Los Valencianos: Encuentros hasta ahora.

I’ve made quite a lot of visits to Valencia now. If I had to give a short, generalised description of Valencians given my experiences to date, I’d say:

Gregarious, friendly, generous and approachable.

But let’s break it down into the most-encountered sub-sections: 


Our neighbours  

I’ve written an older blog post about our neighbours ("Nuestros Vecinos") and an update will follow as we get to know them better. Suffice to say that I think we’ll enjoy sharing an apartment building and a barrio with them. 


Waiters/waitresses 

Almost without exception, these citizens are friendly, patient and welcoming. Valencians like

to spend most of their lives outside, and much of this time is spent eating, drinking and talking. This makes waiters and waitresses very important people, but the customer has a big part to play here. It’s not a one-way street.

Valencians are outdoor people... all year round.

The first thing you have to do is get over your Northern-European expectations around speed of service. If your server is talking to their mates when they should be serving you, don’t be surprised or offended. It’s the way it is. If they choose to serve someone who you just know arrived after you… it’s the way they felt like doing it. They’re not being rude. When they finally come to take your order, they will most likely be welcoming and friendly, and you’ll soon forget that you had to wait.

The chances are that they’ll enhance your experience of the café or restaurant. Some will even take a genuine interest in what you’re doing, and why you’re there, if you make the effort to engage them in conversation.

One day, you might be the mates they’re chatting to when they should be serving impatient tourists. 


Taxi drivers 

Our stats based on experience so far suggest that 50% are grumpy bastards.

The other 50% are such engaging individuals that you instantly want to invite them out for a beer and a few laughs. I'm not sure why this is, and perhaps it requires a more scientific study to explain the phenomenon. Either way, you tend to get to where you need to go in exchange for a little of your efectivo. Taxis are generally good and inexpensive in comparison to many cities, even when driven by the grumpy 50%.

The city doesn’t seem to be an easy place to be a taxi driver, so this might explain the first 50%, and give even more kudos to the rest. 


Shop owners & their staff 

You might encounter the “talking to my mates” thing here also, but people serving you in shops tend to be disarmingly charming.

I’m not naïve enough to ignore the fact that they want to separate you from your hard-earned €, but it’s becoming increasingly clear that this charm is entirely genuine much of the time. From the tiniest local store to the massive retail cathedrals of Corte Inglés, you will always be asked (with a smile) if you need any help, and they will always be happy to provide it… smile included again. If they don’t have what you want, you often get the impression they will feel bad about this for several hours afterwards.

I have never encountered anything but patience with my Spanish language efforts, and the vast majority of transactions, large or small, have been successfully completed thanks to the bright and helpful approach of your tendero. 


Los Ancianos 

There are a lot of elderly people in Valencia. A lifestyle/diet/climate thing? Good healthcare? It is a little weird how you do actually feel better when you're in Valencia, than you might in damp, grey Yorkshire. All in the mind? Who knows?

Los Mayores give the city a certain dignity and a link with the past. I often try to imagine some of the things that the older ones have seen in their long lives. They will remember (whether they choose to acknowledge it or not) some of the Franco years. They will remember the devastation of the 1957 Valencia Flood. They will remember the recovery of the 1960s and the re-establishment of democracy in the 1970s. They will remember the establishment of the autonomous communities, and perhaps they shed a tear of Valencian pride when they became a part of Communidad Valenciana. 

Many might say that they are Valencian first, and Spanish second, such is the pride Valencians have in their culture and regional identity.

They have seen such change that it would be a delight to sit with them and hear their tales over a carajillo. The lingering remnants of the “Pacto del Olvido”* may make this awkward even today, as would my grasp of the Spanish language, but perhaps one day.

There’s one thing for sure… if they have something they wish to tell you, they won’t hesitate. I once made the mistake of leaving my bag on the floor at Café Sant Jaume (it is bad luck to leave a bag on the floor in Spain, and is deemed unacceptable) and a passing elderly lady launched into a rant so passionate (and public) that my bag was instantly provided with a chair of its own while I respectfully acknowledged my error.

Don’t get me wrong though, your Valencian anciano doesn’t mind a giggle. When a trilby-hatted old boy and myself bumped in unison into the non-opening “automatic” doors of Corte Inglés one day, we enjoyed a shared chuckle that brightened my whole day. I hope it brightened his day too.

I like the stubborn, grumpy old boys, because they’re generally lovely people. I also have real admiration for the elderly ladies who still dress up for the evening stroll. They’ll take a drink and a little tapas with their friends, and their stubborn and grumpy (but proud and dignified) old boys. 


La Familia 

The family is a sacred institution in Spain, that's a fact. What follows is not necessarily fact, but merely my observations.

Los Mayores (see above) are revered, respected and cared for, and they enjoy quality time with the whole family group. They are very much included in family life, however elderly and infirm.

To be a child in Valencia (and Spain in general) is to be the star of the show. Everyone’s children are quite simply adored by everyone. Valencian parents and grandparents appear to do an incredible job of bringing up their children, and it's heartwarming to to see that they are included in everything. They will have a seat at the table that involves them... they won’t be parked out of the way under any circumstances. When out for a meal or occasion, I am always impressed to see them dressed in the best clothes that the family can dress them in. It does appear that this upbringing includes indulging their every whim and desire, of course. Parents will proudly dote, pamper and put the children first at all times. It seems that every time a child sees their abuela and/or abuelo, the result is a new toy/pair of shoes/item of clothing/amount of cash.

We never took our children to Spain when they were very small, but I’ve observed the children of foreign visitors being descended upon by groups of middle-aged Spanish ladies. Once the child has had its rosy cheeks pinched, hair tousled and has attempted to fight off a deluge of besos, the Northern-European parent may have recovered enough to understand that any child is worshipped as such in Spain, however odd (and very forward) this may seem to us.

The parents don’t appear to be left out, either. Brothers/sisters/aunties/uncles/cousins support parents, make sure they’re coping, and take a little of the weight off their shoulders. I have huge respect for all of the above… it’s a part of the Spanish culture that I admire enormously. It’s easy to imagine how it’s helped the Spanish through harder times. 


Callejeros 

The Neptune fountain in Plaza de la Virgen. "Please take a photo of us!"

You meet a lot of people in Valencia out on the street. They want you to give them cash. They want directions. They want you to take a photo of them on their phone in front of the Neptune fountain. They want to sell you a rose. They want you to come into their restaurant. They may mutter “guiris!” in your general direction as you pass in the street. They want you to see their street performance, or hear their music, good or bad. They often gather to demonstrate about/against something. They sometimes simply want to chat. So much time is spent outside… at cafés, on restaurant terraces or simply walking and taking it all in that all of these people become part of the city, part of the experience.

I don’t think we’d have it any other way. Sometimes the city is so full of life that it threatens to burst. A little advice, just from my point of view: before you seek refuge from the noise and haste, make sure you take all of this in as part of your Valencia experience, whether you're able to do this for a day or for a year.

For all the soaring architecture, endless amazing food, great weather, culture, entertainment, sport and attractions... it's the people that make the city. You don't have to be in Valencia very long to realise this.

*The Pact of Forgetting is the Spanish political decision to avoid dealing with the legacy of Francoism after the 1975 death of General Francisco Franco, who had remained in power since the 1936-1939 Spanish Civil War.

Los Peatones

Valencia is a very walkable city. It’s flat, and the central area is compact. You can navigate around all the city centre sights on foot, if you’re lucky enough to be able to do so.

The Torres Serranos and the Real Señera de Valencia.

A walk from Torres Serranos (“our” entrance to the old city on the northern side) to the Estacion del Norte (at the southern edge of the city centre) feels like a comfortable distance.

We do a huge amount of walking when we’re in Valencia. It’s odd in a way, because public transport is very good. There’s a bus stop literally around the corner from our apartment that can take us to Calle de la Paz in no time. You can get off this bus to one of my favourite views in the city, looking up La Paz to the beautiful bell tower of Santa Catalina.

But we walk, and it rarely even merits discussion. If it was ever discussed, I think the rationale might be that we’re afraid to miss anything. Gliding past on the bus, you'll miss a lot of what there is to see and hear on the way.

As an example, let’s take the 3km-ish walk from our apartment to (one of the 2) Corte Ingles stores in the Calle Colon shopping district. We visit this store regularly. It’s nothing short of astounding how many lamps a 3-bed apartment needs.

We leave the apartment building, enjoying the familiar sights and sounds of our barrio. We pass our vecinos chatting around the benches on the corner. A little further on down Calle Sarrion and into Avenida Constitucion, local peluquerias deal with demanding elderly ladies in their weekly quest for the perfect “do”. We deal with the Spanish habit of NEVER giving way when walking up a narrow pavement, by stepping meekly aside like true extranjeros.

The Metrovalencia tranvia crosses Avenida Constitucion.

Following the Avenida Constitucion traffic south and crossing the lines of the tranvia, we’ll be in need of coffee at one of the cafés on Calle Reus. La camarera greets us like old friends, and asks “qué tal?”, despite us being barely familiar faces.

Passing the end of Calle Malaga heading south, the shops, bars, workshops, garages and roads grow bigger, busier and noisier. In Valencia, as in the rest of Spain, people interact with each other non-stop, generally at full volume.

The relative peace of the glorious Jardin del Turia soon gives way to the imposing Torres Serranos. Passing through these historic city gates, we’re immediately in old Valencia. The cafés have a different vibe. Valencians commonly use cafés in tourist areas, but here they compete for space with hired bicycles, maps, cameras and the astonishingly common sock/sandal combination.

Continuing through the narrow streets that zig-zag towards Calle Navellos and the Plaza de la Virgen, it makes me happy to see an old city in a constant state of renovation, where you can always see a building being worked on, inside or out.

The beauty of the Plaza de la Virgen never wears thin, despite its starring role in the tourist trap epicenter. We often choose a table in a café at the corner of the square and people-watch over a late breakfast. The school parties are the most engaging. The common denominator (whatever age) is a rucksack full of food. Whatever the time of day, no opportunity to snack can be missed when on a school trip.

Plaza de la Reina. Due for a facelift.

Probably my least favourite part of the historic centre is Calle de la Micalet, which takes you past the western side of the Cathedral towards Plaza de la Reina. Collected here are buskers of dubious quality, sellers of "artesan" trinkets or uninspiring paintings of Valencian sights... and those “street performers” who appear to think that painting themselves gold and sitting very still constitutes an “act”. Here you’ll also find the professional beggar. I am mindful of the many genuine cases of poverty in the city (and everywhere else) but you can see and hear learners being openly “coached” in better technique. What to say for best effect, and what to write on the sign that you hang around your neck, or place in front of you on the pavement. It’s difficult to remain non-judgemental.

The most famous of burger chains has a site within anointing distance of a magnificent cathedral first consecrated in 1238. We try to ignore this almost unbearable juxtaposition, and wander across Plaza de la Reina. It’s a beautiful square (and due for a total refurbishment in 2017/18) but this is tourist central. Buses, coaches, taxis, tours, shops, counterfeit handbag-sellers and over-priced restaurants compete for attention.

Calle la Paz and the tower of Santa Catalina.

Left down Calle la Paz, and then right into Calle del Marqués de Dos Aguas, and relative peace descends. Here, the real Hermes and Louis Vuitton display their costly (but at least authentic) handbags across the road from the astonishing façade of the Ceramics Museum. Left into Plaza del Patriarca, and the ever-present temptation to indulge in the simple pleasure of a walk through the courtyard of La Nau. On an early visit, this beautiful part of the old University of Valencia helped to usher me almost unconsciously into the "I Heart Valencia" club.

The statue of Lluís Vives enjoys his position
supervising the peaceful courtyard of La Nau.

Leaving this little haven of history, peace and elegance, you’re soon into the buzz of the financial district. Smart suits and heavy traffic, notarios and banqueros. The places we sometimes like to eat on shopping Saturdays on Calle Dr. Romagosa are heavily populated with suits, sunglasses and demonstrative Valencian gesturing (important legal matters) on a weekday. Probably best to press on to Calle Pérez Bayer, and the swishing, welcoming doors of Corte Inglés.

Retail. This is where retail is done on an epic scale. All of the large Corte Inglés stores in Valencia are seemingly limitless, air-conditioned temples dedicated to the gods of retail. We’ve foolishly tried to avoid shopping here in the past, believing that this wasn’t the place for a bargain. But there are reasons why they became so successful, aren't there? We’ve given in to it now, and just go there first. It’s like a magnet.

The goods are quality, the service is excellent, and you can buy everything your heart desires. It’s the place you need to be when you’re furnishing and equipping an apartment, unless you have unlimited time to seek out the alternatives. Which we don’t.

Having navigated through more retail-related dialogue in Spanish, and relinquished yet more €s into their welcoming embrace, the Corte Inglés elevators bring us back to earth once again. We pick our way across Calle Colon to the line of taxis, and our clumsy packages are transported back to their new home.

We’ve become very good at walking around Valencia. And frighteningly good at shopping. Particularly for lamps.