Wednesday, we woke up and had to pack up to head to the Girona train station. We had to take an AVE train back to Barcelona Sants before picking up our next train to head south to Valencia. The walk back to the train station went much quicker since we knew where we were going. The train was again fast, comfortable, and quieter now that there wasn’t some loud group talking in our car. Soon enough, we found ourselves back in Barcelona Sants’ outpost of McDonald’s (I know, it was getting ridiculous but the hubby felt it was a tradition now and at least they have free wifi).
Then it was time to board our EuroMed train to Valencia. I tried to explain to my husband that there were a bunch of different types of trains in the RENFE system. But I don’t think he believed me until we got onboard. “What is this? Where’s the sleek modern train? I thought you said this is a high-speed train?” EuroMed trains are high-speed but they’re not going to win any beauty contests. The interior of the train looked suspiciously like the high-speed train I took a decade or so ago, without any updates. But the tracks from Barcelona to Valencia go right against the coastline so I spent my time gazing out the window at the scenery than looking inside the train. When we turned inland towards the mountains, he fell asleep and I was glad I snagged the window seat so I could continue to sightsee. The countryside is beautiful in an austere way.
After 3.5 hours, we pulled into the outskirts of Valencia and picked our way through the massive train yard just beyond the Valencia Joaquin Sorolla train station, which is the newer station that high-speed trains use. Sadly, it felt nondescript, like it could have been a station plopped down in any random town. We exited and made our way towards the heart of the old center. Unfortunately, the road we needed was under major construction and my husband who was in charge of spotting the street signs missed the sign. As a result, we ended up wandering for far longer than necessary in the wrong direction before I started asking strangers how to get to where we needed to go. Finally, we managed to get to the correct street, realize how freaking close we had been in the first place, bicker a bit, and then walk to where our next apartment was located. Fortunately, this was an apart-hotel concept so there were two ladies on staff at the check-in desk ready to hand us our keys and get us settled.
I’m going to give a shout-out to the place we stayed because it was awesome, Citizentral. The photos online actually match what you see onsite. And the location was perfect, right in the middle of old town down a pedestrian street, so it was quiet for the most part. We grabbed showers and then set out to wander the center of the city. Everywhere we looked, we saw the steeples of what felt like a hundred churches. There were tiny hidden plazas and massive squares great for people-watching. We stumbled across small modern wine bars, old school cocktail lounges, cafes that were primarily outdoor terraces, and ended up in an Irish bar located alongside the Plaza de la Reina. We ate, we drank far too much rosado (Spanish rose wine which was delicious and inexpensive – ranging from slightly sweeter than I prefer to bone dry and crisp. You seriously can find one to match any palate.)
The next day, we did a whole lot more wandering. We explored the area adjacent to the old center and somehow ended up on the main shopping avenue. Despite having only carry-ons and the fact that I rarely shop on vacation, we succumbed to the charms of Zara and Springfield before I realized that there was no way in the world I was going to get my suitcase to zip if I kept shopping. I dragged my reluctant husband away from the shops and we went back to our apartment to drop our shopping bags off and get ready for our final night in Valencia.
Honestly, two nights was good in that we got to see a lot of the old center and the immediate area. But it wasn’t enough to be able to eat at all of the places we wanted to try. My husband kept saying that he could imagine spending a few months there at some point in the future. And we both realized that there definitely are more options for retirement than just buying a place in Florida. We had always talked obliquely about “maybe” retiring somewhere other than the U.S. But having had the opportunity to be in a foreign country, in an apartment, checking out restaurants, peeking into the grocery stores (honestly, mostly to try to find paprika potato chips, Milka chocolate bars, and wine – but I still love prowling the aisles), and getting a sense of the way of life – all of that really helped solidify for us that it would not only be possible but maybe even preferable to live in a foreign country, even if it’s only for a month or so to start.
The next morning, we packed our suitcases and said goodbye to the apartment that had felt like home. We knew our way around by now and so even though we were now departing from the Estacio del Nord train station, the trek there wasn’t nearly as roundabout as it was when we arrive. The Estacio del Nord is a glorious early 1900s train station, exactly what comes to mind when you think of older, beautiful train stations. I got a huge smile on my face when we walked in and saw the soaring ceilings and the row of tracks stretching out. It was the first time my husband got to experience one of the older style stations. He wandered off to take photos while I sat with the bags and eyed up the details of the station. Our next train was delayed a bit but finally the platform number was posted and we wandered over to stand in line to get our tickets scanned and board the train to our next destination.
Valencia is always going to hold a special spot in my heart. It’s a beautiful city and definitely is a place I could see returning to for a trial experience living in another country. Since my husband has already started researching prices of apartments and living expenses, I have a feeling that as long as I’m healthy and make it to retirement, I’ll be back.