Life: Idiotropic

Our rule about birthdays is that the birthday kid can pick pretty much what ever they want to do/eat - within reason.

So, Tiara picked French toast for breakfast which I had to prepare with a real whole vanilla bean since the Mercadona didn't carry vanilla extract. I'd never done anything with a vanilla bean before. It was strange. But I opened it up and scraped the thick black insides out and I think it worked. The kids didn't complain.

The Mercadona didn't carry sesame oil either for the beef bulgoki that she wanted for dinner. I should have taken this as a sign that today wouldn't be easy.

Tiara's requests were:
a) sleeping in which she did get to do a little more than we'd planned,
b) chatting online with her friends which she did late into the night while I read my book,
c) swimming which she did with her sisters when we got home from the city, and
d) going to Starbucks in Valencia which I didn't think would but hard, but was.

I've been to Valencia and know how the traffic and parking can be, so I thought it would be less stressful and more fun to take the train. We jumped into the van, programmed the GPS for the nearest Renfe station, and drove the 15 minutes to the station just 5 kilometers up the road in Riba Roja. Hmmm. There was a dusty dirt road that ended at nothing between two industrial looking buildings. Renfe station number 1, a bust.

So I programmed the next nearest station, also in Riba Roja, this one in the direction of the town center. Oh good! Of course, it makes more sense for it to be in the town center. We drove there, down really narrow two lane roads that had room for exactly one car, rounded corners that were almost too narrow for my car to clear, drove around a tiny square three times by the station until I finally parked illegally briefly just to run up to the station and get more information. The windows were boarded up with particle board and cardboard. The doors were locked. I rounded the corner to see that where there should be track, there was a smoothly bricked surface and a lively cafe fully of people having lunch. Renfe station number 2, gone.

So I asked someone walking by. He told me that the line had been cut short. The nearest renfe station is in Manises. Ok. So it took me a good 15 minutes just to get out of the town given the tight corners, strange signals, and one-way streets. Got out with my GPS programmed for the closest Renfe in Manises. The photo on the right is it. Down a forest lined road with nothing on either side. "Arriving at destination on right." And there it it. On right. A long strip of cement. Pipes on the side. No track. No train. No station. Renfe station number 3, elusive.

We'd been on the road almost an hour. Ok. Let's try just one more. We programmed yet another Renfe into the GPS - another one in Manises. This time we were hopeful. It is near the airport. It does make sense to have a station there. AND we saw a sign that said Renfe and pointed to the right. We turned, looked, drove all the way down one side of the street and back with several people honking at us. Finally turned around again then parked quickly to ask where it was. A man kindly pointed to the black building in the middle of the road. Parking? Anywhere there's a space, he said. There were no spaces. We drove by a rock concert gearing up. A crumby, dirty street. Not a place I felt great about parking. And nothing, so we pulled off onto another street, even shabbier, looked at each other, and parked praying our car would still be there when we returned. Got to the black building. It was a metro station. I asked the lady working there where the train is. There's no train here, she explained, it's down the road in Manises. A man in a orange shirt and an older heavyset woman in an embroidered floral skirt both stopped to talk to us and help us. I explained that it was Tiara's 14th birthday and we were just trying to get to the Valencia centro. They all talked together about the best way for us to go. Finally we got two round trip tickets - 6.60 total and a slow 25 minute ride to the Xativa station right in front of the main Renfe station and the Plaza de los Toros. So, Renfe station number 4 - still elusive, but at least we were on our way.

The train was slow - very slow, so that the lights in the tunnels were visible separately and barely blurred. The signs inside were all bilingual written in the local Valenciano and Castellano, the Spanish language that we are mostly familiar with.

Arriving 1 hour and 45 minutes after we left, I probably could have driven it in 30. Oh well. We learned something. At least in my village, I know where the train station is.

I remembered Valencia well and the streets and directions. Tiara, of course, remembered exactly where the Starbucks was, so it was a quick walk until we were inside the spacious cafe where just a handful of people sat with their coffee. We both ordered Venti frappuccinos then both decided that Venti is too big and these particular ones were a bit sweeter than we cared for. Next time we'll get Grandes and add an extra shot.

From there we wandered in and out of clothing shops. July is a big sale month in Europe, so almost every window had large signs with "Ofertas" written in bold print. Disappointment. The first shop had tons of badly organized, picked through styles for dirt cheap prices, but nothing that was even worth trying on. Another store, Zara, had a few things that were ok... some basics, but a lot of crazy colors and styles that were just not us. Sfera at Corte Ingles had us down right terrified and convinced that we'd only be shopping online from here on out... bright neons, crazy patterns, 80's style hammer pants, lots of ruffles. We walked all the way down the Calle de Colon and back. Even went into H&M and found nothing. Finally, happily, we found Massimo Dutti - an amazing store that looked very high end, but had an amazing sale and beautiful clothes in colors that we could wear!!!! Yeah! We each got a couple things and then felt like ok, coffee and shopping complete, we could go home and feel like we've been successful in our outing. Stopped at a delicious gyro shop before we got on the Metro and lucked out with a train that actually made the lights blur on the way back.

Happily, our car was still there when we got back to Manises and rounded the corner. We'd been seriously worried. Made several wrong turns in and out of the airport loops trying to get back to the house. Kirk called. "We're at the airport. On the way home." I'm sure he thought that was strange. Got back for a swim while Kirk made bulgoki stew and then we had a chocolate mousse cake from Mercadona under protest because I'd forgotten the candles and according to Tiara, it's not a birthday without the candles. I'll make my chocolate espresso torte when she's 14 years and 14 weeks and we'll have 28 candles then. :)

PHOTOS: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=126822&id=674507268&l=98693ec66f