Valencia Vacation Days 3 - 6

• Mercado Central
• Foo Foo Food.
• Nuns with Plastic Babies
• Mediterranean

The last few days have been a whirlwind of activity.

After the debacle that was the meal at Ocho Y Medio, we awoke the next morning and headed to the Mercado Central. This is an immense under-one-roof market open six days a week from 7 to 2 PM. When I mean immense, I mean it. As you can see in the pictures, this is one of the largest, not only in Spain, but the travel guides brag in Europe. We so no end of ham, fresh meat, dried and fresh fish, and vegetables. It was as overwhelming to he senses as it was welcoming. We negotiated the purchase of grapes, cherries and (of course) olives. Then we trundled back through the streets until we reached Moltto where we ate once more, drinking small sips of wine and sangria with tublouleh (best I ever had) and a Spanish square slice of pizza with iberico ham bacon and mushrooms. That night we didn't mess around. We went back to Las Fuecas. We had all different tapas. I especially enjoyed the sardines in viniger, while Yvonne wanted to curl up beside the stuffed avacado. The Rum Sausage (that's the thing on fire below) was a surprising delicacy. And by the sequence of pictures, you can see that Yvonne and I were greased into happiness with Agua Valencia, a concoction of organge juice and liquor that reminded me of the jungle joices I used to get hammered on at Paulie's Kettlehouse in Seoul.

(the next days after picture)

Dried Shark

Snails Anyone?

The next day was Yvonne's birthday. Matt and Kaola, our hosts at the B&B found a cake and we all celebrated with song and her embarrassment. She might have got some cards from me. It was all fun. Then we went shopping. Lots of fun going to different stores and buying gifts for people. Across from the old Silk Exchange, we spied a street artist. His drawings of the skylines of Valencia were amazing. We grabbed some for ourselves as well as for gifts. These are one of a kind. We made our way to Moltto again for lunch.

Then we went back to relax. Yvonne painted. I wrote, working on a new story called The Matador's Son, based on a man I saw. Later, we went to the upscale Asian-Spanish fusion restaurant Sue Xera. Everything was like it came from an episode of top chef. Cuveed pork with crispy skin, perfectly cooked scallop on squid ink foam, King prawns and much more. Yvonne wanted to sleep with the dessert. Luckily, she settled for me.

(the next day after pictures)

Birthday Cake

Matt doing a Danish jig for Yvonne

Interesting Wall Art

Surreal

Surreal X 2

This was Yvonne's dessert. She wanted ten of them.

Cuveed Pork with crispy skin.  WOW!

King Prawn

Strawberry Gaspacho

Today we relaxed a little more. It was took chilly to go to the beach. We have that planned for tomorrow, along with Le Pepica. I spent the morning searching with success for a Flemenco venue. We'll see them tonight after an early dinner. That should be special.We ate lunch, did a little shopping, then came back and napped. We had to. Since 6 AM we'd been hearing bells and chanting and church services. And not just hearing bells. There's a flipping belfry not twenty yards from our window with at least six bells.

But the best part was the Plaza de la Virgin today. There were some traditional dancers. But there were also some protestors. One one side were some animal rights protestors and on the other were nuns with plastic babies. You have to understand. These nuns (I question their authenticity) had a huge banner. I know if I read the sign, I'd understand what it meant, but being unable to understand, the whole image of a nun holding a plastic baby by its leg and shouting at someone was too surreal.

Ahhh. The theater of human life.  Love it.

(See the nun pictures above)

Today we went to the beach. It was the warmest day and we spent several hours on the Mediterranean. It was lovely. Then afterward, we ate at La Pepica, made famous by Hemingway. The paella was marvelous as was the view.

And yes. There were a lot of free swinging tatas. Bless every one of them.

But alas, sand got in the lens of our camera and now it won't open. So I am afraid, my friends, that this is possibly the last pictures you shall have.

Weston in Mediterranean

Yvonne getting her toes wet 

More pictures can be found here --

Valencia 2012

Valencia Vacation Day 2

• Breakfast of Champions
• Arm of the Hermit
• Skull of St. Thomas
• Nappy Time
• Arctic Char Sammy
• Cruising the Old Town

• Piece of Crap Dinner 

Day two started much better than the first one began and ended. I awoke with a start at 0700, my body clock already telling me I’m late, which means it’s been reset in less than a day. It’s a gift I have. Thank you body.

After getting ready, I went into the main salon where there were over fifty items laid out for our breakfast. Many of them Dutch and English favorites, there was also Spanish ham and cheeses. And of course cava and orange juice, which makes great mimosas. We feasted for an hour and a half.  If we do this every morning, we’ll kill ourselves, but maybe we’ll do it for just one more.

Then it was off to the Valencia Cathedral to see the Holy Grail, the Arm of the Hermit and the Skull of St. Thomas. It’s so hard to describe the absolute grandeur of the place. I’ll let the pictures do the describing for me.

Arm of the Hermit

Skull of St. Thomas and his bones beneath

According to the Roman Catholic church, this has been certified as the Holy Grain

Then it was back for a little nappy time.  Yvonne and I rested on an immense sofa as the sun poured heat onto us and soft music played in the background. Sigh.

Then at two it was lunch time. Yes folks. Lunch is normally from two to three here in Spain. We had a small pasta salad and two sandwiches. Yvonne’s was Spanish ham and cheese and mine was arctic char and boiled egg. Fab-you-less!

At that point we decided to walk off yet another meal. Two hours later we made it back to the Bed and Breakfast. Scott Marshall and Rosa Samuels will be glad to know that we bought shot glasses for their tequila habit.

Now it’s time to rest. No dinner until at least eight, maybe ten. I’m thinking possibly of Lobster Paella.

What?

INTERMISSION

This is why guns should be legal in Spain.

I feel used. I feel taken. I was tricked. As Samuel L. Jackson would say, "You motherfuckers!"

Ocho y Medio Restaurant. They once had a Michelin Star. Let me tell you folks, the tread has long fallen off that sad old tire.

Here's what I posted on Trip Advisor. I think it says it all--



Title: I Feel Taken and Used


I kept clicking for the option to give this restaurant no stars, but it isn't an option. Hey, Trip Advisor Gods. Please add that option. This place needs it.


So I'm in Valencia for a week eating special dinners (see my other reviews). I especially want to show my wife how much I love her through food. So when we saw this place during the day and the waiter told us about the food as if it were something to make him swoon, well, we decided to come back. The four lobsters on the paella we saw on someone's table did a lot to convince us too.


So we came back.


And the waiter was indifferent. We were shown our seats. My wife had sangria so watered down it was pink-- and they made her buy a liter of it, rather than serving it in a glass. We ate carpaccio for an appetizer. If there were two ounces of it on the plate i'd be surprised. Then we waited for the paella.


Cut to a scene earlier in the day where our host at the bed and breakfast tells us that there are no good paella restaurants in the vicinity. He's given us a list, which doesn't include this one. 'The one's around here are tourist traps. Don't fall for it,' he says. Yet somehow I guess I think I know better. After all the waiter swooned. After all, I saw the lobsters. Plus, it's not reheated paella, it's 'cooked in the moment' so it has to be good.


Back to the restaurant. I watch as a cook comes out of the kitchen and tosses something on top of a tall table with such disregard, it could have been a platter of spoiled eggs.Then he and my waiter talk for a few moments as the dish cools. Then the waiter brings it over. He places the paella platter before us as if it's covered in gold.  


Another waiter sashays over and in perfect English says, 'This is the best paella you're ever going to have in Valencia. Afterwards I'm going to ask you and that's what you're going to say." Hand over my heart, I swear this is what he said. And i reply, "I've had paella a dozen times in Valencia, so I'll let you know." He frowned and was never seen again. I guess his attempt to do a 'these aren't the droids your looking for' didn't work.


Then we viewed the sad, hard, crusted, sea of dried rice and the tired, tiny, twisted pieces of what had once been a microscopic lobster tail on top of it. The Prisoner of Zenda has better bread and broth.


I ate in silence trying to find something redeeming, some way to save the meal. I sought something to say to my wife who knows I'm mad about the meal and wants to be nice.


But the words aren't invented to help me save the day on this one. 


97 Euro later we leave in silence.


They don't call these tourist traps for nothing. It was a trap. I was lured in. They got me. They took my money... more importantly they took a dinner in Spain away from my wife. For that I will never forgive them and I will never ever darken their doorway. I recommend you don't either.

Here's what Yvonne thought of it:

GOOD NIGHT!