Dr Janet Hall

The Heart of the Holiday

Dr Jan’s Travel Europe June/July 2010

Safely back at the beach in Peniscola after our overnight to Valencia, John pronounced this next 9 days as “The heart of our holiday”. No pressure to go anywhere or find our way, except to choose between the beach or the pool; the meal out or at home; the red or the rose (Spanish white wine does not sing to us).

Saturday went well – our little rocky local beach, supermarket shopping and tuna steak nichoisse meal at home.

Sunday alas there was a bad wind and the local beach was decidedly dirty so no swim. It actually spotted rain (yes it does rain in Spain even on the plain) as we walked to the waterfront to have fish meal at the one cafe right on the wharf. John enjoyed the sardines but all I can say is that the chips were good. Still very hot and at night we sleep with just a sheet and still feel hot.

Monday morning was the local market- better than Benicarlo. Very crowded and John frustrated by the traffic restrictions which suddenly appeared on our favourite streets.

Back for lunch at the pool: excellent salad, John enjoyed the baccalau (dried smoked cod –a delicacy in Spain but not my cup of tea) and we both had the paella. It was a risk but we trusted this good restaurant and we were not disappointed. The saffron rice was plump and fresh and there was even bits of chicken with the shellfish. We shall have it again! Unfortunately we had both left our credit cards home so I had to stumble the 1km over no-mans-land waste at peak heat of day to fetch mine. There’s a lesson in remembering.

Tuesday morning we drove along the beach road with all the highrise apartments(think Surfer’s Paradise only ticky tackier as many of them are bright orange and yellow). We found a free park in a side road and walked across to join the many already ensconced under their umbrellas on the sand.

We Aussies seem the only ones without umbrellas. That’s because we only intend to ever allow an hour in the sun to protect our skins. The Spanish stay on the beach until hunger drives them in for lunch.

The water was very inviting and the perfect refreshing temperature. No surf but a gentle swell.
We perched along the raised sand-line with the Spanish watching the walkers to and fro along the water’s edge. It was like standing on the corner of Bourke St in Melbourne at peak hour! They were really going for it.

Every now and then is seen a bare-breasted woman on the Spanish beach (they were everywhere in France but at least they were lying down). One 30s woman was doing her passiagata bare-breasted which was a bit full-on -though that was nothing compared to the spectacle at our local rocky beach where a matronly woman sat about with nothing on her huge bosom –not a nice sight!

Home to eat another tuna nichoisse for lunch, which Johnny prepares so enticingly, and a lazy hot afternoon at home to sleep and read.

We thought we would check out Simo in the evening, a recommended restaurant up in the old town under the castle. It was 8pm but not another person in there because the Spanish eat so late.

We took the bait of the seafood platter touted by the chap out at the front door and found ourselves on a terrace which looked out forever along the coast.

It was stunning to feel yourself perched on top of the water and to look out at the vast expanse of blue sea (tried not to look at the ticky-tacky high-rises along the shore).

The platter was not quite Aussie-style – just served alone – no chips and salad. The fried fish was tasty (but what sort was it indeed?) and there was a huge purple octopus tentacle (which, after one attempt at a mouthful, I bequeathed to John). The mussels were good and the prawns were excellent though had been dipped in large salt grains! The maitre-D hovered over John the whole time we ate so that he could change the plates when they became full of shells and give us the wet-wiper for our sticky-hands at the end (we would have preferred a bowl for the shells and a finger bowl for the hands and no lurking MD!).

But gee the view was good…until there were more diners, including a Spanish smoking couple right on our terrace eye-line –always a challenge for us Aussies who expect no-smoking  to apply –but the Spanish smoke  on a roof-covered terrace inside a restaurant.

A very happy discovery was that there were steps at the side of the restaurant which went down to a bar which was also right on the water. We were hooked on the view and decided to come back for the sunset next night…and a few more indeed!

Each day thence flowed into the next with more lunches at the pool and another good paella.
On our last night in Peniscola we spent the sunset at our beach view bar and then went to a restaurant called Timonel which had been recommended to us as the best in town. The Spanish were playing the Dutch in the world cup soccer so of course the TV was on. John had steak topped by foie and I had duck breasts but not quite right. Lovely Spanish red! How happy the Spaniards must be to have won their first World Cup.

The Challenging Overnight Stay in Valencia

The Challenging Overnight Stay in Valencia

Dr Jans Travel Europe June/July 2010

The oranges in Valencia were out of season,the Lonely Planet map was useless and the street signs were the same. Thus we began our trip getting thoroughly lost in the east port-side of the town instead of locating our double-booked hotel(bad omen hey?) on the west near the old town.

After a hot and stressful lost hour we finally arrived and could park our car a few doors away in a small city car park with guard at the door. I take credit for that, having phoned the hotel on route to book the parking!

It was lunch time so we set off into the old town –big and busy and very hot. Driven by the need for a speedy drink and food and shade outside, we sadly chose the wrong place to dine – good name “Baldos” and John got a good photo of a bald man out front. However it was a trendy cafe with “notquiteright” food – won’t go into details as we prefer to forget it. Not such good value as our beach resort either. There was a menu but we had to pay separately for the wine and coffee.

Our next folly was to take the city tourist bus – a good idea but wrong timing – it was 3pm and 35degrees and we sat for hour and a half on a stuffy bus going around this traffic busy city we had already gone around when lost. The commentary proved to us that there wasn’t really much historically left of Valencia (only 2 towers of the old city wall for example), so at least it was an economical way to learn this fact –but oh boy was the timing wrong.

John was determined that our trip would be justified by a visit to a live music bar in the evening.
We walked and walked until falling into outside seats of a Cafe-Restaurant at 9.30 to share a warm seafood salad (just ok) and bottle of rose. Then we walked and walked to find the Black Note Bar which was empty except for one other couple!

It was now 11pm and the band was due to start at 11.30. Now those dear ones who know Dr Jan would understand my distress at being up so late with no way to get home without drama. I had to stay and brave it out. At least we got the only other seat and table bench in the place.

There was no wine for sale – only beer and spirits (they know how to make money). So ever –keen to hear the band, Johnny got us a beer and we sat and people-watched as the cool cats of town arrived for the night. In half hour the place was full but the band wouldn’t get on the stage until 12pm!

Finally these 4 old guys got started –they call themselves “SexY Rock n Roll” (no drugs)  and they were really good! John loved it but my head was on the table with sleepiness, despite sitting right next to the stage. At 1pm we had had our negotiated hour (John would have stayed and stayed if he could, though the smoke was full-on) and took a taxi home to our tiny hotel room.

A fitless sleep and up at 8am for the buffet hotel breakfast –pretty good for $13 though I was suffering with tummy troubles which had been dogging me for a few days. John went off to find the American Express office as directed by the Lonely Plant. Surprise – it was no longer an agent!
He tried to buy some shoes he had spotted. Surprise – there were none his size!

Meanwhile I was intending on doing some serious girl-shopping. Here we were, into our 6^th week overseas and the only shopping I had found was the doo-dah local markets! Sadly, I was reminded that in Latin countries (not just Spain, thinking even Mexico City last year) the queues for the fitting rooms can go out onto the street. Even if you don’t need to try things on, just try getting a sales-person to help you!

I specially needed some dressy thongs and waited half an hour in the shoe shop for my eventually successful purchase. Oh dear this waiting-game is not my thing!

We checked out easily from the hotel with assistance from the very helpful and charming staff
and drove to the Oceanografic Complex to see the fishies. Hooray we actually got a free park in the street not too far away!

The Oceanografic is a major production – stunning modern designed building which house various  huge displays of fish – Mediterranean, Tropical, Sharks and more. There were a lot of people there but the crowds moved easily and it was possible to see everything. We were delighted to encounter a flock of flamingos in one of the little lagoons!

The Lonely Planet finally came up trumps in having recommended one of the restaurants in the complex. Walking down the steps into the vast space of the Submarino restaurant we were also delighted to see that we were in an oval building with glass between a massive aquarium where schools of fish swam furiously round and round (lucky they don’t know how futile is that!).

It was a ritzy place to dine and we just chose a main course – I had such a terrific experience in Madrid several years ago with a suckling pig meal that I chose it again. Great choice for me, whilst John tried Monkfishl. We only had a beer to start (had been very hot walking around looking at fish) and one glass of wine with the meal but I swear those fish had sped up by the end of the meal!

We needed a siesta desperately but had to soldier on so we went to the auditorium to see the dolphin show. We waited 35 minutes but it was in the shade thank goodness. A veteran of many dolphin shows in Australia and USA I was amazed to find that this show was spectacular. The dolphins did the usual tricks of spinning and dancing and waving their fins etc… The best part was when their trainers dived in and did somersaults, achieving amazing heights, and then the dolphins would surf-ride the trainers back to the edge of the pool and gently deposit them as they stepped off.

Tired as, we drove safely back to our paradise in Peniscola. The Valencia overnight had been saved by a band and an aquarium. (Though even with a good map and clear directions – we still made two wrong turns that day trying to get out of town – those dodgy street signs and busy traffic were the pits!)