,
tiny clams, mussels, tuna, and monkfish in a rich red broth. We arrived early,
but they took us to a table up on the balcony. The roof had dark timbers and
white vaulted stucco. One wall had a copy of a medieval painting celebrating
one of the many conquests of Valencia from somebody else, probably the Moors.
There was the Valencian flag with gold and red stripes and a blue field. The
pole was topped by a helmet and a bat in the spread-wing Dracula pose.
The place was packed. There were only two waiters. I think
they cooked the casserole while we waited.
It was good that we started early. We were late to church.
Not that it mattered. The service lasted two hours. The sermon alone ran more
than 20 minutes.
When we came out at 1:30, I think I may have been tired.
There was a bar open across the street, and I only took two steps in that
direction before I gave up and headed back toward the hotel.
The hotel management gave us a bottle of cava, made not
far from here, in fact, for Christmas. We toasted Joanna’s birthday and Jesus’s
with sparkling wine.
I’m wiring this on Christmas morning while the bells of
St. Martin next door are ringing in the holiday. Here are more bells, from Christmas Eve.
Dec. 24
Can I have your frequent flyer miles
from this year as my Christmas present?
Quaff one for me and enjoy the
holidays with our prosperous friends!
Charlie
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