Autobus Numero 8 - an indie flick

I made the mistake of drinking a venti iced cafe americano before my 3hr train from Valencia to Barcelona so I'm wide awake and noticing every cramp and pain in my body from this train seat. I'm in a bank of 4 seats all facing each other so I can't stretch out at all. The man across from me (I think his name is Ruben based in his large gold ring) has the most incredible natural blue-green eyes I've ever seen and I'm pretty sure I have a staring problem. Also, it appears his legs had either been shaved or waxed (but not his arms or chest) as he has some amount of leg stubble growing in, all the same length.

The good news is that I can see the countryside heading up the coast of Spain with occasional peeks at the Mediterranean. I even have a window seat on that side of the train. I'm trying to get a picture but it's virtually impossible to get a good one traveling this fast.

My last day/night in Valencia was filled with unintentional "adventure" and comedy. After returning from my rainy time at the beach I showered and ran into Annie again. I needed to buy my train ticket to Barcelona and Annie needed to find a way to Pamplona for the running of the bulls so we set off on a Sunday walk all through Valencia. Sundays tend to be quiet in Spain but Valencia was dead. Our walk included some sandwiches, some helado, and the decision that we would buy wine for the hostel and go out for a paella dinner.

I got my train ticket but after making it to the bus station which was both across from, before, and after the Corte Ingles (Corte Ingles is a Spanish department store and there are tons and tons in Valencia, even across the street from each other) we discovered that the company with the best bus option to Pamplona was taking a siesta.

We headed to the market back by the hostel and the market was also taking a siesta so we went to the market inside Corte Ingles and bought 2 bottles of vino blanco for about €4 total and a jar of olives.

While Annie went to take her own siesta I finally met the 3 guys sharing my room with me. They were college students from California and definitely did not want to steal my bathingsuit or sarong or make-up so that was good news. I grabbed my Barcelona info and went down to the common room where I ran into Jess and Kate (2 of the Australians from the night before) and also met Sebastian who, as he says, is from everywhere (mostly, I think, the UK and a bit of a previous stint in Spain).

Annie showed up to try to book her bus tickets online and we managed to drink 1 entire bottle of wine and eat the entire jar of olives before she realized there were too many technical difficulties and she/we would have to go back to the bus station before dinner. Sebastian, who had eaten only some bread and chorizo and decided Annie was Dutch (she is French-Canadian), decided to join us. Poor Sebastian didn't know that both Annie and I tend to get lost and he ended up on quite the journey with us. (It was Sebastian suggested that it would have made an excellent indie flick).

Annie and I were confident that we could just take the 8 bus to the bus station. We hopped on and ended up touring all the areas where Sebastian should not rent a flat for 1 month. We did find some fabulous parks where he could sleep, exercise and bathe but he wants to hold out for a roof. Annie finally asked the bus driver if we would get to the train station and he told us that we weren't going that way today. All I have to say is: that's Sunday in Spain. So we hopped off and onto a different 8 bus which took us back where we came from and eventually to the bus station. We should have just walked perhaps?

While Annie bought her bus ticket, Sebastian and I found the most amazing condom/lube/massage oil/sex toy vending machine ever. If you are heading out of or into Valencia via bus you will definitely not have to worry about safer (and slippery) sex.

We decided to walk back to the center of the city to find our authentic and much deserved Valencian dinner. Yeah, so did I mention EVERYTHING is closed on Sundays in Valencia? We found some pricier places that none of us were interested in (Sebastian didn't want to "splash out" - my new favorite term meaning splurge), we found a fenced off construction site for Sebastian to live in (it had a front and back door) and then we found Beirut King, which, although not authentic Valencian food (it was Lebanese if you didn't guess already), was quite delicious and affordable.

We wandered back to the hostel, only getting lost briefly, and showed Sebastian the plaza with the hat and sunglasses (and lighters and certain drugs and etc.) salesmen and the fountain that I have yet to see "fountaining" (or "splashing out" said Sebastian).

Then we found the baby with "cojones de oro" according to his mother. This little baby was laying in his stroller with his legs wide open and propped up on the front safety bar sort of thing. The mother pushing the stroller saw or heard us discussing the baby's laid back position and confirmed that indeed, he has balls of gold. We spotted a baby girl in a stroller soon after. Obviously she did not have cojones de oro but Annie thought the baby definitely had quite the gangster stance. Valencia's next generation, huh?

And that's that. We found our hostel, finished off our 2nd bottle of wine, and played/watched some pool until I decided I might miss my train if I didn't go to bed. El fin.