Valencia:
We went to Valencia for the Las Fallas festival, one of the biggest parties in the world (and of course a ridiculously cultural and educational event). The general idea is this: all year, each neighborhood in the city puts together a team of designers/artists/whathaveyou to build a 'falla', which translates at 'flaw'. Example below:
Pepita Martinez Abietas and three friends pose in front of a falla constructed by their neighborhood team for the Las Fallas festival in Valencia.So basically, they're huge works of art made with wooden frames, paper mache, Styrofoam, and then painted. Each neighborhood builds little ones – 'children's fallas' – and one huge one. The fallas, when displayed together, ideally tell a story, or make a social commentary, with the hopes of appealing to the judges. After judging, various awards are given out based on various qualities, and then there is an overall winner. On Thursday night of the week of Las Fallas, at 10 o'clock the entire city will simultaneously set the 'children's fallas' on fire. At midnight, the huge ones burn. At one a.m. in the main plaza of the old part of town, alongside the river, the winner overall will burn.
Summary: a week-long party with parades, paella, a ton of tourists, a lot of alcohol sales, and a night of hundreds of fires.
When we arrived, we found our hostel on the main street where the parade was about to start and would basically continue from Wednesday night through Thursday night. The participants were either in marching bands, or dressed in traditional costumes. After dropping off our things, we made friends with a marching band and took their picture, and went off to do some sightseeing. That night, we found something similar to a food court at a state fair, and had lots of fried delicious Spanish foods.
Summary: a week-long party with parades, paella, a ton of tourists, a lot of alcohol sales, and a night of hundreds of fires.
When we arrived, we found our hostel on the main street where the parade was about to start and would basically continue from Wednesday night through Thursday night. The participants were either in marching bands, or dressed in traditional costumes. After dropping off our things, we made friends with a marching band and took their picture, and went off to do some sightseeing. That night, we found something similar to a food court at a state fair, and had lots of fried delicious Spanish foods.
A family pauses during the parade on Wednesday night of the week long Las Fallas festival in Valencia.On Thursday, Kate and Stacy woke up earlier than Leslie, Lindsay and I, and went off to meet up with Stacy's friend Nicole, who was also in Valencia for the day. So, when were ready, the L's and I went to what turned out to be a gay restaurant and had paella and sangria, as every tourist in Valencia should. Despite waiting for a table for an hour, the food was good and we got dessert, which makes everything better. Then we left and wandered around the city for a bit, before deciding it would be our mission to go to the beach and see the Mediterranean sea. Which we did. We successfully navigated the Valencia metro system, and thus found a beach with the softest sand I have ever felt, and met some crazy guys (Borja, Gilmar, and Levi) who decided to go swimming when I was happily wearing long sleeves and a sweater. It was a good time, and then we went back to the city for the evening.
Lindsay, Borja, Leslie, Levi, and Gilmar pose on the beach of the Mediterranean Sea in Valencia.Here is where I confess that I could just as easily narrate my entire stay in Valencia simply by telling you what I ate. Wherever we went, whatever we did, there was inevitably food on the way, there, or nearby that we stopped and happily ate. We had churros, banuelos, iced coffee, paella, sangria, pizza, Doner Kebab, pizza, Mediterranean food, and more churros. Oh, and churros rellenos (full of chocolate). And churros dipped in hot chocolate sauce.
'Churros rellenos de chocolate', or churros filled and dipped in chocolate, at a churo stand in Valencia. 
Falla before.
Falla after.IT WAS EPIC! After standing around for an hour, and being pushed as far back from the Falla as the firemen could manage and also deem safe (POR ATRAS, POR ATRAS!) we watched as fireworks went off, and a huge fuse burnt before little explosions finally set the falla aflame (come on baby, light my falla).
After that, we did some more wandering, but really that was about it. The next day we went to Madrid.
Madrid:
First stop, airport, where we met up with Leslie's bffl (best friend for life), Carolyn. This would turn out to be a more fantastic development than any of us imagined. Carolyn is awesome. So, upon the two bffls being reunited and all of us getting our luggage, we went to find out next hostel, Mad Hostel. Also conveniently centrally located, we only had to take maybe three or four different subway trains to get there. Hah. The hostel was nice, they had internet, and we got to squeeze into a teeny tiny room with two bunk beds, and four stacked lockers, with no walking space. That night, we wandered, got ice cream and THEN dinner (where we, exhausted, sat across from a table of 10 or so really loud, excited girls, prompting our waiter to suggest we get some sangria because we probably looked really pathetic and unhappy next to them). We stumbled upon a market, and eventually walked back to the hostel.
Next day: Leslie and Carolyn met up with a high school Spanish teacher and went to see an art museum with her, while Stacy, Kate, Lindsay and I went to Plaza Mayor, and then Palacio Real, the Royal palace of Spain. This is where I realized my new life goal is to marry well. And by well, I mean a Spanish monarch. Preferably a hot one, but I won't be too picky. So, after that life-altering realization, we headed back to Plaza Mayor to buy art and have lunch.
Palacio Real in Madrid, Spain.En route, a man came RUNNING up to us screaming 'Te ha robado! Te ha robado!' (He robbed you! He robbed you!). So, I stop. Translate what is being yelled at me in another language. Watch this man rush off after an apparent thief. Open my purse. Realize my wallet is gone. Start running after the man, who is at the corner, pointing down a sunlit alley. I start running aimlessly down this alley (good life decision, no?) at which point a girl my age walks around the corner, holding my open wallet (which was actually a clutch that snaps shut) in her hands, and asks me 'Es tuyo?' (is it yours?) I reply yes, and take it, expecting everything to be gone, and giving in to my pessimism. Upon inspection, everything is there. Here is what I think happened: I was robbed. The thief, upon being seen and yelled/chased after, freaks out and runs, all the while attempting to open my clutch. My clutch is tricky to open, and if you're not used to using clutches, it's likely impossible to open. We'll now assume the thief is a man. Finally, he gives up and throws the clutch to the ground, and runs off. The clutch pops open (which it unfortunately has the tendency to do, when dropped) and a lovely young lady picks it up and returns it to me. All is well.
We arrive at Plaza Mayor and sit down for lunch, where we agree to split two plates of paella between us, and have a lovely lunch. When we go to pay, Linday rummages through her purse, pulls out her wallet, and discovers that all of her money (for the Madrid trip, and her trip alone to London for the next week) is gone. From a purse that zips, and a wallet that zips shut. They steal so well I almost commend them, except they robbed my friend. This is where Madrid becomes stressful.
Plaza Mayor in Madrid, Spain.So, we browse some art, make some purchases, and decide to stroll over to El Parque de Buen Retiro (think Central Park of Spain). We meet up with Carolyn and Leslie, and proceed to have a lovely afternoon in the park, taking senior pictures, EF tour pictures, and lolling about. After the park, we crossed the street and took our free Sunday entrance to the Reina Sofia museum where we saw exhibits of Dali, Miro, Picasso, and Paul Thek. I. Saw. The. Guernica. In. Person.
Yeah.
Me, Leslie, Stacy, Kate and Lindsay pose in El Parque de Buen Retiro in Madrid, Spain.
(photo: Carolyn Emerson)
After a life altering evening of art, we made our way back to the hostel, had some dinner en route, and got ready for an evening out on the town in Madrid. With full knowledge that Lindsay had a bus to catch to the airport at 5 a.m. we left to go to Kapital, the seven story dance club, around 1 (This is early in Spain, mind you). We get to the club, and entrance is 20 euro. That is enough to feed me for a week. Debate, leave. We go home, and have a nice early night in bed. Next day, we go home.
All in all, an awesome trip to see some of Spain! A pyro's dream of a festival, and an art/history nerd's dream of tourism, all in 5 days. Win.
All in all, an awesome trip to see some of Spain! A pyro's dream of a festival, and an art/history nerd's dream of tourism, all in 5 days. Win.
Alex
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