Postscript

Another, even longer catch-up. We’ve been back for two weeks now. Mostly back to normal routines - getting back to this journal was the last major thing to be reinstated. Yesterday, I restarted floor exercises, which I’d been neglecting in Spain. 

Last week in Valencia: We didn’t do a lot. Tom and Zena were off on their road trip, sending us trip updates and pictures by text. Karen and I mostly took it easy. We walked one day over to Plaza del Carmen to the contemporary art centre in the old convent beside the church. It’s a lovely space, but there wasn’t much in the two or three exhibits that appealed. One guy, who cut his teeth doing street art, had pieces that were colourful digitally-produced abstracts. The rest was blech.

On the walk over to Carmen

On the walk over to Carmen

Work by Felipe Pantone, an Argentine artist

Work by Felipe Pantone, an Argentine artist

Cloister in Centre del Carme

A couple of other days, I went for a walkabout over in the old city by myself and took a bunch of my usual style of pictures.

Side door of cathedral

We also started to see the first of the fallases being built. I had expected them to start much sooner, as I’m sure they did on at least one other occasion when we were here at this time of year. But they hadn’t progressed very far, or at all, by the time we left. The one in City Hall Square was the first and furthest along: something with birds - doves for sure. Apparently the theme is Peace. The Israel-Hamas war has been a major preoccupation for the city, judging by the posters and bills we saw on walls, and the occasional rallies that drew crowds in the centre.

City Hall Square

City Hall Square

City Hall Square

Corner of Cuba and Literato Azorin

Corner of Cuba and Literato Azorin

There continued to be lots of work being done on the lights on the streets around our apartment, all of which would apparently have major displays, to be launched the last night of our stay. But the big beer-company-sponsored fallases on Literato Azorin at Sueca and Cuba, which on one occasion we saw almost completed before we left, only showed the first signs of starting on our last couple of days. Plastic-wrapped pieces - mostly difficult to make out what they were - began to appear at the corners, stacked on pallets. 

Tom and Zena tubed into town from their airport hotel on our last day - Friday, 8 March - and we went for lunch at a restaurant near Plaza Reina: La Riuà. They had wanted an authentic paella meal. This was the place we came up with. Karen and I walked over and met them there. We took a long way around to avoid the crowds coming away from City Hall Square after the 2:00 p.m. mascletás and thought we had it timed so we would. Wrong. We got caught in a sea of people flooding out of the square. This was the Friday before the start of the festival, so not surprising lots of people were out.

The restaurant was packed - luckily we had a reservation. It appeared to be mostly locals. It’s a cute place with lots of bric-a-brac on the walls and painted tile wainscotting. The noise was incredible. There were a couple of tables with large groups just behind us that were particularly loud. We shared a very nice salad. Then Tom and Zena and I shared a Paella Valenciana, while Karen had steak. The food was pretty good. We had a nice bottle of local wine with it - or was it two bottles?

They came back to the apartment for a rest, intending to go out with us in the evening to see the big lighting of the light displays on the surrounding streets. Late in the afternoon, though, they decided they’d better get back out to their hotel and have an early night. They had a very early flight to Frankfurt, and Zena still wasn’t 100% healthy. 

Karen and I watched from our balcony in amazement the crowds on Sueca waiting for the lighting of the lights at 9 p.m. - or was it 8? Can’t remember. We went out and joined them 20 minutes or so before the hour. We wandered the block  from Sueca to Cuba and came to Cuba and Puerto Rico just as they were getting ready to light the first display. We actually stood not far from the guy, who was up on a step ladder at a lamp post, who flipped the switch. It was pretty spectacular. There were brief fireworks too. The crowd cheered and took pictures on their phones.

At Cuba and Puerto Rico

Carrer de Sueca from our balcony - before the lights came on

The various community groups had apparently agreed to stagger the turning on of their lights. So we were able to walk down to Cuba and Literato Azorin and watch the lights go on there 15 minutes later - more fireworks. And then we came back to Sueca and Puerto Rico, where the crowds were thickest, and watched them come on there too. Then we went back upstairs and watched a bit of TV before going to bed. We were already all packed. 

Lights and crowds on Carrer de Cuba

Cuba at Literato Azorin shortly after the lights came on

Later: Carrer de Sueca from our balcony

The crazy Valencians were partying all night, though, letting off firecrackers and whooping it up. The official start date of Fallas might be 11 March - or whatever it is - but as far as the folks in the street were concerned, it started that night. We managed to sleep not badly, considering. 

We had a car arranged for 8 a.m. He came on time, but missed his turn. Because of the one-way street system, he would have had to go around again to get into our block. Rather than doing that, he just beached his car on the sidewalk at the corner near us. So there were a few minutes of panic when it appeared he wasn’t coming. Luckily, I went out and spotted him where he was waiting. He’d sent a text, explaining what had happened, I learned later, but I’d missed it.

The flight went on time and was uneventful. We had a car waiting at the other end too. Bob had already done one drive to retrieve Will from Becky’s that weekend so we didn’t ask him to do another. It was our usual car firm and the owner himself, Tarek, drove. 

He talked a blue streak as usual about his time in Egypt dealing with the Kafkaesque bureaucracy there. This time he was trying to get the real estate holdings from his parents’ estate, which he’d only in the last couple of years secured free and clear, switched to his daughter’s name. Otherwise, he explained, when he died, they might go to distant male cousins, according to Muslim law - even though his family is Christian. He ended up hiring an up-and-coming young lawyer for a large whack of money to do everything for him this time. He had to go to government offices a couple of times to sign documents, but the lawyer had always greased palms and arranged for him to jump the queues. Interesting guy. 

Tarek charges a shitload of money to pick us up from Heathrow and drive us back to Firle - £160 this time (about $280). It’s a drive of a little over an hour in good traffic. His politics, which he sometimes reveals, are slightly off-putting. But ultimately it’s worth it.

Our week back in England:  Not a lot to report. We walked Louis to and from school, except a couple of days when his mummy drove him because it was raining. I got a couple of runs in during the breaks between rain. It rained at some point most days. At least one was an all-day rain. Welcome back to England!

Louis concentrating on his stitching

Louis learning stitching with Lolly

We took them out for a nice meal  for their birthdays at a new pub just down the highway the first night. Karen and I felt it was overpriced and not as good as a couple of the other places they’ve taken us to, but it was a cute pub and the service was pretty decent.

We had two more birthdays - Will’s on the 11th, mine on the 13th - but didn’t go out for them. We had Chinese take-out for Will’s - his request - and Caitlin cooked for mine. They also bought me a very extravagant gift, a lovely Merino wool cable-knit sweater from The Irish Store in Dublin. It’s already one of my favourites.

On Wednesday - I think it was - Karen and I drove to Petworth House in West Sussex, a drive on mostly small roads of a little over an hour. It’s a National Trust site so we used Caitlin and Bob’s memberships and got in for free. The place is mainly known for having one of the best art collections of any National Trust site. And it is pretty spectacular, with everything from Hieronymus Bosches to J.M.W. Turners. Lots of Reynolds portraits, though none of the really big, full-length ones, and most badly in need of some restoration work.

Hieronymus Bosch: Adoration of the Magi

Frescoed ceiling over grand staircase

One of the most impressive rooms, a ballroom of some kind, is lined with ornate, intricate wood carvings by Gringling Gibbons, a famous 18th century carver. The room looks out on a park designed by Capability Brown - 18th century landscape designer to the nobility - and it’s filled with paintings. The dominant piece, over the mantle, is a full-length portrait of Henry VIII, a copy from Hans Holbein’s studio of one of his famous works.

Petworth House: Grinling Gibbons carvings

Petworth House: ballroom

The other really impressive part of the house is the Gallery, which is choka-block with paintings and classical sculptures, collected mostly by the Astors who owned the place at one time.

Hieronymus Bosch: Card Players

Petworth House: Chapel

Petworth House Gallery: Roman bust of Dionysius

Petworth House Gallery

We didn’t really explore the grounds much, which looked lovely. It was too cool and rainy to linger outside. We thought of stopping for a pub lunch on the way back, but realized we didn’t have time to do that and collect Louis from school. So we drove straight home.

I spent a good part of Thursday dismantling the old Ikea sofa bed in the toy room and carting it out to the potting shed for storage until Bob could get it to the dump. It was a major, two-plus-hour project but oddly satisfying. In the evening, I helped Bob move the red leather sofa in there. They think it will be easier to keep clean than the Ikea thing - which was a disgusting mess - but I’m personally doubtful of that. It will be food-stained in very short order, I’m guessing.

On the Friday, Will had an “inset” day - teachers’ professional development day - so was home. Caitlin had to go into London to hand in her passport renewal application at Canada House. She and Karen went in together on the train and made a mother-daughter day of it with lunch out and a wander around the Covent Garden area. Will and I and Bob had a light lunch at the Ram.

Louis, home from school on our last day

Late in the day, I drove to Lakeside and picked up Eddie who was coming back to Firle for the weekend. This was in return for Bob driving us to Gatwick the next morning for our flight home. Which he did.  

An uneventful flight. Watched a movie called Falling for Figaro, about a woman who quits a lucrative job in finance to pursue her dream of becoming an opera singer. She travels to the Scottish Highlands to take lessons from a cantankerous ex-diva played by Joanna Lumley. There’s a love triangle, lots of comedy with the locals at the pub where she’s staying. The innkeep is played by Gary Lewis, a Scottish character actor best known as the macho father in Billy Elliot.

Getting out of Pearson was a breeze. We landed more than 20 minutes early, got the bags fairly quickly, picked up the rental car and were home in a little over three hours after landing. 

The End