Day 5: Sometimes It Rains
When just about everything you know and understand changes, sometimes it rains. Yesterday had both metaphorical and actual rain, and I think I weathered both flavors of storm pretty well.
We’ve moved to Valencia in August. At the end of August, to be specific. Spain, as a culture, takes “holiday” seriously. We’d been warned that the country shuts down in August — I promise, people did their best to prepare us! This concept of wide-reaching “holiday” is very foreign to me from my American upbringing.
Feeling guilt over taking time off, needing to arrange things just so in an attempt to minimize the notice or impact of said time off, skimping on how much time off is taken at all — these are familiar concepts to me that, while I’m excited at the possibility of shaking, shape my expectations and understandings. I’m also used to relying on technology in general and Google in particular to point me in the right direction.
None of that is true here.
We set out to make yesterday the day we got set up again for Plein Aire painting. The only things we brought with us were our tripods and pochade boxes so we need *everything*: paint, linseed oil, brushes, paper/canvas. We had tips on where to go and had done our own research on Google/Google Maps. After coffee at Dream Coffee (with our waiter from the first day who honestly seemed to appreciate that we’d at least gotten down how to order) and connecting with our Airbnb host (who did our laundry and offered up her patio for our use whenever we’d like), we set off to the closest of the possible locations for paint supplies.
If we’d wanted to paint our house it would have been perfect.
Ok, no worries. We had another spot to go to where a local friend (Lee from Day 2 fame) had actually seen oil paints on a shelf so off we went. All the travel we did yesterday is running together a bit in my head, but I *think* this was where we followed the dancing dot on our phone to what should have been a tram stop but, instead, led us underground only to come back up again on the other side after a stilted plea to a transit employee for directional help. We managed to find the tram (our first time here!), figured out how to make the doors open (you need to push a button), and headed to a different part of town. I was the one driving the maps for this leg of our journey and we all know direction-following is an emerging skill for me. I managed to take us on a walk *back along the tram line* instead of following the dashed line that was supposed to be our walking directions. <sigh>
We turned around and, because it was really hot (it was about noon) and because I needed to use the bathroom, we stopped for a beverage. Bill had this really tart, sweet, and surprisingly refreshing Limón drink and I had a bottle of water. We ended up using my water to chase his Limon drink and sipped our way to a reset.
With new directions, lower body temps, and an empty bladder we set off again. We were in an area that sort of struck Bucktown vibes for me and, for the first time since landing, encountered people asking for money. Well, they didn’t actually ask at all, but there were people (a total of 3 for the journey) sitting on the ground with a cup in front of them in a way that read “please put euros in here” though all they said was, “hola.” We found our way to the store and — wonder of wonders — it was open!
Lee had sent a picture of the paints she’d found and I was able to use it to track them down in the store that was sort of a Michaels crossed with Marshalls (oil paints, school supplies, bathing suits, luggage, beading materials, etc…). The nice woman I asked promptly responded and threw my meager understanding of Español for a loop by combining a letter and a number (the aisles were marked A7, B9, etc…). Once Bill and I parsed out what she was saying we smiled and nodded our way to the spot.
Oil Paint! It was there! It was in tubes! And…the colors were named differently. We muddled through and pulled several colors off the shelf. We also found brushes that would do in a pinch, and a block of paper suited for oils. Speaking of oils, though, there was no linseed oil (or any other mediums, or any solvents) to be found. Deepl gave me a phrase for “Linseed Oil” that I didn’t feel brave enough to use without visual support, so I just showed the translation to the staff. They were stumped. It took two of them working together to determine there wasn’t anything like that in the store.
Ok, no worries, there was another store we could check. We paid (almost flawlessly, I might add, including understanding when the employee asked if we needed a bag and being able to communicate that we had our own) and decided to go in search of lunch near where we were rather than heading back to familiar territory. I pulled out my “Find me GF” app and it pointed us towards a restaurant that seemed close enough. Remember, it’s still hot and only a bit past high noon. We trekked over there only to discover that they, like so many, were closed for vacation and would be back in September.
September is going to be bustly here, friends.
All was not lost. Basically next door to the vacationing GF folks was a Mediterranean restaurant that had allergen icons on its menu! We settled in for a long, luxurious, restorative comida of Greek food that had just enough familiarity to soothe. Yes, we fumbled the beginning of our relationship with our waiter enough so that he brought out an English-language menu for us as a supplement to their regular ones, but we managed to stick to using Spanish with him all the same.
After the meal we hopped on yet another bus to go to yet another neighborhood in search of yet another art supply store, this one having been recommended by members of the “American Expats” FB group and promising to be closer to Blick’s in terms of offerings. The bus let us off at one of the bridges over the Turia and we got to get up close to one of the random castles we’d seen from a distance earlier this week. Google had told us the store closed for siesta and would be open again at 5 pm, and it was only 4:30 pm so we sat on a park bench facing the random castle (which turned out to be a battlement not a whole castle).
I’ll spare you the tales of birds pooping from palm trees above, and of missteps in understanding the details of signs showing adjusted hours for summer and just share that the store was not, indeed, open and that we found ourselves on yet another wild goose chase.
We made it home by about 5:30 pm, tired, sweaty, and wanting nothing more than a shower and a nap. We also knew that napping would break the progress we’d made on our time adjustment so settled for a shower and some time spent drinking water and staring off into space.
Just as we were rallying enough to engage in conversation, the sky opened up and a robust THUNDERSTORM rolled through! I knew Valencia didn’t get much rain and, somehow, had decided that meant we’d said goodbye to thunder and lightning. Not So! The storm was enough to knock out our power for a bit and give Bill an excuse to peep the storm out of our bedroom window. It passed through as quickly as it had come and left us with time for a game of cards, some cheese and crackers, and an apartment cool enough to feel pleasant climbing into bed. I also had a bonus whatsapp chat in Español con Amanda that gave me the key phrase (hola, estáis abiertos?) to use to call places in advance to see if they’re open.
This morning the sky is clear and I’m feeling ready to embark on more explorations today…right after breakfast, Spanish class, and, likely, our daily visit to Dream Coffee.
