Tuesday 26-08 - Into and out of Valencia

Our early train to Valencia was already filled with Australian and other English speaking tourists. Everyone was flocking towards Valencia and the other towns that circled Buñol. In a few days 40,000 people would be in that tiny town pelting each other with over ripe tomatoes. I had been so excited about La Tomatina when I booked our accommodation 12 months prior. Even back then it was near impossible to find three people together for the three days around the festival.

Boarding the early train and leaving it, we ran into a pair that had been on the gothic walking tour with us. A guy and a girl from London. Together we looked for a tourist info place to get a map and directions. We found it eventually. Then onto the metro.

Our hotel was in the outer zones. I think strictly speaking it was an adjunct town of the Valencia region. 30 minutes on the metro and we were in the middle of nowhere. We called the hotel. They had very poor English and but managed to tell us that we were in fact at the closest station. But that it was still a taxi ride or a 40 minute walk away. Where the hell had we booked?

A nice English speaking local lady was passing by with her kid. we showed her the address. She helped us hail a cab and talked to the driver for us in Spanish. She was a god send. The taxi only cost 7 euro and before we knew it we had arrived at this strange 3 star hotel. we weren´t the only foreign young people with backpacks around.

Our room was huge. Each bed was a double and there was room for 3 more. Our bathroom was larger than our room in Barcelona. At least it was luxurious. And cheap. we washed up and got a bus timetable. Then to the supermarket one street over to get rolls and fillings for lunch. Then walking around lost. We gave up, sitting on a random bus stop to eat before retracing our steps. We eventually found the right bus stop. We waited almost an hour in the burning heat for the bus to arrive. Then a 30 minute bus ride to Valencia.

Once we were there it was ok. We spent the afternoon finding cheap shoes and clothes for the fight. We didn´t expect that anything we wore would be salvageable. Dani and I found gold plastic sneakers for cheap. Then some small tops. We had been told to layer because people try to rip the clothes off you. I found everything I needed except for the shorts.

All that walking around and shopping made us thirsty, so we stopped at a cafe for caramel iced coffee. I started to see it everywhere. Australians. Everywhere you went there were Australians. The accent penetrated the air like a think smoke. Australians had already been getting on my nerves this trip. Now Valencia had been covered with them. and they all seemed to be wearing the same shirts. yellow shirts a version of the Hienz logo on the front. everywhere I turned I saw yellow shirts.



Next we were to meet some friends from Perth / London who were also there for the festival. We went to the central macDonalds and waited for them. While we did we watched yellow shirted Australians. Everywhere we looked there were loud Australians. Drunk and all under 20 years old. Shouting into loud speakers and knocking over bins. Being generally annoying. Australians can make me so ashamed sometimes. We met ours friends. They agreed with us about the ozzies. They were also on the yellow shirt tour. However they had the good sense not to wear the shirts out, which is why we got served at the bar.

We all talked about travelling and our plans for the day ahead. The drink was nice, but the last bus back to nowhere left at 9-30 so we had to leave. We said farewell and wished each other luck.We walked all the way down to the bus stop. It wasn´t the right one. We looked and looked and walked everywhere but we couldn´t find it. So we went to the nearest metro station. The train took us again to the middle of nowhere.

We decided to try walking but after many blocks we needed a taxi. Calling the hotel just got us laughed at. The number we got from the nice ady on the first day had a rapid spanish voice on the other end. I tried my best to understand what he was saying, but it was just too hard. I was exhausted and completely overwhelmed by everything. So we kept walking.

Taxi found us. Showing him the address (la Eliana, Valencia), he kept shaking his head and talking about San Antonio. He drove around strange places. We were already tired and started freaking out. The others were depending on me to know what was going on ut it was too fast complicated for me. After a stressful taxi ride we found the hotel. We gave him more than he asked and ran to bed.