Early Days in Valencia: Finding Our Way

We’ve arrived.

Not just physically, although yes, we did literally arrive in Valencia with all the requisite suitcases, boxes, and a surprisingly non-judgmental cat. We’ve also arrived mentally and emotionally.

Having visited Valencia before, we had pretty high hopes that we’d feel comfortable here. And I’m happy to report  we were right. It’s like slipping into your favorite old sweater, if that sweater came with sun-warmed plazas and fantastic architecture (and it wasn’t too darned hot right now to wear a sweater, but that’s a different story).

The people here? Warm, helpful, and patient, particularly with my work-in-progress Spanish. All those years I spent with Ana Victoria, my online tutor from Costa Rica, are finally paying off as the language returns to me, slowly but surely. I know it’s generally appreciated by the locals, too. Most have been supportive of my efforts, and I’ve had a few compliments. Of course, some people don’t quite have the patience to wait for me to gather my thoughts, but no one has been actively unkind except one lady who stopped me on the street for directions … when I tried to explain I was new in town, she snorted, rolled her eyes, and walked on to find someone more knowledgeable.

We’ve already met our across-the-hall neighbors, a lovely family of four. José, the dad, owns the formalwear shop directly across the street. It’s the sort of place you imagine when you think of Spanish elegance. The windows of the shop are filled with classy gowns and sharp tuxedos. His wife Meme has been wonderfully welcoming, even if she had to channel her inner drill sergeant to get the moving crew to stop blocking the elevator. (Frankly, I admired her assertiveness.) They’ve got a teenage son and a tween daughter, both very polite. We’ve only exchanged “Buenas” with a few others in the building so far, but that’s a start.

We’re still figuring out shopping. There are a lot of options, and we are still working out where  to get what. Like Portugal, it’s probably not possible to buy everything at one place … luckily, there are a bunch of options, all the way from the fresh stuff at the Central Market to the hipermercado at El Corte Ingles to the local chains like Consum and Mercadona. The good news is that even the little corner markets typically have a bakery, a butcher, and a fresh fish counter.

There’s a small pet store a three-minute walk away that carries Lexie’s favorite food in all her favorite flavors, plus a few extras. She never got duck in Portugal!

There are also literally two dozen bakeries and cafés within a two-block radius, many of them busy at all hours with crowds of locals. Even though we’re only a few streets away from tourist central, we live in a very Spanish neighborhood. Not only that, it’s much more densely populated than the center of Lisbon, and it’s managed to keep much of the local vibe.

Valencia is extremely clean, at least in our part of town. There are frequent trash pickups for all the different sorted bins, regular street cleaner activity, and they hose down the streets and sidewalks in the middle of the night at least a few times a week. But even though our apartment is right on the street, it’s surprisingly quiet and peaceful.

So, for now, it’s small daily discoveries and victories. I’m starting to know my way around the warren of streets in the old city without using GPS. I know how to buzz a delivery person into the building. I know where I can buy the best olive oil and where I can go for office supplies.

It’s these little, oddly important things that make you feel like you’re living somewhere instead of visiting it.