Tuesday, 23 March 2010

Valencia 2010 - Elegance, Rain and Fluttering Flaps.

One’s visit to Crusty Towers, in the heart of Valencia, was just as relaxing as one had anticipated.

From the first night, when one went out for a spot of dinner, one felt welcomed and loved by the locals of this beautiful city. Sashaying majestically along Calle Caballeros, with Chu Me close behind, one passed by the crowded bars and cafes near the corner of Calle Baja. There, large windows displayed the gorgeous people inside enjoying their evening’s frivolities.

At one point one was almost moved to tears, as the revellers in two establishments all stopped and turned to look at one – one’s beaded gown shimmering in the street lighting and a mesmerising and multicoloured discharge exploded from one’s baubles; the shafts of bejewelled light ricocheting off the walls of the surrounding buildings.

In an instant, they had whipped up there serviettes, scarves and other garmentry adornments and had raised them high into the air; circling their hands, they twirled them enthusiastically as one passed by. The Barrio del Carmen momentarily rang out with their voices.

“Guapa!! Guapa!!”

One nodded humbly to the masses and waved elegantly, before heading to Cafe San Miguel to gorge oneself on the delicious delicacies served within.

Despite Mother Nature insisting on sprinkling her tears over the city for one’s arrival and the following day, one managed to tolerate the unexpected moistness without any great problem. After that, Señor Sol returned and, although he did not have his hat on, he certainly managed to warm the skies to an agreeable level.

There was one particular night, however, when one got a terrible shock. One had taken a small cat-nap in the lounge, when suddenly one woke up with a severe wind blasting under one’s canopy. Urgent attention was required and one called for Chu Me to spring into action. Within seconds, he had hoisted one’s canopy to its uppermost; nevertheless, for another hour, one had to endure further fierce flutterings of one’s flaps until, with the aid of some velcro and an elastic band, Chu Me restored penthouse tranquillity.

Sadly, one had to leave before the start of the fiesta of Las Fallas – one shall return to that next year, one thinks; it seems an age since one was absorbed in the excitement of it all and one misses it so.

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