Friday, March 25, 2016

Yes, We’re Still Alive

A long hiatus from blogging. The reason: Hoots (i.e. Ralph Lutes and Pat Hoad, now Pat Hoad-Lutes: collectively, Hoots. They are too.) They arrived for a two-week visit on March 9, and we've been going about a million miles an hour ever since. 

First, the last Monday and Tuesday we spent on our own in Valencia, March 7 and 8.

It had been cooler, and was rainy one of those day. The mascletas, the daytime fireworks, were still going every day at 2 p.m. in City Hall Square, turning the centre topsy-turvy. Police block the streets off around the square, in about a six block radius, starting at noon. Crowds begin forming not long after. By 1 p.m., a full hour before the six-minute show begins, they’re lined a few people deep around the place where they let off the fireworks. Then everybody streams out of the square again at 2:15 when it’s all over, further snarling traffic. It’s absolute madness, but the Valencianos love it.

Near City Hall Square: some of the prettiest building fronts in the centre - very posh apartments

On the Monday, we walked over to Russafa to see if anything new was happening with Fallas preparations, and there was. Yeehaw! The heavily plastic-wrapped pieces of fallases – failures as Karen has taken to calling them, because that’s how the machine translations of the word (mis)interpret it – have appeared at Sueca and Literati Azorin and Cuba and Literati Azorin. 

Plastic wrapped Fallas figure, part of Amstel-sponsored tableau, awaiting assembly on Calle Literati Azorin

One appears to be sponsored by Amstel, the other by the Spanish beer maker Mahou: dueling fallases, one block apart. Both are among the biggest and most professionally done in the city. Think: multi-storey-high, three dimensional cartoon tableaus. On the basis of the wrapped pieces, it was difficult to guess what the tableaus would be about, although the Amstel fallas appears to have a circus theme. There is a large (unassembled) tiger figure – headless body and separate head.

Wrapped Fallas figure awaiting assembly in Mahou tableau, Calle Literati Azorin

We did go one of the two days – Monday or Tuesday, can’t remember which – on a second long walk around the city in search of other fallases, but only found one, in pieces and, again, heavily plastic-wrapped against prying eyes. Lots of beer tents going up in squares, though, and around both gate towers.

Traffic barriers stacked near Russafa market in preparation for closing streets for Fallas festivities - La Fallera is a brand of Valencian rice, the stuff they use for paella, and major sponsor of the festival

On Tuesday, we went back to Russafa to shop the market and went down Literati Azorin again to see the progress on the dueling fallases. They were well into unwrapping and assembling the Amstel tableau. The main figure is a pretty young woman in a fairy-tale frock (vaguely 18th century style) with lilac-coloured hair and a top hat. A lady circus ring master, perhaps?


Main figure in Amstel Fallas on Calle Literati Azorin

Artist buffing paint job on head of Genie (that will eventually be seen sprouting from the ringmistress's top hat

When we came along, they were just getting ready to add the top part of her top hat, lowering it into place using a huge construction crane. They had web belts around the piece. It seemed to be taking them quite awhile to get it balanced to their satisfaction on the hook of the crane, so we walked down and had a look at the other fallas, the one apparently sponsored by Mahou, on the next corner.

One of the central figures in Mahou fallas on Calle Literati Azorin

It appears to be about a fairy tale ball, with cartoon-y female figures. They are all making moon eyes, presumably at some man or men, although there are, as yet, no appropriate male figures in the tableau. Unless it's the foppish figure below, which seems unlikely. One is a middle-aged woman with mouth open, tongue out (tonsils visible), hearts in her eyes and decolletage lowered to expose nipples. Typically crude Fallas fare.


They weren’t as far along as the Amstel tableau and weren’t doing any interesting work on it, so we wandered back to the first one, and arrived just in time to watch the lowering of the top hat. They had a cherry picker with a couple of guys in it to guide the thing into place. There was also a guy on the ground holding on to a rope attached to the new piece. When they got the cherry picker up to the top, one of the guys climbed into the bottom part of the top hat to guide the new piece into place. We’re still not sure how he got out, probably climbed back up the wooden framing inside and out the top. We didn’t stick around to see. When we left, he’d disappeared completely inside the fallas. It was fun to watch.



New lights have been turned on on our street, and it appears there will be a fallas just a block down from us, but there’s no sign of anything there yet.

The Hoots Do Valencia
Wednesday was Hoots arrival day. It dawned cool-ish and a bit grey. They were coming in on the train from Barcelona a little after 11 – to Joaquin Sorolla station, the recently-built overflow facility a few blocks from the lovely old Estacion Norte. Joaquin Sorolla is where the high-speed Ave trains stop. It reminds me of a sterile cow barn. It’s too bad they couldn’t have come in to Estacion Norte, which is not only more interesting architecturally – a Modernista gem – but also in a much nicer part of the city.

We walked up St. Vincent Martir and got there in plenty of time. It’s about a 15-minute walk. It turned out the train was 15 minutes late. When it did finally come in, they were naturally the last off. We were beginning to think they might have missed it. 


The Hoots seemed in fine form. Pat was suffering a bit with a hack-y cough, but still had lots of energy. We gave them an hour or so to refresh themselves and admire the apartment – theirs in Barcelona, in the Bari Gotic, the old medieval quarter, had apparently been a disaster, about which they were still quite irate. Then we headed out on a walk through the centre, including City Hall Square. It was of course in an uproar in preparation for the daily mascletas. That meant the streets were blocked off, though, so we could stand in the middle of the road and admire the square and its architecture.

City Hall square facing towards Placa Reina - crowds gathering for mascletas

We took them into the Mercado Centrale, with which Pat seemed duly impressed (Ralph had seen it in 2012 when he came and visited us here.) Our plan had been to include a visit to La Lonja de la Seda, the beautiful Renaissance-era silk exchange across the street, but we were a little later getting there than anticipated, and it was already closed for lunch. So we just headed over into Carmen and up to Torre del Quart to the restaurant we’d selected, one we knew from past visits.

Mercado Centrale: fishmonger - Karen won't go in this part of the market, but Pat, who doesn't care for fish and seafood either, seemed fascinated

It’s called La Pizca de Sal. We went to it many times in 2011 for a dish I loved, a kind of casserole with french fries, smothered in aioli, baked cheese and bacon. Very sinful. (This was pre-lactose avoidance days.) When we went back in 2012, they still had a dish with the same name, but it had changed beyond recognition, and was awful. Anyway, the restaurant is still there, with the same name, but appears to be under new management. It’s gone a bit – emphasis on a bit – upscale, and has less the feel of a family run business and more that of a professionally run restaurant.

La Pizca de Sal dining room

We went for the menu del dia lunch. It was 11.90€: starter, main, one drink, bread, dessert. I had a very tasty paella with pork pieces for starter, a quarter roast chicken with potato and carrot as my segundo – I think everybody had that – and a superb apple flan. The others had some chocolate concoction for dessert.

Torre Serrano from Turia Gardens

After lunch, we wandered down into the Turia Gardens and walked around, past the Torre Serrano. Not far along our route, I realized my camera battery was out of juice – this is a feature of the new camera: the battery doesn’t last as long as the old one – so I went up to street level, grabbed a Valenbisi bike and tore home to get a fresh battery, then tore back to the river to meet them at the Pont Mar, to which they had walked in the meantime. We walked home together up one of the Avenidas and vegged out for awhile at the apartment.

Rainbow over Turia Gardens

Later in the evening, despite aching legs and sore back (me), we set out again to look at the fallas statues in Russafa. They were brilliantly floodlit. We arrived just in time to see the cherry-picker-riding workmen, who must now be working desperately to get their tableaus completed by the planta on March 15, pack up for the evening. 


Dueling fallases on Calle Literati Azorin

Activity along Literati Azorin is ramping up: more churro stands, lights on on Sueca (probably for testing), lots of people out gawking. Fallas fever. On the walk back to the apartment, we stopped at a churro stand in a square just the other side of St. Vincent Martir from our apartment. There were big plastic-wrapped pieces for another fallas in the square, which we would see partially constructed the next night. What was left of the rest of the evening spent snacking and nattering back at the ranch.

Testing Fallas lights on Calle Sueca

The next day, Thursday, the Hoots' only full day in Valencia, we had planned bike riding. It wasn’t that promising a day – cloudy and cool again – but we finally set out a little before noon, by which time it was brightening a little. We walked down Avenida de Marques del Turia, thinking the bike rental place we were aiming for was at the end of it where it crosses the Turia. Wrong avenida. So we walked along the ring road to the correct one, at the Queens Bridge (where the winged demons are). Pat and Ralph rented their bikes from a charming little girl who looked about 12, but must have been much older, and spoke very good English, but in a little-girl voice. She offered us Valencian oranges from a crate at the door. Strange.

Flowering tree in Turia Gardens near City of Arts and Sciences

Karen and I walked and the Hoots rode their newly rented bikes down into the City of Arts and Sciences, which starts near there. By this time, there was some sun. They rode around while we walked through, admiring the always impressive views. We met near the Science Museum, separated again, and Karen and I walked up out of the river bed to the El Corte Ingles Valenbisi station and grabbed bikes. We met up with them there, and we all set off down to the beach together.

Palau de las Artes in City of Arts and Sciences

We rode all along the beach front from Hotel Neptune to the boundary with Alboraya. It was relatively dead this day – not surprising given the weather and time of week. Karen and I ditched our bikes there and we walked through to the restaurants just on the other side in Alboraya to see if any might be appropriate for lunch. None was, so we walked on to the big fancy restaurants in the condo communities. They looked dead and too poncey. Next plan: walk through Cabanyal and find a place there. We did the walk, but didn’t find anything remotely appropriate.

Typical tile-fronted Cabanyal house
Fallas statue near Armoury in Cabanyal

Plan C was to ride to the church square across Avenida del Puerto from our 2011 apartment, to a restaurant we knew from eating there with Shelley one time. It had been sunny for a while, but there was a coolish offshore breeze blowing. We sat down at a table on the terrace in the sun, but within minutes, it was mostly in shade, and a little chilly for sitting outside. We persevered.

Ralph at chilly outdoor restaurant with rental bikes in background 

The menu looked okay: 8.50€ for primero, segundo, bebida, postres, pan. The one slight problem was that I misunderstood the waiter’s explanation of a paella-like dish called arroz banda, which Karen and I both ordered based on that interpretation. I thought he said it had chicken and rabbit, and it might have, but it also had quite a bit of seafood. I was able to eat around it, Karen felt the whole dish tasted of seafood and wouldn’t touch it. Too bad. The food was basic but tasty. We all had a chicken dish – sort of stew-y – and a chocolate dessert.

Pat and Karen at chilly restaurant

We rode from there to the Turia and went around as far as the big Nuevo Centro shopping mall, where we cut down Gran Via de Ferran el Catòlic towards the apartment. Pat and Karen walked from the Angel Guimera subway stop and I took Pat’s rental bike with Ralph back to the rental place. The same girl was there, cheerful and friendly as ever. She gave us a all key rings in the shape of bicycles and offered us more oranges. Ralph and I picked up Valenbisi bikes (I had Karen’s card as well as my own) and we rode back to the apartment. We snacked and vegged and complained of feeling like old cripples (or I did), then went out again later in the evening anyway.


We walked first to the square where we bought churros the night before. The fallas construction was well underway, with some very amusing figures, now unveiled. (See pic above.) Lots of gawkers. Then we wandered on over to Russafa again, via the centre. Karen and I can’t seem to keep away from the place (Russafa, that is). 

Bullring by night - note bullfight banners. The bullfights started the day after we left

The main figure at the Amstel planta has grown some new appendages – a genie coming out of her hat, and a monkey on the genie’s shoulder. There is also a swimmer hanging off to the side – difficult to see how he’s secured – and a sleeping woman who looks like a magician’s assistant about to be sawn in half. What does it all mean? Who knows?


Last views of Amstel fallas - with fireworks just visible in background on last one

The Mahou fallas didn’t look that much further along than it had been the night before. We regretfully set off for home, knowing this would be our last glimpse of these fabulous tableaus – which would all, of course, be burned at the Crema the next weekend. We walked back through the bullring-Estacion Norte area, where we stopped for more churros. At this stand, right in front of the station, they made us fresh churros – as they had the night before – even though there were some already made. They put them in a paper bag and then sprinkle with coarse-ground white sugar. MmmmMmm!

Last view of Mahou fallas on Calle Literati Azorin
Churro chef - our churros are the loops on the left

The rest of the evening back at the apartment was given over to packing and preparing for our departure the next morning.


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