Valencia 2010 - Crusty Takes A Pit Stop.

Whenever one has time to spare on a long journey in España, one likes nothing better than taking advantage of the food on offer in the location one is visiting. This was certainly the case when one found oneself at Barcelona Sants train station during the recent trip to Valencia.

As Chu Me tended to the luggage from the metro train, one ascended the narrow escalatorial mechanism into the bustling heart of the station and immediately made one’s way to the ARS over in the corner. It is, by no means, the biggest ARS one has come across, however, its wide entrance makes it ideal for pushing your luggage up and once inside yourself, one can feast on the fresh and tasty morsels packed within.

A gin, a filling tortilla Española sandwich and a few glasses of delicious Pere Ventura Cava later and one was refreshed and ready for the next stage of our journey on the 4 o’clock Euromed.

The usual 1st class service was provided by the two delicious young attendants. One in particular caught one’s eye; 6ft 3, slim and dressed in shirt, waistcoat and teasingly tight trousers. As the train got up to speed, he came into the carriage offering his tray of delights; Cava, orange juice or sherry. The liquids rippling in their chilled glasses as the hunky hombre swayed with the motion of the carriage.

One watched his glinting smile as he served the other passengers and one’s heart began to beat swiftly as he moved toward one’s seat.

“Buenas tardes, Dame Crusty. ¿Toma Cava? ¿Zumo? ¿Jerez?”

“One thinks a glass of Cava, dear” One replied in velvety tones.

“I have nuts too.” He continued in his delightful broken English.

One’s eyes rolled downward (like an off-licences security shutter after a quick yank) and focused briefly - and scandalously - on his downstairs area.

“Indeed you do, dear!” One flirted, leaning towards him. ”One will most definitely have a nibble on those.”

Imagine one’s surprise – and disappointment – when one was handed a rather nondescript, air-tight, foil bag of peanuts and dried fruit.

Anyhoo … the remainder of the journey was extremely pleasant, to say the least, and once the train had settled in Valencia Nord station, the delightful young attendant took one’s hand to help one step from the 1st class carriage onto the tiles surface of the platform. Standing erect, he continued to hold one’s hand before bowing in a gentlemanly fashion and kissed the back of one’s hand, “It was a pleasure, Dame Crusty.”

“And it could have be far more so, had it not been for the shrivelled up raisins.”

Taking a deep breath of the moist Valencian air, a smile emerged on one’s face when one thought a short distance by taxi and one would once again be in the penthousal perfection of Crusty Towers with those two magnificent erections standing proud outside one’s window.