Valencia y Las Fallas

My trip to Valencia included neither of the two main draws of the city for tourists:  the beaches (it was too cold) or the Ciudad de las Artes y las Ciencias, Valencia’s space age architectural wunderkid museum/aquarium.  But, it did include one of Spain’s most bombastic festivals.  Las Fallas is celebrated in honor of St. Joseph every March for 5 days, culminating on March 19^th.  I got to go to Valencia with the family of one of the students I teach, and we arrived Friday evening before the festival had started in earnest and while many of the finishing touches were being put onto the fallas.  I was there for the weekend leading up to las fallas, and so while I didn’t experience the fiery conclusion of the festival, I got my fair share of explosions and revelry.  Once the festival gets rolling it doesn’t stop until the end, with parades, people dressed up in traditional costumes, dancing, partying, and drinking going all night and all day.

Las fallas are very elaborate paper-mâché monuments that are constructed throughout the year by neighborhood groups leading up to the festival.  They are frequently scenes depicting either fictitious or real figures, frequently political, and satire and lampooning is extremely common and is a means of speaking out against a political climate that has long been mired by corruption and cronyism.  More or less every block will have their own falla, some less intricate and maybe 15 feet tall, others extremely detailed and reaching as high as the 5 or 6 story buildings surrounding them. 

After seeing a lot of the fallas on Friday night, we went on Saturday morning to go check out the Mercat Central, Valencia’s modernista masterpiece of a market, and which is one of the oldest still operational markets in Europe.  Everything from ruby red strawberries to legs of jamón to monkfish to craft beer is obtainable, and the central dome of the market is a beautiful combination of tiles and steel framing.

Practically next door is La Lonja de la Seda, which is a building dating back to the 15^th century that used to serve as the main area of silk commerce in Valencia.  Its outer façade is almost castle-like, and the interior courtyard is filled with orange trees and fountains.  

The main room features thick, cork-screw like pillars and a domed ceiling, made possible by the riches gained through the silk trade that passed through Valencia from Asia to the rest of continental Europe. 

After exploring the mercat and La Lonja, we made our way towards the Ajuntament, following the crowd of people.  Each day of the festival at 2 PM in the afternoon is la mascletà, a minutely composed firecracker performance that lasts a good 7 minutes or so.  

I use the word “composed” deliberately; the mascletà is made up of different timbres of firecrackers ranging from short shrill stacatto pops, to deeper bass booms, flim flams, timpani tams, schreeches, and whines, all organized in a cohesive and rhythmic fashion.  It sounds like an enormous drum line performing, and billows of smoke from the explosions waft down the streets and obscure the Ajuntament where the mascletà takes place. Listen and watch below.

And once las fallas starts, the mascletà only represents the most artfully arranged noise amidst a constant barrage of pops and pips and other explosions.  Everyone, and I mean everyone, from little 2 or 3 year olds to 80 year old grandmas and grandpas, are lighting and throwing firecrackers or petardos all over the place, inside, outside, off of balconies, wherever. 

It’s the epitome of the no pasa nada ethos, and kids of all ages are handling fire and little explosives.  Perhaps the most Spanish thing I’ve ever seen is when a mother took a petardo from the box, held the fuse up to her lit cigarette, and handed it to her son who couldn’t have been more than 5 years old, and who promptly threw it 10 or so feet away and watched it pop before reaching for another one to throw.  If I had a euro for every time a Spaniard said “Sabemos que se dicen no jugar con fuego, pero….” (We know that they say not to play with fire, but…), I would’ve been a rich man. 

And yet, nobody seems to get hurt, at least not too badly.  I watched one kid have a firecracker blow up right behind him, and besides crying out “ay mi culo,” he was back to throwing firecrackers a few minutes later and even offered me a few to throw.  All of my American safety first conditioning was going off like a fire alarm inside my head, but it eventually kind of short circuited because you just get used to it.  At first, it sounds like a war zone going on, but it just becomes normal after a bit.

If rampant and near omnipresent detonations seem like a recipe for disaster, las fallas comes to a close on March 19^th with la cremà, where all of the fallas (and there are hundreds throughout the city) are burned to the ground.  The final falla to be burned is the largest one that is in the main city square in front of the Ajuntament, which this year was a giant lion, and which you can watch below.

I wasn’t present for la cremà, but even what I experienced was something completely unique.  Basically imagine America’s Fourth of July celebrations, but 10 times more intense, that goes for 5 straight days without ceasing and then which involves massive and very artfully done monuments being burned to the ground in the middle of major city streets all over the place.  Although las fallas is celebrated in other cities in la Comunitat Valenciana, the celebration is most intense and wide-spread in the city of Valencia itself, and has been occurring for hundreds of years. 

(L)A Coruña

A Coruña is just 30 minutes to the north of Santiago de Compostela by train, right on the Atlantic coast, and is one of the largest cities in Galicia.  Consequently, it has a big city feel, and can be harder to explore by foot than Santiago, being more reminiscent of a smaller and rainier Málaga. 

Our visit was hampered by underestimating a whole range of things:  when we should wake up in Santiago to take the train, how long it would take us to get the Santiago station, how long it would take us to get from the A Coruña station to what we would like to see, how navigable A Coruña would be for the pedestrian.  And so consequently, although A Coruña’s food scene is supposed to be spectacular, by the time we got to the older part of town where the restaurants were, we were smack dab in the middle of the black hole of Spanish dining (more or less 5-7 or 8 pm). 

We wanted to get back to Santiago for dinner, and we had completely missed the lunch boat in A Coruña.  Unlike Segovia, where we found a restaurant that had mercy on our guiri souls, we were not so lucky here, and ended up having greasy empanadas and one friend had a layered egg tortilla monstrosity that really hampered his GI tract for the rest of the evening.  Always remember to do some research on transportation and such pragmatic things boys and girls.

On a brighter note, I would suggest trying percebes, or goose barnacles, if you get the chance.  Although they look like something from a Neptunian moon, they are considered a delicacy and are harvested right along the rocky Atlantic coast of Galicia, and especially A Coruña.  This is a photo taken from a banging marisquería in Lisboa, but this is what they look like (on the left). 

But despite a short trip with a few misteps, I really liked La Coruña, and I would like to visit again under more ideal conditions.  Coming from Madrid, I enjoyed the feeling of a bigger city that was still very different and Galician.  I also have a thing for port cities, so I enjoyed the unique feel of a city by the sea.  And had it not been February and in the high 40s and rainy, A Coruña’s boasts excellent beaches as well, perfect for the summer months.

The walk along the water featured beautifully pastel colored houses, as well, that brightened up an otherwise dreary day.  A Coruña also features one of the world’s oldest lighthouses, called the Tower of Hercules, which we didn’t get to visit but would definitely be worth checking out.

  

In many ways, the city reminded me of a smaller Atlantic version of the large Mediterranean Spanish cities, like Málaga and even Barcelona to some extent.  Interestingly enough, A Coruña was not nearly as bilingual (gallego and Spanish) of a city as Santiago, and all the signs were only in Spanish, apparently because gallego is seen as more of a rural language versus the more cosmopolitan castellano. 

The modernista architecture was one of my favorite parts of the city, and the Ayuntamiento in the Plaza de María Pita was breathtaking. Its grey and red color scheme and minutely carved details were beautiful, even on a cloudy and rainy day. The surrounding historical district made for perfect strolling, and had we only been there during a reasonable hour, promised a bevy of delicious food and drink. I highly recommend checking out Cat Gaa’s post on eating in A Coruña, and her excellent blog Sunshine and Siestas more generally.  Hopefully you’ll have better luck eating than we did.

Given its proximity to Santiago de Compostela, A Coruña makes an excellent counterpoint and an easy day trip or more, allowing you to get more than one version of Galicia and to be right next to the sea that is so essential to the character of this special region of Spain. 

Santiago de Compostela

Santiago de Compostela is most famous for being the end of the road, that road being the eponymous Camino de Santiago, the pilgrimage path or paths that run all the way from the southwest of France, along the northern coast of Spain and down to the Galician capital. 

After my winter trip, I made it a priority to see more of Spain, so during a puente in the middle of February, four friends and I hopped on an early morning train out of Chamartín, and cruised 6 hours to a part of Spain that bears more resemblance to Ireland or Scotland than Madrid or Andalucía. 

(a bag pipe player by the cathedral, the greenery isn't the only thing Galicia has in common with Ireland/Scotland)

Rainy and verdant, Galicia is also home to its own language gallego, more or less a mash-up of Spanish and Portuguese. Galicia sits like a hat on top of Portugal just to the south, and all the signs in Santiago de Compostela are in both languages.  Even when they are speaking Spanish, Galicians are famous for their musical accent, sounding oddly similar to Italian native speakers speaking Spanish.  In other words, although we were still in Spain, it felt a lot like being in a completely different country.

Galicia is renowned for having some of the best seafood on the planet.  With the Atlantic Ocean close by, the bounty of the deep is integral to their regional cuisine.  Pulpo a la gallega is one of the cornerstones of Spanish gastronomy, and, as its name suggests, is freshest and at its best in Galicia.  As a veritable pulpo fiend, this was enough to lure me into coming, and I was not disappointed. 

Besides octopus, you have a menagerie of shellfish, ranging from prawns to clams to mussels to scallops, and all kinds of other fish.  As I’ve discussed previously, the local tap water, i.e. Estrella Galicia, is the best of the basic Spanish beers, but they also boast incredibly good wine, specifically the white wine Albariño.  It doesn’t get any better than a chilled white with seafood.

We also lucked out with the best Air BnB I’ve ever stayed in. (I’ve looked for the ad itself to no avail, but it was around Ponte Sarela, right along the Sarela River and just north of Costa do Cano.  It’s a rural house, set on a beautiful piece of land, with the river just below, and the Camino itself runs right by the outside gate.  We woke up each morning to the sound of the river and roosters crowing.  That’s it.  When we arrived, our host, besides being ridiculously personable and informative, brought us a bizcocho (lemon cake) that his wife had just made that was STILL WARM out of the oven, and left us with eggs, coffee, milk, as well as a six pack of Estrella Galicia. 

(camellias are the flowers of Galica) 

The area around the house was gorgeous, as green as green could get, and we had all the privacy we could ever want.  Although slightly outside of the city, we were only a 20 minute or so walk from the Cathedral, which is right in the center of the old part of the city.  It was pretty far from the train station, so we had to take a cab, but whatever.  

The absolute best part of the whole deal was that there was a brown and white husky named Lupa who roamed freely on the property and who was absolutely one of the sweetest pups I’ve ever come across.  She never barked and was so well behaved that you couldn’t drag her into the house. 

In so far as sights go, the Cathedral is magnificent, and of all the cathedrals I’ve seen in Europe, it’s the most impressive.  Although the exterior façade was being restored, with scaffolding and the whole bit, the interior and the courtyard area were breathtaking.  I’m not normally one to be super into going inside cathedrals, but this was absolutely worth it.  

We saw several groups of peregrinos (pilgrims who have done the camino) outside the cathedral, waiting for mass, and it must be an indescribable experience to reach such a beautiful place after so much effort.  The camino is definitely on my bucketlist. 

There wasn’t much of a party scene per se, especially after being used to Madrid’s electric nights, and although we ended up being in the city during Carnival, celebration was fairly muted, probably due in large part to the unceasing rain.  Still, the tapas and food scene was next level, and we bar hopped quite happily around the old town, so much so that we forgot to pay at a restaurant and were followed (rather calmly to her credit) by a waiter for a block or so before we realized our mistake.

It was a very Spanish weekend, lots of tapas, lots of good wine, many cañas.  And to walk home by the cathedral and through the historic center, then hitting the winding road that led to the river and entering into the gate of our airbnb, being greeted by Lupa before going to sleep to the sound of the river, was an incredibly welcome respite from the hustle and bustle of Madrid. 

For more information, I highly recommend checking out a veritable auxiliar legend's blog, A Texan in Spain, run by a guy named Trevor who lived and worked in Santiago de Compostela for two years.  Santiago de Compostela and Galicia more generally should be a must visit for anyone spending time in Spain.  It's like nowhere else in the country.  

Budapest

Before coming to Europe, I’m not even sure that I knew Budapest was in Hungary.  Besides being in the title of a Wes Anderson movie, my only knowledge of the place was an offhand comment my high school history teacher made regarding the fact that one half was Buda and the other was Pest.  But as soon as I was in Madrid, it seemed like everybody was raving about Budapest, from other auxiliaries to my Spanish co-workers.  It ended up being the final stop of my winter trip, as well as where I rang in 2015.

Just like my teacher said, Budapest is composed of two parts, divided in the middle by the Danube River.  Buda, on the west side of the river, is the older part and is home to the Fisherman’s Bastion, the Buda Castle, and the Royal Palace.  

It’s reminiscent of Prague with its cobblestone streets, short and colorful buildings, and impressive churches.  Pest, on the eastern side of the river, is the modern and thriving side of the Hungarian capital, and where you’ll spend the majority of your time, especially at night.

Budapest has a bit of a reputation as a party capital.  First of all, it’s relatively cheap.  The Hungarian forint was about 280:1 euro when I was there over the winter, and you can normally get a beer for like 3 €.  The club scene is huge, with the clubs tending to be multilevel with dozens of DJs playing a grab bag of styles in different rooms.  One I particularly enjoyed was Corvinteto, and I rang in the New Year at Morrison's 2. 

Budapest is most famous for its “ruin bars,” large sprawling multi-level party spaces built in what were once abandoned buildings, sometimes in formerly abandoned lots, scrap heap cars that are turned into seating areas, all kinds of refuse transformed into bricabrac chic.  

And if it sounds sketchy, it’s not.  The one I got the chance to visit was called Szimpla Kert and it’s hands down one of the coolest bars I’ve ever been to.  It has everything:  spaces for live music, spaces for DJs, beer bars, wine bars, food bars, cocktail bars, etc.  The other big ruin bar is Instant. 

Most of the ruin bars are located in the old Jewish area, which now seems to be the hip and happening place to be.  Another cool and more modern bar in the area is Kolor, with good local craft beer available and a bumping basement.  If you’re looking for good coffee, I had some of the best espresso I’ve had at Cirkusz.

Similarly, a lot of the hostels are “party hostels.”  The one I stayed at was called Red Fox Hostel and was just recently opened.  It was OK, but I don’t think it has the same clout as some of the more established party hostels in the city.  The good thing though is that there are events every night that a lot of the hostels go to, ranging from pub-crawls to boat parties on the Danube, so you won’t find yourself without anything to do or without people to do it with. 

photo taken from:  Visit Budapest

One of the biggest draws of Budapest is the plentiful thermal baths scattered around the city.  The most famous is the Széchenyi Baths, located in the City Park, a bit north of the city center, but accessible by metro.  I went to what can only be called a spa-rty the night before New Years Eve, which was essentially an enormous pool rave, with everybody swimming and drinking in the baths, despite the fact that the air temperature was way below freezing, while a DJ played music synched to a light show that combined spectacularly with the steam coming off of the water.  So whether you want to recover from a hangover or get a hangover, the baths are a good bet.

In terms of sights, the most spectacular is the Parliament, located on the east side of the river.  The red dome and spired building is certain to astonish, and whether up close or from across the Danube in Buda, the building is one of the most unique and architecturally impressive in Europe.  Besides that the Chain Bridge across the Danube is striking.  On a more historical note, along the west side of the Danube, just north of the Chain Bridge but before Parliament, you’ll see bronze pairs of shoes, right along the edge. 

Hungary came under the control of a fascist political party right towards the end of World War II, and in only a year and change managed to execute tens of thousands of Hungarian citizens, the vast majority of them being Jews along the edge of the Danube, where there dead bodies would then fall in and wash away down the river. I had no idea about that element of WWII history, and the memorial is simple but haunting. 

Food-wise, Budapest offers fairly typical central European fare, stewed meat and carbs, either in the form of potatoes or butter pasta.  Goulash is common, but Hungary is most famous for paprika.  I had some good chicken paprikash at a restaurant in Buda that was, ironically enough, named after the Catalan painter Joan Miró.  A lot of the beer I had was pretty average, but evidently Hungary is supposed to produce pretty good wine, which I didn’t expect. 

For being a wild card, Budapest was a wonderfully pleasant surprise.  It’s a beautiful city with a night life that’s among one of the most intense and unique that I’ve experienced.  Walk the city and take in the sights during the day, take a soak in the baths, and go hard at night.