Valencia- where the sea meets the sky.
The shades of blue bounce off the cocktail glasses people are drinking from on the beach. This is December, yet you wouldn’t know it. The afternoon rays catch the tresses of the children building sandcastles while a group of athletic youths practice yoga. Valencia is the city of old traditions: family; religion; children and food. Grand cathedrals and hidden churches are scattered throughout the city. When it was renovated years ago, it blossomed into a swan, one which now opens its doors to hundreds of tourists each year.
It proudly stands as a multi-dimensional culture hub, the Ciudad de las Artes y Ciencias watches over the passers-by and the regulars enjoying mid-afternoon tapas. The Mercado Central is the core of the city which is host to a range of exotic delicacies, vendors offer local sangria and spiced nuts. The aroma of cheese and meat fills the air and for aisles and aisles tourists contemplate how much they are purchasing, bemused by the low costs. The city centre is a contrast to the alleys that circulate it. The romance of Valencia lies within the centre, the streets are lit with old lanterns. The shops are open until late, restaurant goers are spilling onto the cobble streets outside, “you need to book in advance” the doorman explains.
The University of Valencia is the one of the oldest surviving universities in Spain and is leading in the global charts. It is known internationally for the Falles, a local festival held in March and la Tomatina, an annual tomato fight.
It is the city of colour, the palm trees break up the blue and have you feel as though you are miles away. Photo opportunities happen organically and nobody is attached to a phone. It is the party you wish you had been invited to, where Spaniards are cool without trying to be, it isn’t obnoxious or loud but almost winks at you when you leave, as if to say “you’ll be back”.
Head over to my Instagram: editor_scriptoeris to find out where I ate, where I shopped and where I stayed.