Day 8: Valencia

It is a new day and I am ready to get on with life. After being so laid-back the day before, I was yearning to do something a little more adventurous. There is this town in the outskirts of the city. It goes by the name of El Palmar, the birthplace of paella. The ones that I have tried so far have been underwhelming. I want the real stuff.

I set out early in the morning, early by my standards at least...eleven o'clock. The bus runs every hour, though not very punctually. El Palmar is forty minutes by bus from the city centre, a town surrounded by paddy fields. I immediately thought of Kedah which is dubbed as the 'rice bowl' of Malaysia. A canal runs alongside the town. Rustic old gondolas are teetered to the sides, preventing them from drifting away.

I stepped off the half-empty bus with no more than five other passengers. The shades came on and I started strolling through town. First thing I noticed was the lack of human beings. Did a zombie apocalypse hit this place? Everything was painted in muted dull colours. Total silence, except for the occasional gust of wind that blows the dust off the ground.

Every other restaurant seem to have the same dish on the menu, paella. Not much of a surprise, knowing the history of this quaint little town. I found this restaurant right next to a paddy field and had the best paella ever. But this story deserve more attention and I will talk more about it in another post. I still have dreams about that meal. Absolutely fantastic. 

With my hunger tamed, I was ready to head back. That however was somewhat of a challenge. Remember how the bus was supposed to run every other hour? Well, I was at the bus stop by four. I was also there at five, and by six I was still there. The other people who got off the bus earlier in the afternoon are in the same boat too. We were all stuck in the middle of nowhere. 

Luckily, one of the girls managed to give the bus company a call and get them to redirect one of their buses our way. Apparently, buses run less frequently during that season. I'm glad that I bumped into them as I don't speak a word of Spanish and would be hopeless in that situation. Most of them are Danish. Two of them are German but have been living in Puerto Rico for a while. They're a really good looking bunch I must add. Oh Stan, stop being such a creep. 

We all had drinks later that night and watched a Euro match at a local pub. Spain was playing that night so the atmosphere was really good. They are probably one of the nicest bunch of people that I've met. Conversation flows so easily and it's rare to find people like that. This is one of those amazing things about travelling; things not going according to plan but resulting in totally unexpected experiences.