Today weve decided to treat ourselves to a day relaxing on Playa de las Arenas, one of Valencias city beaches, so off we head on the bus. I think the name roughly translates to Beach of the Sands, and they werent kidding, theres masses of the stuff. We think we can see the water in the distance, but it feels like it could take us a couple of days to get there from the promenade. Perhaps not surprisingly the first 800 metres or so of the sandy crossing doesnt have any people on it; theyre all in the last two hundred or so metres nearest the water. We do however notice one exception, a bikini clad maiden lying out in the middle of the otherwise empty expanse, all by herself, half a kilometre or so from the sea, right next to one of the only other things that are out there - rubbish bins. I suppose its possible she might be planning on generating a lot of waste during the day and decided to save herself a walk. Were not quite sure why there are so many rubbish bins out on this empty expanse, where, with one exception, there are no
people. I suppose they could be going for the Worlds Cleanest Beach title, but if that was the case I would have thought it might be better to put the bins where the people are, down near the water. I think I might be missing something here.
We settle in on our sunlounges under a thatched umbrella, and head in for a cooling dip, well not that cooling; were told the water heres a tepid 27 degrees - just about acceptable says Issy.
I go for a wander. Theres a fancy looking beach club at the south end of the sand, and a large marina filled with luxury yachts that look like they probably belong to the rich and famous. And there are a couple of cruise ships here as well, which I think these days are known as COVID prisons. I hope none of the inmates have escaped onto our beach anywhere near where were lying.
Its time to go back to the apartment so we follow the Google machines directions to the bus stop. It doesnt look all that much like a bus stop, but if the Google machine says it is, well.
We wave down the bus, and the driver stops and opens the door. Hes got out his ears, and hes ranting something in Spanish about this not being a bus stop, and the real stop being a few hundred metres around the corner. Were lucky he stopped, so were thinking that now might not be the best time to tell him that according to the Google machine hes wrong, so we run with the time honoured approach in situations like these - pretend weve got no idea what hes talking about, smile broadly, and say thanks mate, have good day in our broadest possible Aussie accents.
Back at the apartment, as I try to open the front door onto the street Im pretty sure I can feel water dripping onto my head. Its a cloudless day, in fact now that I think about it Im not entirely sure weve seen a cloud since we got here. The drips are get heavier, and then whoosh, an entire bucketload drenches us both. Hmmm. previously that it would be nice to meet the neighbours and heres our chance. The lady in the second floor apartment is apologising profusely,
and repeating solo agua, which I think means its only water. Thats nice to know; bleach could have got a bit ugly. It seems she was cleaning her balcony and just happened to be sweeping all the water off at the precise moment we were trying to open the front door. We both get the giggles.
We dine in the majestic Plaza of the City Hall. Theres a large fountain in the middle and its lit up with constantly changing coloured lights. Theres an open structure next to it with laser lights projecting from the ceiling that makes us feel like were on the set of a Star Wars movie. Its all very spectacular.
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