2016-2017 Gap Year: Day 111: Spain Day 5

Sunday, September 11, 2016

We woke up at 8 in a packing frenzy, because we realized we had to get out by 10. We packed and said goodbye to our sweet hostess Ana and her husband, then drove and parked near the beach. We ate at a cute cafe catering to English-speaking tourists since their chalkboard out front by the walking and bike lanes was advertising everything in English. They had great music taste too, playing Coldplay, Maroon 5, and an Ellie Goulding song that was actually good. We ate under light cloth covering small tables with lights, looking at the beach and sea. We each got the amazingly fresh orange juice ans a mini jamon serrano sandwich.

On the road
A long trip using Siri and the photos of the route that did little to help with navigation. The countryside was nice though, and when we were hungry, we followed some road signs to a town we had at first seen in the distance. It had white zig zags above it going to a building we later found out was a church. The town looked quaint, typical Spanish, and oddly deserted. It was slightly eerie, and just as we (ok, maybe it was just me) were starting to wonder if the apocalypse had happened and we had just missed the memo, we saw one soul (aka living human) walking ahead of our car. We decided to follow him--he would lead to salvation/food right? We got to a plaza and attempted to find parking, then went into the bar where old men were smoking cigars and drinking outside, staring at us. Hey guys!! We´re from ´Murica/definitely not from here if you couldn´t already tell....walk away walk away into the restaurant...
The waiter informed us that there wasn´t anything to eat yet, but we got some water and my parents beer as we tried to figure out how to get past the whole siesta-time-meaning-kitchen-closed thing. Then the guy we had followed came in and sat down at a table with an enormous jamon serrano sandwich wrapped in paper. Ummm, that´s exactly what we are looking for. The guy soon asked us if we were staying to watch the game. Mama said no, and as a family we started talking in English about what we were going to do about eating.

The English guy
The guy with the sandwich asked us if we spoke English, and when we said yes, he said that was better for him too. We found the one British guy in the entire town! What are the odds that the one guy we see from the start is the only person in town whose first language is English? Well, we learned that he had lived in Valencia for a few years before coming to this town, a town that is quiet in the off-season, but poppin in the summer--all of the rich people come to party there. Interesting. He is known as El Inglesa in the town, and told us that he had gotten the delicious-looking sandwich at a bar up the road. As friends came into the back room of the bar to watch the soccer match and greeted El Inglesa enthusiastically, we went to the bar down the street.

Lunch
The nice owner was watching a telenovela and talking on the phone when we arrived. There were fresh tomatoes and such in baskets in the corner of the seating area, and pictures of the Mexican conquistador Zapata on the wooden walls. We ate like freaking conquistadors, but without the mercilessness. Fresh tomato wedges in olive oil, olives, calamare (fried squid), jamon serrano, hot bread, manchego, and a cafe con leche for dessert. The awesome waitress talked to us for a bit; she´s from Colombia and has lived in the States.

Casas Bajas
It took us a couple more hours to reach our next Airbnb stop: a smallllll town called Casas Bajas. It was picturesque. Bell tower, cobblestone streets, old men outside, a Plaza de España (apparently most Spanish towns have a Plaza de España). The house was fantastic! All wood beams and four floors and as rustic as you can get. We took a birding walk to the old mill house and trails by the Rio Turia as our mom ran, then went and ate at a bar around 10 pm. We went to bed in our awesome third floor living quarters, sleeping well.