May 29 - June 12
Weeks 1& 2
Valencia is nice. It’s quiet, clean, safe, sunny, organized and very pretty. It’s also boring as hell. I can’t seem to find my rhythm here despite all the energy around me. Last week, I went to London and everything seemed so great, so familiar, even when I spent almost two hours going around in circles trying to get to a hotel that was within a mile radius. I was there less than two days, yet felt like I was leaving a home when I left.
It’s probably because I miss New York. Maybe it’s a sign of getting older, but I crave being where I belong. Fun fact: I’ve spent most of my life feeling like I don’t belong where I am, like I should be somewhere else. Not in a sad “I don’t belong (tear, tear)” way. More in a “meh, I’m not too sure about you, NY” or “hell. fucking. no, Miami” way. Well, last year I finally felt like NY is where I should be, like I had found my place. And then, I left because, well, I can’t feel too comfortable. Where’s my therapist when I need her? (Hint: she’s in New York.)
These first two weeks have been weird. I’m not sleeping and my emotions are all over the place. I’ve felt happy, #blessed, anxious, angry and numb at some point everyday. I’ve also felt very out of place in situations where I’m usually comfortable, like parties and dinners. Things are off and I miss home.
Pero no me puedo quejar. I’m finding pleasure in the small, everyday things like grocery shopping or drinking coffee al fresco. I’m going to the beach a lot, I’m in a beautiful city and I enjoy the occasional conversation with a nice local. (There’s only one nice person in the entire city… Joking, there are 7.) And, did I mention my apartment is great? You should see it AND touch it. So many textures. So much art. So much taste! I picture the owners as a rich couple in their 50s. Like, old-money rich.
I have also been around! La lluvia no para mi fiesta as Dominicans say and I refuse to stay home feeling all melancholic, or as Earl Sweatshirt would say: why you’re so depressed and sad all the time like a little bitch? Here are some notes on things I’ve enjoyed so far:
La Malva-Rosa beach: Close to the city and can be accessed by bus. The locals will tell you it’s crowded, but they’ve probably never been to Brighton beach in July.
The bus system: The buses here are fast, efficient and somewhat affordable. Don’t expect the drivers to be friendly, though. In fact, don’t expect people in the city of Valencia to be friendly. Set your expectations low.
The markets: A cook and a photographer’s paradise. There’s a lot of fresh seafood, meat and vegetables, also the only place where you’ll find cilantro and limes, but beware: the cilantro and limes here SUCK.
L'Umbracle: The party starts late (around 1:30 AM) and it gets crowded and annoying, but the music selection is worth all the trouble. The place is huge and if you go downstairs, there are many rooms worth your sweat, so take a Red Bull and wear comfortable shoes (ladies, no heels.)
Ciudad de las Artes y las Ciencias: Impressive and beautiful. Go during sunset and stay until the lights get turned on.
Villa Real, Borriana, Benicassim and pretty much any small town outside of the city: Nice people and good, cheap food.
Ñapa: My version of 36 hours in London*
Goat: Borough Market
Pakistani: Needoo Grill. (This one is in my top-five-meals list.)
Dos besos.
*Dominican word meaning a free add-on to your order or service. ;)
Weeks 1& 2
Valencia is nice. It’s quiet, clean, safe, sunny, organized and very pretty. It’s also boring as hell. I can’t seem to find my rhythm here despite all the energy around me. Last week, I went to London and everything seemed so great, so familiar, even when I spent almost two hours going around in circles trying to get to a hotel that was within a mile radius. I was there less than two days, yet felt like I was leaving a home when I left.
It’s probably because I miss New York. Maybe it’s a sign of getting older, but I crave being where I belong. Fun fact: I’ve spent most of my life feeling like I don’t belong where I am, like I should be somewhere else. Not in a sad “I don’t belong (tear, tear)” way. More in a “meh, I’m not too sure about you, NY” or “hell. fucking. no, Miami” way. Well, last year I finally felt like NY is where I should be, like I had found my place. And then, I left because, well, I can’t feel too comfortable. Where’s my therapist when I need her? (Hint: she’s in New York.)
These first two weeks have been weird. I’m not sleeping and my emotions are all over the place. I’ve felt happy, #blessed, anxious, angry and numb at some point everyday. I’ve also felt very out of place in situations where I’m usually comfortable, like parties and dinners. Things are off and I miss home.
Pero no me puedo quejar. I’m finding pleasure in the small, everyday things like grocery shopping or drinking coffee al fresco. I’m going to the beach a lot, I’m in a beautiful city and I enjoy the occasional conversation with a nice local. (There’s only one nice person in the entire city… Joking, there are 7.) And, did I mention my apartment is great? You should see it AND touch it. So many textures. So much art. So much taste! I picture the owners as a rich couple in their 50s. Like, old-money rich.
I have also been around! La lluvia no para mi fiesta as Dominicans say and I refuse to stay home feeling all melancholic, or as Earl Sweatshirt would say: why you’re so depressed and sad all the time like a little bitch? Here are some notes on things I’ve enjoyed so far:
La Malva-Rosa beach: Close to the city and can be accessed by bus. The locals will tell you it’s crowded, but they’ve probably never been to Brighton beach in July.
The bus system: The buses here are fast, efficient and somewhat affordable. Don’t expect the drivers to be friendly, though. In fact, don’t expect people in the city of Valencia to be friendly. Set your expectations low.
The markets: A cook and a photographer’s paradise. There’s a lot of fresh seafood, meat and vegetables, also the only place where you’ll find cilantro and limes, but beware: the cilantro and limes here SUCK.
L'Umbracle: The party starts late (around 1:30 AM) and it gets crowded and annoying, but the music selection is worth all the trouble. The place is huge and if you go downstairs, there are many rooms worth your sweat, so take a Red Bull and wear comfortable shoes (ladies, no heels.)
Ciudad de las Artes y las Ciencias: Impressive and beautiful. Go during sunset and stay until the lights get turned on.
Villa Real, Borriana, Benicassim and pretty much any small town outside of the city: Nice people and good, cheap food.
Ñapa: My version of 36 hours in London*
- Eat! I had three meals in London and each was just amazing. Here are the paces I went to:
Goat: Borough Market
Pakistani: Needoo Grill. (This one is in my top-five-meals list.)
- Watch out for London drivers. They drive like maniacs and do not know the concept of slowing down when turning a corner.
- Skip the London Eye. Too slow. Too boring.
- Drink and dance. London is great for both, but keep in mind that the drinking age in London is 18, so be careful who you flirt with.
- Lastly, think twice before getting on a bicycle. I’m a seasoned cyclist and I’ve never been so scared for my life. I literally thought I was gonna die twice in the 30 minutes I rode.
Dos besos.
*Dominican word meaning a free add-on to your order or service. ;)
June 13 - July 2
Weeks 3, 4 & 5
First and Foremost
I miss you so much, my friends. I miss our talks, our walks, our dances, our inside jokes. I miss my friends who eat anything and everything: raw, squishy, visceral, spicy. I miss the ones that don't need much explanation to know what's up. I miss grabbing coffee with my friends from work or discussing how good/bad/doughy the bagels are this week. The one group of friends I don't miss are the ones that were just for drinking or dancing. Nothing against you, there's just too many of your kind in this group.
I'm traveling with some good, solid people. Not everybody, some are assholes, fake or as interesting as a piece of lettuce (iceberg lettuce, the kind of shit you get when you order salad at dollar-pizza spot), but for the most part, I'm impressed with this group. It is just not the same.
As some of you know/experienced, it takes a while for me to warm up to people. I think I'm friendly, but I am not what I'd describe as open. I've learned that as I've gotten older and the urge to slap anyone who acts like they're a best friend within an hour of meeting has gotten stronger.
I had a good dose of familiarity on week 3, when I flew to Gran Canaria to meet my childhood friend and fellow nomad, Randy. Let me give you some background. I met Randy when I was 13 yrs old, when we started high school in Santo Domingo. We didn't become friends right away, but once we did, we built a friendship that has endured distance and time.
I had a blast with Randy as usual. We laughed, danced and called each other out like good friends do. We also walked around like crazy, exploring Las Palmas and Maspalomas. Such a good time.
Como Pez en el Agua
I slept like a baby when I returned from Canarias and woke up feeling energized and ready for week 4 in Valencia. Let me tell you, I am so glad I'm working while out here. Having a schedule and a routine makes everything much more manageable. Something else I've learned about myself in the last month: I can't go longer than two weeks without a routine. How do rich kids do it--hopping from island to island on their yatchs, stopping only to shop or eat? Sounds wonderful... For exactly ten days.
That week's Thursday was San Juan's eve, when all the locals go to the beach at sundown and light bonfires to welcome La Fiesta de San Juan. We went to La Malvarrosa, of course. I wore a long, backless dress perfect for the occasion and brought some white wine I had left over at the apartment. "It will be a light night", I said to myself. Yeah, right! Que tonta.
The strawberry moon rose over the water and the waves got calmer. All of a sudden, I saw a bunch of people running to the water. I stood at the shore for about a minute, buzzed and a little high on the moonlight, and then took off my dress and ran in. Now, let me stop here. Remember how I mentioned my dress was backless? I wasn't bragging, I was giving you a detail you might now associate with me swimming topless, with a bunch of strangers, for the first time in my life.
I didn't realize I was the only one half naked until I was about four meters away from the shore. To be 100% honest, I was wearing pasties. But that didn't seem to matter, or register in people's brains as everyone on the trip kept coming up to me, congratulating me on my bravery and my "balls". To be 100% honest, that was annoying as fuck.
The only thing brave about what I did was overcoming my fear of night swims. Now, that was awesome and for 20 minutes, it made me the happiest I've been in Valencia. Actually, in a long time.
I'll tell you more about my fear and love of the sea at another time. Now I will go back to exploring my current location, Lisboa. (Preview: it is awesome and I might move here if Trump wins.) For now, I leave you with a few musts and cool things about Gran Canarias and Valencia:
- Las Palmas: My favorite side of Gran Canaria. That's where I got my haircut (found a Dominican!) and where I saw black sand for the first time (mesmerizing). I couldn't swim in the area we sat down because the waves were too rough (I went to the surfing beach), but I walked by some calm, crystalline beaches on my way there. No black sand in those areas, though.
- Museo de Bellas Artes de Valencia: The smallest art museum I've been to, but they have some really nice pieces and a pretty large Gothic collection if you're into that. My favorite, and the reason why I'd recommend it, was the Sorolla collection. If you don't make it to Valencia, I heard the Hispanic Society museum in NYC has a lot of his paintings, too. Check it out.
- Mood Food: Best food I had in Valencia. I found this spot on the last week and went back to back so I could taste more stuff. If you ever go, please order the tasting menu and let them pick everything for you. I dislike coconut curries and let me tell you, I ate both of the coconut curries they have on the menu. Amazing.
- Jimmy Glass Jazz Bar: It's a bit tiny and old and the AC will likely be broken, but it is 100% worth it. They take their jazz seriously there, to the point where they shoosh you if you're talking during the performance. My kind of place.
- El Olivo: Another gem of El Carmen and another place where you should just go, sit down and tell the waiter to bring you whatever he/she would order. The last time I went, I couldn't eat because they just had a big holiday weekend and ran out of almost everything. They get their proviciones fresh from the market every day, so try to go there early on Saturdays or during a weekday. Does not get any fresher than that.
- Orange Juice: It's the best I've ever had. Order it fresh from the cafeterias and drink it by the gallons. Do NOT buy a carton in the supermarket. Do NOT accept the bottled one if they offer it at restaurants.
Hasta pronto!