Tag: Spain

Week 3 of my 5-week interrailing trip round Europe

A week of train strike games, strange struggles to cross borders, unexpected new places, and going ‘home’ (or to somewhere that was home four decades ago).

Monday

Monday was my ‘extra’ day in Nice. Very glad I took it and in an AirBnB, so I could properly unwind and reset. I finished the work early in the morning and was able to go out and wander and then get some more vegetables to cook myself food. I had another wander in the early evening and then settled in for an evening with a book and a bit of TV and some drawing.

I felt very comfortable in Nice and I am certain it is somewhere I will return to for a longer stay.

Tuesday

Tuesday was a train day with trains from Nice to Marseille (2.5 hours), Marseilles to Avignon (1.5 hour) and Avignon to Nîmes (40 minutes). Nîmes was not on the original plan. Originally, I thought I would spend two nights in Nice and two nights in Montpellier and then head off on the lovely coast-hugging journey to Port-Bou and the border with Spain. But the train strikes in France were now rolling strikes, which meant you had to check at around 5pm each day, what trains were running the next day. And adjust your plans accordingly. Nîmes felt like a good choice as it got me a bit closer to the border and looked like a nice place.

I booked a hotel (Ibis Budget) very near the train station (facing it, in fact – though it still took me going out the wrong exit of the train station and then walking all the way round the block before I found the very obvious entrance to the hotel!) so that I could make an early (6.05am!) train in the morning. It wasn’t too far from the historic centre, either, so I had a nice wander in the late afternoon. Sat and had a beer and watched the world. Ate a chocolate crepe while wandering the winding little streets. Sat for a while in a big square area that had lots of benches and was nice for people watching, and chatted to Chris.

And then nipped into a supermarket close to the hotel to get some bits so I could have a hotel picnic – bread, cheese, tomato and a big bottle of Orangina. And got a reasonably early night to be ready for the early start.

Wednesday

In checking the train information the day before, I had jumped to an incorrect conclusion (mostly because I was looking at two sources, rather than just relying on the local TER PDF). I thought that the train would be going all the way to PortBou, but just not calling at the stops after Narbonne. However, it was just fully stopping in Narbonne. At 8 am in the morning. After what really didn’t feel like enough sleep.

I sat in the station for a while going through my TER information with a fine-tooth comb and also trying to see if there were any relevant TGVs that could get me somewhere from where I could then get across the border. I also looked at Flixbus and even Blabacar. There were some bus replacements running from Perpignan later that day, if I could get to Perpignan. But all the Blabacar lifts that were coming up would require me to get to the outskirts of town, and I didn’t feel up to that. I couldn’t find anything that looked like it would work.

So then I made a punt that the next day’s trains would be an alternate of this day’s – i.e. they would be similar to the day before’s and therefore would get me from Narbonne to Portbou (kind of – none of them were actually going all the way to Portbou, but to the French border town of Cerbère). And I then needed somewhere to sleep, and ideally somewhere that would let me check in early. I looked at a few hotels, but then thought I would try AirBnB. I found someone who did not have anyone staying the night before (according to their booking calendar on AirBnB, anyway) and sent the a message asking if they would be OK with an early check-in and why. They thankfully responded positively and I made my way to their little studio.

I dumped my stuff and then had a wander around Narbonne, which turned out to be quite pretty, with a canal and winding streets. I bought a baguette filled with mozzarella and tomato and pesto and only ate about a third of it. I took it back to the studio and put it in the fridge for later and then had a good long nap! Woke up in time to check the next day’s trains and my punt had worked and I could get to Cerbère the next day, and thence, it seemed to Barcelona. Phew.

I went to the grocery across the road to stock up on snacks and then, on a whim, decided to go get some pudding from the boulangerie/patisserie across the (other) street – where they had a three for the price of two deal on. Bonus! I ate two of my treats for pudding (had the rest of the baguette for my ‘main’) and saved the other to have for breakfast in the morning. And it was time to set my alarm for very early again!

Thursday

Thursday was about lots of changes. And rail-replacement buses. There were two buses to get, one from Narbonne to Perpignan (somewhere I’d always wanted to go, but didn’t really get to take any of it in and only had 20 minutes milling around outside the station), then Perpignan to Cerbère Mairie (aka, the bus can’t actually get to the station itself so drops you off outside the Mairie). They actually turned out to be the exact same bus. If I’d thought to ask I could have been sat on the bus during that 20-minute wait. But as it was I instead got chatting to a lovely Dutch couple who had been having all the struggles with the train strikes. They were three days behind their plan, having got the train from Amsterdam to Paris where they expected to pick up the fast TGV to Barcleona, but no. They had a number of days of creeping down through France on TERs and bus replacements and late night check-ins at hotels and were rather fed up with the whole thing. Though both smiling a lot despite this. They also weren’t very sympathetic towards the strikers, having had their retirement age raised for quite a while and a fair bit higher than the French plan, and themselves having been perfectly happy waiting for 67.

The bus journey was beautiful. I know the train journey is also supposed to be beautiful and I’m sure it is, but I think we saw more than we would have on the train, as we were winding our way up and round mountains (where I imagine there will have been some tunnels). When we got to Cerbère, we had to find the train station. The bus driver pointed ‘that way’ and then with no clear signage we asked a lady, who said ‘Oh no, the trains aren’t running, you have to get buses from the Mairie.’ But when said that we were looking to get a Spanish train she told us how to get there. Which involved walking through a really long tunnel and climbing A LOT of steps. The lady at the ticket office was a bit confused as she said Spanish trains didn’t usually pick anyone up here. But there were other people waiting so it looked promising. (And I had found it both on the RENFE app and on the rail planner, so I felt it had to exist.) We had a moment of panic when we looked at how much grass was growing along the rail track, surely indicating that it’s an unused track. But lo-and-behold a train appeared through the tunnel and it was a Spanish one. Hooray! We were excited. And thank you RENFE for helping poor travellers like us to cross the border. (Another interrailer had done this a few days before and this train hadn’t been available, so she got a taxi across the border. So my new Dutch friends and I planned to do the same if this somehow didn’t work.) The train journey was four minutes through the tunnel to PortBou on the Spanish side of the border. And from there I had a regional train planned, which looked like it was running as planned.

The Dutch couple ended up catching the same train. I was settling down in a four-seater when they called me over to ask if I wanted to sit with them. I really should have gone with my introversion default and said I was fine there, but I didn’t, and joined them. Perhaps because it felt quite nice to have some conversation, after a while of not. But I ended up sitting in a really weird way, with crossed legs on the seat and my back facing the aisle, so I could look out the window and not get my feet in the way of anyone else’s feet, and also so I wasn’t constantly in eye contact reach. I am certain that this is responsible for the really sore shoulderblade area that I have had ever since. But it was nice to have a bit of a chat. They decided to skip Barcelona (their plans had been to have a couple of nights there and a couple of nights in Valencia, before moving on to stay with some friends in Spain, but they only had one night left before they were supposed to get to their friends, so decided to go straight to Valencia so they could have a bit of glimpse of Fallas).

I had somewhere booked in Barcelona though, and walked down to the hotel (which was booked through AirBnB – weirdly) and enjoyed walking down, though the bags were starting to feel burdensome as my shoulder felt a bit sore. I was too early to check-in which I knew, but I also knew that the hotel had lockers to keep your bags in. They also had a lovely rest room with comfy chairs and free cold water and free wifi where you could sit and wait for your check-in, which I felt was a nice touch, but I wanted to wander, so I dropped my backpack and snack bag off and went wandering round the local area. I liked it. It was not an overly touristy area and I enjoyed observing people going about their everyday life. And enjoyed the juxtaposition of older, traditional buildings with very modern ones. I sat at a café and had a cold beer and a tortilla (not an actual bocadillo, but still good).Even though I hadn’t been to Barcelona, the Spanishness made it feel familiar to me and in particular the heat felt like Spanish heat (it had a different feel to the same temperature in Italy and France; I think it’s perhaps down to the humidity, but might also be down to how the buildings work with the heat). And then wandered back to the hotel. I ended up not going out in the evening and just eating a bit of the snacks I had and sleeping quite early. My start the next day was really late compared to the last couple of days, but I was exhausted from all the 1-day stops and early starts (NOTE: 1-night stops are not ideal when interrailing!).

Friday

Lovely train journey on the regional train from Barcelona to Valencia. It was five and a half hours (and actually took six), but it was perfectly comfortable and pleasant. I really do enjoy long journeys like that. I don’t mind some changes, but a long direct train is very pleasant indeed, especially when it’s taking you through some new countryside to observe. The train started very busy (but only so busy that there were a few people standing – not UK kind of busy!) and I did think everyone was going to Valencia and I’d be stuck on the right-hand side the whole time again. But I managed to swap over to the left about halfway through and got to see some glimpses of sea.

I arrived in Valencia still not sure whether to walk to my hotel or get public transport. I walked out of the station into fairly large crowds and I hadn’t seen anywhere to buy tickets (note, there are ticket machines at all the metro stations and most tram stops, so I would have been fine), so I decided to at least start walking. It was a long walk. Google Maps said it would take an hour and seven minutes. It took me two hours! But I did stop quite a lot and even took a few little detours to take pictures of fallas I saw. And I was soaking up a whole tonne of sense memories – especially from the little fireworks kids throw all the time. I even got to see a parade of falleras and falleros – would have missed that if I’d got the metro.

My hotel is by the beach. I have no real recollection of Valencia having a beach, and certainly didn’t regularly go hang out there. I wonder if it was harder to get to then and perhaps it was even not fully part of Valencia? Certainly the walkways and cycle paths and wheelchair paths that are built alongside the beach look to be quite modern. The hotel is fine. Fairly basic, but fine. No kettle, though. (Note, next time I will buy one of those cool little fold-up mini kettles, and take a travel mug of some kind, so I can hot drinks all the time!) I checked in and got settled and then went and had dinner in one of the many restaurants along the seafront. I had vegetable paella and then a kind of bread and butter pudding made out of brioche. Had a beer with the paella and a glass of cava with the pudding. Very nice.

Saturday

Saturday I walked almost 30,000 steps. I wandered out in the general direction of the street I used to live, stopping and meandering off to look at any Falla I saw, and also grabbing some churros and chocolate sauce (I have never had any chocolate sauce with churros that tasted right to me, though plenty that have been nice in their own way. This was right. Or otherwise how I remember it from my childhood.) Taking pictures of arty things that struck my and interesting buildings and so on, as well.

I found my street. And found that it was incredibly busy. Because it had won the top prize and loads of people were going to see it. I couldn’t get a full shot of my building (only go the bottom of our windows, as we were on the top floor) because it was so busy, but it was still nice to see and to see how it had changed. I walked around the neighbourhood a little more and then wandered along to the river bed to experience the amazing park that’s there now. Sat for a half hour to chill and have a chat with Chris. And then I wandered in toward the centre. Moving around Fallas and winding streets and dodging crowds. There were points where there were huge crowds watching parades of falleras and falleros, for example.

At some point I decided to head back to the hotel, catching a few fallas, but mostly walking along a very long straight road that went alongside the university (modern-looking campus that I’m fairly certain wasn’t there when we were, but who knows). My shoulder was getting worse and worse and I did a bunch of stretching exercises as I walked and carried my cross-body bag in my hands as I think it was aggravating it. Ate at one of the restaurants again and that wasn’t anywhere near as nice as the other one. I had a vegetable pizza, but it seemed they didn’t pre-cook the vegetables in any way, so they had no real flavour to them and the dough was a bit weird. Plus it was busy and I just felt kind of awkward, whereas I’d felt comfortable and happy in the other one. I had an ice cream after too, but didn’t enjoy it much as it was melting too quickly (I thought that wouldn’t happen at night!) and I was probably too full from the pizza, so threw half of it away. And then I went to bed and to sleep and couldn’t for the life of me manage to get up and go watch fireworks at one in the morning!

Sunday

This was a much more leisurely day and I got a day ticket on the metro/trams so I didn’t have to walk as much (though still clocked up over 16,000!). I headed out to Joaquin Sorolla station, where I’ll need to go from to get to Madrid, so that I could get a reservation on a fast train for Monday. (Getting to Madrid from Valencia on little regional trains is not really doable, unless you want to break it up over a couple of days, which I didn’t.) Unfortunately (though also unsurprisingly) all the trains were fully booked, apart from either a really early one or a really late one, neither of which I was prepared to do. So instead I got a reservation for one on Tuesday and extended my stay at the hotel another night (for the non-Fallas price!).

I wandered a bit up near that station and then did a bit of hopping on and off the metro and wandering around near different stops.

But then made my way back to the hotel to make sure I had a siesta. So that I could get out and see at least one Crema (burning of the Fallas). I did not want to get up when I woke, and my body really would have preferred to stay in bed, but I forced myself to get up and out. I decided that I would see if I could watch the crema of the Falla of my old street. Which was possibly a silly decision in some ways as it’s quite a popular one and also because it turned out it burnt half an hour later than the rest of them (apart from the city square one that burns at 11pm). I also got there far too soon (actually caught a glimpse of the burning of the children’s falla, which happens at 8pm) and I was expecting to be able to sit down somewhere to get some food, but that didn’t seem to be happening. What I should have done was have dinner by the beach again and then wandered down. But never mind. I did get some churros an bueñoles (may have spelt that wrong – little deep-fried battered blobs of pumpkin!) and a can of Pepsi.

I walked round the block a few times, sat down outside a café, thinking I’d get a beer, but stood up again 10 minutes later when no-one had come to ask me if I wanted anything (I know I could have grabbed her attention myself, or gone inside and got something, but I didn’t). And then I stood and waited for 10 pm and then looked it up and found out that it would actually be 10.30 pm. So many times I came close to giving up and going back to the hotel, but I stuck it out. I was happy to have. There was a firework display before they set it fire, so it was OK that I missed the big fireworks the night before, and then they set it alight and it was burnt pretty quickly (actually, I didn’t stay to see it completely burn as I wanted to make sure to get on the metro and it not be too crowded). I’m very glad I made it and that it was that one I watched. I think we watched from our balcony 40 years ago, but not positive.

I was grateful that metro and trams run 24-hours during fallas (though feel sorry for the drivers missing out on the festivities) and got back to the hotel by about 11.30, I think. Chatted with Chris, then uploaded everything to Find Penguins and then finally went to sleep. The bed is not helping with my shoulder pain – it’s tending to be very bad when I wake up.

General thoughts

While the train strikes are frustrating (I do support and respect the right to withdraw labour), I have enjoyed some of the unexpected places or experiences it has brought me – new towns, bus journeys winding through beautiful mountains and chance encounters and pleasant conversations with new people. Having the pass, and the fact that I’m tending not to book anything too far in advance or anything that can’t be cancelled, means it’s fairly easy to change plans. (The one I’m worrying about at the moment is the getting home leg – I have looked up planes, though, and there are some fall backs if necessary. I am going to keep an eye on whether or not the rolling strike is continuing this week and work out whether to try for short hops up through France, or what.)

It’s been really lovely visiting Valencia again and especially finally getting to see Fallas for the second time in my life. Such an amazing and crazy festival. I love it. It’s been a bit sad thinking that Brian and Jenny didn’t get to experience it again, too. I know they really loved it the first time.

I definitely find it easier when I have longer stays, so if I … WHEN I do this again I will not get a continuous pass, but an X days in X time pass and I will go for 3- or 4-day stays in most places (except for the occasional one-night stop near a station purely to break up a long leg). And I’ll probably default to AirBnB style apartments rather than hotels, so I can cook for myself a lot more. An occasional fancy meal out is nice, but having to navigate restaurant menus as a vegetarian (who would really like to be a vegan) makes it harder and also I can feed myself for a lot less money usually and ensure I get a good variety of nutrients, etc.

Follow me on Find Penguins

A reminder that you can follow along with my trip on Find Penguins – you can see a map of where I’ve been so far and see ‘footprints’ with lots of photos and some words and ponderings (some longer than others). If you’re into it, you can sign up yourself and share your own trips and also get notifications whenever I post a new footprint (that may be a bit excessive if you’re not a member of my family).