Who Owns This Town
The local street toughs have feathers.
Valencia is a lovely outdoor city. Corner cafes and tiny bars are in almost every block. We came across a restaurant that didn’t have a few tables out front and were a bit confused. That just isn’t done!
Who really benefits from this outdoor lifestyle? The pigeons, that’s who! They are the de facto regional symbol of Valencia, whatever the flag might say to the contrary. They are everywhere and nearly fearless. They also seem to understand the bike lanes better than I do. I saw bird one do the pigeon saunter just out of range of speeding bike delivery drivers’ wheels, just off the red-painted bricks of the bike lane. Don’t try to tell me it didn’t know what it was doing.
Saturday at our local cafe was bustling. When a family got up to leave, the staff was a bit overwhelmed, so the tables stood unattended for a bit. The pigeons swept in and started picking at the leftovers. One little fat-ass stood behind a napkin holder, hiding from his comrades, and shoveled about a dozen peanuts into his beak. Then, when a couple sat down at another table, they all got spooked and knocked over glassware and soda cans, trashing the place. They’re the local equivalent of a street gang. I am pretty sure some of the little bastards have figured out how to break into the paint store and started to graffiti-tag the neighborhood.
