I´ve been lucky enough to do quite a bit of travelling whilst I have been out in Spain, so here are my highlights:
1. Valencia (Take 1) - Arriving in Valencia at 2.30am, drunk after a good few litres of drinking homemade mojitos from plastic coffee cups with straws, hailing a cab at 3.30am telling them to "take us to the best club" was pretty cool. There we arrived, an open air dancefloor and an inside full of white sofas with sexy dancers and everyone wearing masks for Carnival. I ended the night (or should I say morning...8am...) being pushed back to the hostel by Andrew in a shopping trolley. Good laugh.
2. Lisbon - I fell in love with that city, it is gorgeous! So unique and so colourful and so different from Spain. We stayed in an awesome hostel called "HOME" which was really just like a home. And of course there was "Mamma´s dinner", a feast of traditional Portuguese food done on the cheap with a toast to this old woman "Mamma" at the end, each with a shot glass of port.
3. Salamanca - A day trip. Arriving at midday and leaving at 3am. A big group of us friends altogther. A very hot tour guide. A few handfuls of shots from the famous shots bars there including a "mamada" involving no hands and lots of whipped cream. The first time I have asked for a blow job at a bar. (Mamada means blow job....didn´t actually give someone a blow job, I´ll just point out).
4. Valencia (Take 2) - Another day trip. "LADS" trip. An all day boozer of beer, wine, sangria, vodka, gin, more beer whilst watching fireworks and running away from fire crackers. I made up a story to some American twat that I was with child, married to a man called Abdul and had had another child at 13. The imbesile belived me.
5. Toledo - Pretty pretty Toledo! Definitely worth a visit if you live in Madrid. It is the old capital of Spain, even though it is very small. We got to see the start of a Spanish wedding and we gorged on marzipan as that is what Toledo is famous for. Seriously, they have marzipan EVERYTHING.
6. Barcelona - Fantastic Bank Holiday weekend. There´s so much to do in Barcelona, both cultured and not. I had some good friends living there which is always nice. It was sunny (I of course burnt on the beach). I went to a "magic fountain" show - sounds lame but was freaking awesome. I ate lots of food. Caught up with friends. Saw the impressive Sagrada Familia Cathedral. Had an amazing brunch (yes that is going on the list). I LOVED Barcelona. So different to Madrid.
Travelling is a great experience. You meet so many people. You see how different places, even in the same country are. Everyone should do some travelling. You learn a lot and have fun.
Showing posts with label Valencia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Valencia. Show all posts
Monday, 2 June 2014
Monday, 17 March 2014
DAY 169: Las Fallas
We had done a wee project translation thing on Las Fallas in Valencia at university last year and so I was really excited that I had booked tickets to go this weekend, even if it was just for 24 hours. Sophie, Mei and I hopped on the bus with the "tour group" who we had gone to Salamanca with and were buzzing for the oncoming antics. Jorge, the group later, the one that we all thought was very lovely looking in Salamanca, was there aannnd he remembered my name - what a cutie (girly scream). Unfortunately though, and just my luck, Mei had already got with him on one of the other trips to Cádiz during Carnaval a couple of weeks ago so he was firmly in her eyes only.
Anyway off we went, riding at the back of the bus (coz we all rebelious n shit) with a group of oh so annoying American boys. I mean seriously, they were those kind of people who thought they were THE shit, pumping their "g" beats loudly and bashing their beer bottles about. I might not have minded so much if they were British, as anti-American as that sounds, but their voices saying "this is fucking awesome bro" all the time was just bloody annoying. On top of that, they blatently thought they were hot, and no, they were not even average-looking, they were ugly. Anyway, I´ll stop my bitching. We stopped off halfway along the journey so that everyone could pee and I decided at this point I would get on board with the drinking and bought myself a beer. Sophie was like "ooh Sarah you´re such a lad" and I was like "I´ve been twiddling my hair listening to Cheryl Cole on my ipod for an hour...think that makes me very far from it".
We arrived in Valencia, late of course, and the choice of the group was to either do your own thing or carry on the bus to the beach. We went to the beach. Mei wipped off her clothes off into her bikini, much to Jorge´s satisfaction, and we sat there drinking and playing games until the early evening.
Feeling slightly pissed, we got on the bus back to the centre and felt that food was in order, and so where else did we go, but Subway. Not my first choice, I´m quite a sucker for sitting down in a nice restaurant whilst we sip on vino and eat leisurely, but Subway was fine and I had my first ever foot-long. The rest of the night mainly just entailed more alcohol consumption around the streets, plazas and gardens of Valencia, which by the way, seemed like a completely different city to two weeks ago. There were so many people there, every single one of those people was drunk and every single bar, club and restaurant was open, filling to the brims. There were even queues in the corner shops as everyone went in to buy their alcohol for the big "botellón" (the Spanish word for a drinking party on the street).
I met a lot of people on this trip, which I always like doing. First, we have Rachel from the West Country, lovely girl who I bonded with over going to the toilet together. (Us girls always like doing that for some reason). As we ran along from the bridge where we were watching the fireworks to the restaurant which we had decided was the "designated peeing area" the owner of the restaurant stopped us and told us we needed to buy a drink this time or otherwise we couldn´t use the toilet. We obliged and each bought a big glass of red wine, obviously not needed, and got into a deep drunken chat about love, heartbreak and boyfriends. We arrived back at the bridge half an hour later being like "I love this girl" whilst everyone wondered what on earth we had been doing in the toilet for so long. Another group of memorable people I met were the Mexican girls. They were so friendly and so funny and when I told them I was from Scotland they got way too excited. Turns out that they, all from Cancun, are going to Scotland for "spring break". Not going to lie, I´m slightly confused, a group of girls going to Scotland for a wild week of partying instead of their hometown which is probably the main hotspot for "spring break" in the world, but oh well each to their own. I just hope they understand that the trip might just not be as wild and that parties on the beach in their bikinis are likely to be much less fun along the Scottish coastline. Finally, there were the other two American boys, Jake and...Cooper..Wow Cooper was drunk and I took this opportunity to tell him that this Polish guy called Tom, who was with us that night, was my twin brother, I had had a baby when I was 13 and that I was married to a guy called Abdul who was back in Edinburgh looking after my child. Cooper belived all of this and I had the time of my life telling him.
Al in all, I have to say Las Fallas wasn´t what I expected. I wanted to go because it is a big festival in Spain and I wanted to see the big statues and bonfires around the town get set alight. I actually wanted, for a change, to be a bit more "cultural". However, all the trip was a straight 24 hours or so of drinking. Fun, but could have done it in Madrid to be honest. My voice is dying today and I am looking forward to this afternoon´s siesta.
Anyway off we went, riding at the back of the bus (coz we all rebelious n shit) with a group of oh so annoying American boys. I mean seriously, they were those kind of people who thought they were THE shit, pumping their "g" beats loudly and bashing their beer bottles about. I might not have minded so much if they were British, as anti-American as that sounds, but their voices saying "this is fucking awesome bro" all the time was just bloody annoying. On top of that, they blatently thought they were hot, and no, they were not even average-looking, they were ugly. Anyway, I´ll stop my bitching. We stopped off halfway along the journey so that everyone could pee and I decided at this point I would get on board with the drinking and bought myself a beer. Sophie was like "ooh Sarah you´re such a lad" and I was like "I´ve been twiddling my hair listening to Cheryl Cole on my ipod for an hour...think that makes me very far from it".
We arrived in Valencia, late of course, and the choice of the group was to either do your own thing or carry on the bus to the beach. We went to the beach. Mei wipped off her clothes off into her bikini, much to Jorge´s satisfaction, and we sat there drinking and playing games until the early evening.
Feeling slightly pissed, we got on the bus back to the centre and felt that food was in order, and so where else did we go, but Subway. Not my first choice, I´m quite a sucker for sitting down in a nice restaurant whilst we sip on vino and eat leisurely, but Subway was fine and I had my first ever foot-long. The rest of the night mainly just entailed more alcohol consumption around the streets, plazas and gardens of Valencia, which by the way, seemed like a completely different city to two weeks ago. There were so many people there, every single one of those people was drunk and every single bar, club and restaurant was open, filling to the brims. There were even queues in the corner shops as everyone went in to buy their alcohol for the big "botellón" (the Spanish word for a drinking party on the street).
I met a lot of people on this trip, which I always like doing. First, we have Rachel from the West Country, lovely girl who I bonded with over going to the toilet together. (Us girls always like doing that for some reason). As we ran along from the bridge where we were watching the fireworks to the restaurant which we had decided was the "designated peeing area" the owner of the restaurant stopped us and told us we needed to buy a drink this time or otherwise we couldn´t use the toilet. We obliged and each bought a big glass of red wine, obviously not needed, and got into a deep drunken chat about love, heartbreak and boyfriends. We arrived back at the bridge half an hour later being like "I love this girl" whilst everyone wondered what on earth we had been doing in the toilet for so long. Another group of memorable people I met were the Mexican girls. They were so friendly and so funny and when I told them I was from Scotland they got way too excited. Turns out that they, all from Cancun, are going to Scotland for "spring break". Not going to lie, I´m slightly confused, a group of girls going to Scotland for a wild week of partying instead of their hometown which is probably the main hotspot for "spring break" in the world, but oh well each to their own. I just hope they understand that the trip might just not be as wild and that parties on the beach in their bikinis are likely to be much less fun along the Scottish coastline. Finally, there were the other two American boys, Jake and...Cooper..Wow Cooper was drunk and I took this opportunity to tell him that this Polish guy called Tom, who was with us that night, was my twin brother, I had had a baby when I was 13 and that I was married to a guy called Abdul who was back in Edinburgh looking after my child. Cooper belived all of this and I had the time of my life telling him.
Al in all, I have to say Las Fallas wasn´t what I expected. I wanted to go because it is a big festival in Spain and I wanted to see the big statues and bonfires around the town get set alight. I actually wanted, for a change, to be a bit more "cultural". However, all the trip was a straight 24 hours or so of drinking. Fun, but could have done it in Madrid to be honest. My voice is dying today and I am looking forward to this afternoon´s siesta.
Friday, 14 March 2014
DAY 166: Me duele el pie
I love Mabel. If she knew how much I went on about her, she would find it creepy, but I do. She is so cool. And being the wee babe that she is, she recommended her hairdresser to me who says they will do it cheaper for me just because I´m her "friend". Oh Mabel you wee babe. And I´m going to get my hair done like hers haha.
I don´t think she was too impressed with me yesterday though as I arrived into work 45 minutes late, still drunk from the night before. I´m guessing it was pretty obvious anyway. After going out for dinner with a few friends, Lucy, Andrew and I decided to go to a foam party at Pacha. Knowing before I went in that this wasn´t going to be a good idea and that I needed to remember to go home early, I ended up (of course) getting drunk and (of course) getting absolutely soaked in the foam. You could have gone swimming in that club it was so foamy, and it was so bloody dirty as well with everyone grinding on each other all wet. I had done my hair all nicely before I went out as well, all curled, which I never do, but of course I came out of the club (at 4.40am) looking like a drowned rat. Anyway, I don´t get how this happens, but I must just go into a serious deep sleep after drinking, but I (of course) missed all my alarms and woke up, luckily, at 8.50am - ten minutes before work! Now being in Spain and all, it is quite the norm for employees to arrive late, getting in for 9.30 am when you are meant to arrive at 9 always goes unnoticed. However, 9.45am, the time at which I arrived, was pushing it a little and Mabel give me a bit of a mean look. I was definitely still drunk as well, giggling away to myself and dropping things, and then the hangover hit me later on in the day, once I had left.
So I´ve fucked up my foot a little, all of you lucky enough to receive my snapchats will know this. It´s pussy and bloody on the top, with a massive blister on the bottom, and it is slightly sprained. And yes, this is all from Wednesday night. And no, I do not know how I did it. Anyway, I am literally hobbling along in pain at the moment and wore 3 socks today to work, making me foot look ever so fat. Don´t know how I´m going to cope tomorrow though as I´m off to Valencia again, and seeing as it´s a day trip, there will probably be a lot of walking.
But yes, Valencia tomorrow for "Las Fallas", a Spanish festival involving setting things alight, parades and dressing up. Just like we did in Salamanca, we are getting on the bus at 10am in Madrid and leaving Valencia at 4am Sunday morning. Sunday will be a sleep day.
I don´t think she was too impressed with me yesterday though as I arrived into work 45 minutes late, still drunk from the night before. I´m guessing it was pretty obvious anyway. After going out for dinner with a few friends, Lucy, Andrew and I decided to go to a foam party at Pacha. Knowing before I went in that this wasn´t going to be a good idea and that I needed to remember to go home early, I ended up (of course) getting drunk and (of course) getting absolutely soaked in the foam. You could have gone swimming in that club it was so foamy, and it was so bloody dirty as well with everyone grinding on each other all wet. I had done my hair all nicely before I went out as well, all curled, which I never do, but of course I came out of the club (at 4.40am) looking like a drowned rat. Anyway, I don´t get how this happens, but I must just go into a serious deep sleep after drinking, but I (of course) missed all my alarms and woke up, luckily, at 8.50am - ten minutes before work! Now being in Spain and all, it is quite the norm for employees to arrive late, getting in for 9.30 am when you are meant to arrive at 9 always goes unnoticed. However, 9.45am, the time at which I arrived, was pushing it a little and Mabel give me a bit of a mean look. I was definitely still drunk as well, giggling away to myself and dropping things, and then the hangover hit me later on in the day, once I had left.
So I´ve fucked up my foot a little, all of you lucky enough to receive my snapchats will know this. It´s pussy and bloody on the top, with a massive blister on the bottom, and it is slightly sprained. And yes, this is all from Wednesday night. And no, I do not know how I did it. Anyway, I am literally hobbling along in pain at the moment and wore 3 socks today to work, making me foot look ever so fat. Don´t know how I´m going to cope tomorrow though as I´m off to Valencia again, and seeing as it´s a day trip, there will probably be a lot of walking.
But yes, Valencia tomorrow for "Las Fallas", a Spanish festival involving setting things alight, parades and dressing up. Just like we did in Salamanca, we are getting on the bus at 10am in Madrid and leaving Valencia at 4am Sunday morning. Sunday will be a sleep day.
Sunday, 2 March 2014
DAY 155: Valencia
So after deciding to go on a very spontaneous holiday to Valencia for the weekend, we booked a car, booked a hostel and I faked tanned til my skin was orange - bring on the sun! I met Andrew and his flatmate, Margarida, along with two Greek people I didn't know and we headed to the car rental place, carrying bags of clothes, food and alcohol. On our way there we came across a traffic jam literally caused by a couple who had decided to stop in the middle of the road, put on their hazard lights and make out passionately in the front of the car, not even joking...they must be some seriously horny people.
As we started on our journey, Andrew wapped out this massive tank of mojito he had made along with plastic coffee cups with lids (sensible so that they don't spill in the car) and straws - perfection. We had probably passed about 15 minutes before I was on my third, much to the Greeks disbelief. You could see their faces wondering who these drunken Scottish people were. The car journey took a few hours, with me being the "dj" plugging in my ipod to the car, much to everyone's satisfaction I'm sure. Andrew and I got progressively more pissed as the others stayed sober and kept asking to stop the car so that we could both pee and smoke, such great people to travel with! We eventually arrived in Valencia at about 2am, where we had now missed check in and had to wait outside for someone to come and open up. Andrew and I were so desperate to go out at this point that we considered just changing and sleeping in the car, but then the fitty hostel man (who we couldn't work out how he was fit - he was bald) arrived and all was dandy. The Greeks and Magarida weren't too keen on going out, so Andrew and I abandoned them and hailed a cab of the main road. We just asked him to take us to a good and popular club and he was very wise with his selection as it was freaking awesome.
Part of the club was open air and then inside was all white with fit girls in sequined swimsuits dancing on podiums. We danced away, picking up masks as we went (it's the weekend of the Brazilian festival Carnaval) and drank more and more until the early hours, with perhaps a tactical chunder in between. Leaving the club at 6.30am, we unsuccessfully tried to google map our hostel and ended up walking for a good hour (although I must admit that part of that journey I was actually getting Andrew to push in me a shopping trolley we had found on the street). We got home at 8am, when it was already daylight, and crashed until about 12pm, trying not to wake the others up.
So of course the next morning (or afternoon, whatever) Andrew and I were in desperate need of food, so after watching the Carnaval fireworks in the main square, all of us went for a big lunch of paella and just a splash of beer. It was pretty evident to Andrew and me though that the Greeks were more interested in doing the cultural stuff, whilst Andrew and I just wanted to die. So we went our separate ways for a few hours, doing a bit of walking, a bit of mask shopping and ending up of course in an Irish pub. The beer there was rancid, but determined to get drunk again, we forced ourselves with a couple of pints, before finding ourselves sleepy and needing to go back to the hostel for a siesta. I didn't actually sleep, which was a bit shitty as later in the night I just could not hack anything. My belly was bloated and we were literally walking round the bars in Valencia with masks on and what I felt like a pregnant stomach. We did meet up with the Greeks and Margarida at this point, but it was clear by now that our conversations just didn't "flow". As we all arrived back at the hostel the Greeks were going on about this ancient Roman town they wanted to see as we left Valencia. Obviously, being the uncultural messes we are, Andrew and I were not pleased with this, so we suggested they got up at about 9 and went and did it and then we would all go the beach at lunchtime before our long journey back to Madrid. They agreed to this...
Well....the next morning we woke up at 10am and everyone was still in bed. Check out was at 11am and the Greeks (like they had been all weekend) were so slow at getting themselves out. As we eventually got into the car, Theo, the guy, said he would google map the beach, we didn't have time now to go to the Roman town - thank God. Well, the sly little fucker that he was gooogle mapped the Roman town instead of the beach and so took us the wrong way. How cheeky. We were passing a sign at a roundabout for the beach when Margarida said "Theo are sure it's not that way?" At this point Theo said, "See I would quite like to go to the Roman town so thats where I've been giving directions to." I was not impressed. I could feel my inner bitch coming out. "We agreed we would all go to the beach though because of the time" I said, and you could see Theo's face just bubbling with anger. I would not back down though, I was being a right dick to him and I didn't even care - it was sunny, I was tired and hangover and I never get to go to the beach. "But is there something special at the beach?" Antonia, the Greek girl asked and I was just like, err don't get all cultural and intelligent with me missy...(I didn't actually say that.) ANYWAY, what happened was we split up, the Greeks went to the Roman thing and the three of us went to the beach and it was sooo much fun and so nice and hot. We then pied out on tapas and ice cream, chilled in the sunshine and then headed back to meet them (and they were late - of course).
The journey home was dull, and after just 15 minutes of my music (even though I refrained from playing One Direction and Cheryl Cole) Theo abruptly asked if we could switch to his ipod. Eurgh. Now judging on appearances I was pretty sure we would be listening to some sort of heavy rock, Theo is long haired and pierced, he then proceeded to play song after song of Greek Eurovision songs! Wtf. Come on, a bit of Miley Cyrus and Will.i.am is better than that shit, no? He was bopping away and so was Antonia, so Andrew and I bitchyly put in our headphones. The journey ended with Margarida's music.
Anyway all in all it was a fantastic weekend. I now feel dead and disgusting and have some how hurt my leg and I think I have broken my toe. Oops!
As we started on our journey, Andrew wapped out this massive tank of mojito he had made along with plastic coffee cups with lids (sensible so that they don't spill in the car) and straws - perfection. We had probably passed about 15 minutes before I was on my third, much to the Greeks disbelief. You could see their faces wondering who these drunken Scottish people were. The car journey took a few hours, with me being the "dj" plugging in my ipod to the car, much to everyone's satisfaction I'm sure. Andrew and I got progressively more pissed as the others stayed sober and kept asking to stop the car so that we could both pee and smoke, such great people to travel with! We eventually arrived in Valencia at about 2am, where we had now missed check in and had to wait outside for someone to come and open up. Andrew and I were so desperate to go out at this point that we considered just changing and sleeping in the car, but then the fitty hostel man (who we couldn't work out how he was fit - he was bald) arrived and all was dandy. The Greeks and Magarida weren't too keen on going out, so Andrew and I abandoned them and hailed a cab of the main road. We just asked him to take us to a good and popular club and he was very wise with his selection as it was freaking awesome.
Part of the club was open air and then inside was all white with fit girls in sequined swimsuits dancing on podiums. We danced away, picking up masks as we went (it's the weekend of the Brazilian festival Carnaval) and drank more and more until the early hours, with perhaps a tactical chunder in between. Leaving the club at 6.30am, we unsuccessfully tried to google map our hostel and ended up walking for a good hour (although I must admit that part of that journey I was actually getting Andrew to push in me a shopping trolley we had found on the street). We got home at 8am, when it was already daylight, and crashed until about 12pm, trying not to wake the others up.
So of course the next morning (or afternoon, whatever) Andrew and I were in desperate need of food, so after watching the Carnaval fireworks in the main square, all of us went for a big lunch of paella and just a splash of beer. It was pretty evident to Andrew and me though that the Greeks were more interested in doing the cultural stuff, whilst Andrew and I just wanted to die. So we went our separate ways for a few hours, doing a bit of walking, a bit of mask shopping and ending up of course in an Irish pub. The beer there was rancid, but determined to get drunk again, we forced ourselves with a couple of pints, before finding ourselves sleepy and needing to go back to the hostel for a siesta. I didn't actually sleep, which was a bit shitty as later in the night I just could not hack anything. My belly was bloated and we were literally walking round the bars in Valencia with masks on and what I felt like a pregnant stomach. We did meet up with the Greeks and Margarida at this point, but it was clear by now that our conversations just didn't "flow". As we all arrived back at the hostel the Greeks were going on about this ancient Roman town they wanted to see as we left Valencia. Obviously, being the uncultural messes we are, Andrew and I were not pleased with this, so we suggested they got up at about 9 and went and did it and then we would all go the beach at lunchtime before our long journey back to Madrid. They agreed to this...
Well....the next morning we woke up at 10am and everyone was still in bed. Check out was at 11am and the Greeks (like they had been all weekend) were so slow at getting themselves out. As we eventually got into the car, Theo, the guy, said he would google map the beach, we didn't have time now to go to the Roman town - thank God. Well, the sly little fucker that he was gooogle mapped the Roman town instead of the beach and so took us the wrong way. How cheeky. We were passing a sign at a roundabout for the beach when Margarida said "Theo are sure it's not that way?" At this point Theo said, "See I would quite like to go to the Roman town so thats where I've been giving directions to." I was not impressed. I could feel my inner bitch coming out. "We agreed we would all go to the beach though because of the time" I said, and you could see Theo's face just bubbling with anger. I would not back down though, I was being a right dick to him and I didn't even care - it was sunny, I was tired and hangover and I never get to go to the beach. "But is there something special at the beach?" Antonia, the Greek girl asked and I was just like, err don't get all cultural and intelligent with me missy...(I didn't actually say that.) ANYWAY, what happened was we split up, the Greeks went to the Roman thing and the three of us went to the beach and it was sooo much fun and so nice and hot. We then pied out on tapas and ice cream, chilled in the sunshine and then headed back to meet them (and they were late - of course).
The journey home was dull, and after just 15 minutes of my music (even though I refrained from playing One Direction and Cheryl Cole) Theo abruptly asked if we could switch to his ipod. Eurgh. Now judging on appearances I was pretty sure we would be listening to some sort of heavy rock, Theo is long haired and pierced, he then proceeded to play song after song of Greek Eurovision songs! Wtf. Come on, a bit of Miley Cyrus and Will.i.am is better than that shit, no? He was bopping away and so was Antonia, so Andrew and I bitchyly put in our headphones. The journey ended with Margarida's music.
Anyway all in all it was a fantastic weekend. I now feel dead and disgusting and have some how hurt my leg and I think I have broken my toe. Oops!
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