Author: Marcus

I've started this blog to share my experiences while travelling during my sabbatical. Focus on travel, food, drink, and history.

Categories
Colombia

Trip to Doradal: Santorini and Escobar’s Hacienda Napoles

Marcus

A weekend exploring the Santorini inspired neighbourhood in Doradal, Antioquia, and the nearby Hacienda Napoles, a theme park cum zoo and formerly Pablo Escobar’s infamous finca.

The journey to Doradal

The North Terminal bus station in Medellin overwhelms. The concourse throbs with animation. Ticket booths stretch on endlessly, each run by different companies. 42 I count. Transoriente is the one we need, I eventually work out.

“A ticket to Doradal please?”

We’re told we can either run to the autopista (main road) to catch the departing bus. Or wait two hours. We take the leisurely approach. The station is labyrinthine like, eventually we find a crook on the third level to nurse a coffee.

The bus journey drags on. The winding mountainous terrain means only one lane on each side and before long we’re stuck behind a truck ferrying hay. We crawl from the cooler andean climes to stickier and hotter weather. The passing valleys and jungle like hills dense with forked trees soften the delay.

Doradal and Santorini

Dropped onto a dusty urban road, Doradal’s main thoroughfare. The heat contrasts with balmy Medellin. Nothing grecian. In fact, it’s typically Colombian. Topless locals buzz around their motorbikes. An almost empty restaurant sits across the road where the wafts from the basted rotisserie chickens mixes with petrol smells from the nearby garage. Trucks rumble by.

Turns out the Greek inspired village – Santorini – is a 5 minute climb up the hill. It’s a world away. 

All of a sudden you’re immersed in cubic whites, transported across the Atlantic to the Aegean Sea. Potted geraniums adorn the cottages and bougainvillaea drapes across doorways. Marine blue shutters contrast against the whitewashed walls.

The open plaza is the heart of Santorini and boasts a greek orthodox style church.  The maverick architect true to his inspiration. The warm climate adds to the mystique. Unfortunately there’s no beach nearby to cool you down. A Colombian flag flutters from the blue domed tower overlooking the plaza, incongruous to its surroundings.

Tourists – almost entirely Colombian – mill around determined to try to capture this novelty, taking turns to pose for photos. The classic collective action problem arises, the more photographers, the worse and less original the shot.

The eating options are paltry and unfortunately Greek cuisine is not part of the deal. No gyros or moussaka to be found. Dining in the terraza of Hotel Aldea at least allows you to soak up the atmosphere. I’m fleetingly brought back to my teenage family holiday to Greece. The rest of the evening is spent ambling along the winding cobblestone alleys.

Built in the beginning of the 1980s, the origin of ‘Santorini’ is a mystery. The rumour is that Pablo Escobar, with his ranch nearby, had a hand behind it. The audacity of the endeavour fits with his vanity.

Yes its kitsch and odd, but there’s something warming about people being able to experience a semi authentic greek island village in the heart of Colombia. I remember that most Colombians I’ve met haven’t had the opportunity to leave the country, let alone visit Greece.

Hacienda Napoles

The next day, it’s five minutes by car from Doradal to the Hacienda’s roadside entrance and a further five minutes inland across the rolling hills to the theme park’s official entrance. 

Pablo Escobar’s most lavish finca, he acquired it in 1978 and quickly set to work, ostentatiously constructing, among other extravagances,  seven swimming pools, 27 artificial lakes, a landing strip, a botanical garden, and an exotic zoo. It regularly hosted the cartel’s leaders for business and pleasure. 

After the assassination of Rodrigo Lara Bonilla in 1984, Escobar was forced to flee Colombia and the hacienda began to fall into disrepair. Following a legal struggle with Escobar’s family after his death in 1993, it passed to state ownership, and was later converted into a theme park by a private company. The park in many ways is emblematic of the rise and fall of the drug-leader. 

Hacienda Nápoles is so enormous and sprawling that you wouldn’t get far walking in the blazing heat. The advice to hire a guide to ferry us around the main sights in a golf-buggy is gratefully received. 

As we trundle along the dirt-track, our guide begins to explain its chequered past. For so-called political reasons, he can’t directly use Escobar’s name. Reminiscent of Harry Potter’s, ‘he who must not be named’, my guide uses ‘el dueno antiguo’ (or previous owner) as code. 

First stop is to see the iconic hippos. The only survivors from the original private zoo. They thrived on the myriad of lakes and plentiful grassland, the numbers multiplied so much that they are said to have colonised parts of the nearby Magdalena river and authorities are striving to control the population of the ‘invasive species’. 

The remaining hippos, those still in the park at least, languidly bask in front of us, without care in the world. Afterwards, we see lions, tigers, pumas, elephants and more.

Pablo’s son was obsessed with dinosaurs as a child (a characteristic my childhood self happened to share with him). While my parents indulged me with furry toys and dinosaur encyclopaedias. Escobar built his son life size replicas that still stalk the grounds. We play around the renovated sculptures and explore the Jurassic theme park, built by the new owners, seemingly deciding to run with the original idea.

Next is the plaza de toros or bullring. Another of the outlandish constructions of the Escobar era. We’re told performers from around the world, including Julio Iglesias, would come to entertain Pablo and his guests. It’s since been turned into a tribute to all things related to Africa. A curious hotchpotch of exhibits, including tribal drawings dating from the colonial period and an eccentric list of Africa’s most famous people, at least, the exhibition is somewhat well-intentioned.

The final stop is the museo of memoria where dramatic condemnations of Escobar’s actions are interweaved with some of the few remaining antiques from his finca, such as old cars and the famous portal, on which is mounted a replica of the first plane used to smuggle cocaine. My guide tells me you’ve haven’t come to Hacienda Napoles if you don’t get a picture in front. I oblige.

As I smile in front of the camera, I can’t help but think Escobar would have been proud of what has come of this bizarre and extravagant theme park.

Further information:

  • Bus ticket from North Terminal in Medellin to Doradal (Transoriente): 34,000 CUP; 4 – 5 hours depending on traffic
  • Motor taxi to and from Hacienda Napoles: 15,000 – 20,000 CUP x2
  • Basic entrance ticket “salvaje” to Hacienda Naples: 54,500 CUP
  • Motor taxi guide of Hacienda Napoles: 60,000 CUP

Categories
Cuba

Essential tips for a first-time traveller to Cuba in 2023

Marcus

Cuba, with its unique history and Caribbean backdrop, is fascinating, compelling and inspiring. However, what attracts can also frustrate and madden. It’s often a country that doesn’t work. Exacerbated by the downturn in the economy since the pandemic and Trump’s reversal of the Obama reforms, it is a tough place to backpack. Here are my essential tips for a first-time traveller to Cuba in 2023.

  1. Bring lots of foreign cash
  2. Exchange your foreign currency (with someone you can trust)
  3. Be prepared to go without electricity
  4. Don’t expect much internet
  5. Purchase a VPN in advance
  6. Wary of the street hustlers
  7. Be flexible in your food choices
  8. Learn how to queue
  9. Be resilient

Bring lots of foreign cash

Very few establishments accept card payments and when they do the exchange rate is worse than the street value (see next tip). ATMs are hard to come by and when functioning are subject to long queues. All those working in the tourist industry – whether drivers or host families – have a strong preference for foreign currency (as opposed to the Cuban peso) and sometimes insist on it. Err on the side of caution and bring more than you anticipate spending. It also helps to conserve cash when you get the opportunity by paying for accommodation and activities online. [US bank cards do not work]

Exchange your foreign currency (with someone you can trust)

The Cuban peso (COP) is pegged at 120 units to the dollar / euro, whereas the street value is about 175 COP to a euro / dollar (at time of writing). By bringing foreign cash, preferably the euro or dollar, and exchanging it informally, you can get significantly more value. Best to exchange with someone who has skin in the game and a reputation to protect. Good examples might be your casa particular host (read about my experience on my first day arriving) or someone who runs an established market stall. Black market rates can be found here.

Be prepared to go without electricity

Almost every day we experienced a blackout, usually in the evening. At its worst it lasted for 16 hours, whereas sometimes it was so brief you barely noticed it. Regardless, you should be prepared. It helps to make hay while the sun shines, such as charging your electronic items, and using the patchy internet to research what you need. Bringing battery packs and torches will make life easier too.

Reflecting on tips for future travellers…

Don’t expect much internet

The internet is patchy and slow. It is also restricted (see next tip). Most plazas in the cities and bigger towns will have public wifi, which you’ll probably notice by the crowds of people huddled around phones. The internet operates differently too. Once connected to a network, you need to login with a username and password, which you’ll get from purchasing internet cards. You can get them in some tourist offices and hotels, however it is far cheaper to buy them from the ubiquitous ETECSA shops, Cuba’s single internet and telecoms provider.    Another tip is to download maps in advance and screenshot useful information, such as restaurant reviews.

Purchase a VPN in advance

In Cuba many websites are banned. All forms of internet banking are inaccessible and accommodation websites, such as AirBbB and booking.com, don’t allow you to complete the transaction. A virtual private network will allow you to overcome this obstacle. Of course, purchasing a VPN is also banned – so doing so in advance of your trip is essential. This is something we only realised midday way into our trip and initially had to rely on friends and family to help us access money and book onward accommodation.

Wary of the street hustlers

The Cuba street hustlers (or jineteros as they’re known locally, which translates as jockey) can be very pushy. Given poverty and the measly wages from state employment, Cubans need to look to the private sector to make money. This has gone hand in hand with a rise and desperation of the jineteros. Generally friendly and often charismatic, they will try to reel you in by making a personal connection, such as asking where you’re from. A polite but firm gracias usually suffices. Common scams to be wary of include suspect restaurant recommendations, and one-day cigar festivals. Jineteros were particularly prominent (and pushy) in Trinidad where they seemed to outnumber the tourists.

Be flexible in your food choices

Cuba is subject to significant shortages and limited in its ingredients. It was very common that our restaurant wouldn’t have our first choice from the menu so we soon learned to be prepared with a back-up and / or ask in advance what they didn’t have.

Despite an improvement in recent years, food can be quite bland. Carrying a surreptitious bottle of tabasco to add flavour as I once witnessed one enterprising Cuban do isn’t a bad idea.

Our souped up Ford in Cienfuegos

Learn how to queue

Unfortunately queues are a quintessential part of Cuban life and take up a significant chunk of the average Cuban’s day. Unsurprisingly society has adapted to make them as efficient as possible. At some stage you’ll need to join one too, and it feels like a right of passage. The first thing to do is ask ‘Quien es el ultimo?’ (who is last in line?) As long as you know who is ahead of you (who will in turn know who is ahead of them), you can be rest assured that order will be followed.

The unspoilt beach in Varadero

Be resilient

The most important piece of advice. Often things go wrong or not to plan. Your bus doesn’t turn up, the museum is closed, your guidebook restaurant recommendation turns out to be long closed. It’s important to be resilient, come up with an alternative and move on. Appreciate the unique beauty and charm of the country. You’ll face lows but the highs will be all the more satisfying.

Categories
Colombia

The murky background behind one of Medellin’s Christmas traditions, the Alborada

la alborada mecellin

Marcus

I’ve started this blog to share my experiences while travelling during my sabbatical. Focus on travel, food, drink, and history.

It started with a bang. Soon the valley and hills were alight. Colourful fireworks danced and weaved around the sky, shooting up from around the valley. Families and friends gathered on balconies to watch the show. Thunderous noises bellowed from all directions. A constant racket. Medellin was on fire, figuratively.

I had been warned in advance that the 30th would be different and it certainly was memorable.

Each year on the ultimate night of November, all the comunas of Medellin light up with fireworks to ring in December and the Christmas season, in a tradition known as La Alborada. It’s a custom that’s since spread to other Colombian cities.

Little did I know that its origins lie in the murky past of narco traffickers and paramilitaries. Medellin is a city in which history can feel like yesterday. A city that is modern and vibrant but with a foot dragging in the past.

Aqui la navidad no llega, estalla

Here Christmas doesn’t arrive, it explodes

MeDEllin SAYING

The origin story of the Alborada

At midnight on the 30th of November 2003 Medellin woke up in a panic. Initially the citizens didn’t know whether the flashes were fireworks or bullets. Had the city returned to violence? The authorities didn’t know what was going on either.

Ostensibly it was supposed to be a celebration of the laying down of arms by the paramilitaries – a show prepared and executed by the paramilitaries themselves. A spectacle to mark the end of abnormal times – when the state had to turn to private armies in order to do their dirty work. But in reality it was a dramatic display of power from Don Berna, the paramilitary leader, to show who really called the shots in the city.

Don Berna’s paramilitaries

At the turn of the 21st century, a paramilitary organisation named the Block Cacique Nutibara led by Don Berna was established to try to take back control of the north eastern communes in the city which were ridden by guerillas and narco traffickers. 

In sweeping and bloody military operations, paramilitary groups – that is groups operating outside of the law – worked hand in hand with the military to exterminate the criminal enterprises that controlled vast swathes in the city. One such operation named Orion, which led to the pacification of Comuna 13, resulted in 88 deaths, 12 cases of torture and the disappearance of 92 people.

A year later, the paramilitary group, which maintained control of about 10 comunas, agreed to give up their arms as a means to transition to peacetime. Ostensibly to celebrate and mark the occasion, their leader, Don Berna, ordered the purchase of all the fireworks possible in the city. Five days later they met to light their loot in a number of the city’s comunas.

In fact the fireworks were a statement of the territories in which Don Berna would maintain his power and control. His organisation – the Nutibara – would function as a sweeping criminal enterprise focused on narco-trafficking. His control of the city was so complete that during his time the murder rate actually decreased.

The Don, probably the most renowned Medellin crime leader since Pablo Escobar, was later captured for violating the terms of his agreement and in 2008 he was extradited to the United States where he is serving a 31 year sentence for drug trafficking.

The celebration today

Although with Berna locked up thousands of miles away from the city, the tradition in Medellin has continued to grow in popularity, despite the authorities efforts to discourage it, and has become a firm fixture in the city’s Christmas calendar, as well as in other parts of Colombia.

billboard warns against the alborada
A billboard tries to discourage participation in La Alborada: “what do you celebrate if others die?: fireworks can kill them!”

Many people I talked to resented the night – not due to its origin – in fact its background seemed to be little known – but due to the tremendous noise and its traumatic effect on animals, including cats and dogs, and birds that fall from the sky disorientated by the racket. Animal rights groups campaign every year against it.

The final words are left to Juan Mosquera Restrepo, journalist, scriptwriter and director, who eloquently lamented the celebration’s significance:

A sadness called Medellín has just attacked me. It was like this: detonations in the distance and I wonder, out loud, “is that gunpowder or a bullet?” Then I say to myself, in a low voice: “Damn it, that phrase is from here.” There are phrases that hurt to have learned in your city

Some of the information for this blog was sourced from an infobae article published in 2018.

Categories
Barcelona Spain

“Tourists go home”, Barcelona’s problem with tourism

"Tourists, go home, you are not welcome", anti-tourist graffiti Gracia, Barcelona
"Tourists, go home, you are not welcome", anti-tourist graffiti in Gracia, Barcelona

Marcus

Tourists go home

Seeing the first graffiti was a novelty. A rush of intrigue and levity. A brief distraction to the mundane. A gentle act of dissent. “Tourists go home”, the blue scrawl boldly proclaimed.

Very soon we saw more. More and more. Every block, corner and wall seemed to be inscribed with the message. A coordinated and planned act of defiance.

A sinking sense of unease built. “What the f*ck are we doing here”, I thought.

"Tourists, go home, you are not welcome", anti-tourist graffiti Gracia, Barcelona
“Tourists, go home, you are not welcome”, anti-tourist graffiti in Gracia, Barcelona

This was my first experience of Gracia, the traditionally working class area in Barcelona. At the forefront of the debate: has tourism gone too far?

Barcelona as a tourist destination

Barcelona hasn’t always been such an emblematic tourist destination. The 1992 Olympic triggered urban regeneration and put the city in the consciousness of travellers. Given Barcelona’s endowment of sun, history and a rich catalan culture as well as a concerted push from the local government, the city was ready to take off.

Prior to the pandemic, there were approximately 32 million annual visitors to the city, in 1992 the figure was 1.7 million. The permanent population within the city limits is 1.6 million, giving a ratio of about 19 visitors to permanent residents.

This contrasts with London that has a population of about 9 million and welcomed 22 million international visitors in 2019.

It’s not simply the bare numbers. Half of the 32 million are day-trippers, of which a large chunk are cruise passengers. As a result many of the tourists congregate in the most popular areas, such as Las Ramblas, Park Guell and La Sagrada, determined to see the iconic sights in their short-time. This leads to extreme congestion in certain spots and means that the vast sums spent by tourists are concentrated in a limited number of tourist cafes and gift-shops, with little left over for other parts of the city.

Quoted in the Guardian, Marti Cuso, a resident in the Gothic Quarter, the city’s busiest tourist area bemoaned, 

“My barrio is so saturated with tourists it’s impossible to meet someone in the street or for children to play or even to get a good night’s sleep,”

tourism kills the city, Gracia Barcelona
“Tourism kills the city”, street art in Gracia near Park Guell

A consultation carried out in 2015 by the local government pointed to various issues with overtourism, including anti-social behaviour, overcrowding and a loss of identity.

Tourism brings enormous revenue to the city and accounts for a significant part of the economy, but as with many economic issues society grapples with today, it’s not just the size of the pie – it’s how you share it. The consultation highlighted ‘poor redistribution of the wealth generated and poor quality jobs”.

Tourists go home, carteristas welcome - gracia barcelona
“Tourists go home, carteristas welcome” – graffiti in Gracia Barcelona. Carteristas translates as ‘pickpockets’

A salutory encounter in Valencia

The ethics of tourism and its effects on local communities have particularly interested me since first moving to Valencia. An ever growing ex-pat community, drawn mainly from Northern Europe, have decamped to the mediterranean city, taking advantage of looser working remote rules since the pandemic and the city’s attractive climate, cost of living and cultural offerings.

One sunny saturday afternoon I was in St. Patrick’s, Valencia’s best Irish pub, and had brought along a friend (and also my Spanish teacher), Pedro, who, like me, had recently moved to the city – but instead of coming from London, he had moved from Cadiz in Andalucia. Whereas I was finding the cost of living cheap, to Pedro, Valencia was more expensive. [Before you judge me too quickly, I found myself in a Irish pub as I had wanted to watch an Irish rugby match and Pedro wanted to experience a raucous Irish pub atmosphere.]

Very soon we started talking with another Irishman, Paul, 30, from the Northside of Dublin. Paul had decided to move to Valencia as even with a good job the cost of living in Dublin was not sustainable. Why, he thought, should I put up with a non-existent life where nearly all his earnings were swallowed up by rent, when I could move with my Irish salary and live comfortably in a sunny and culturally rich city. No one disagreed.

Later that evening Pedro revealed to me that he was thinking of moving back home to live with his parents in Andalucia. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t make his teacher wage stack up against the rising cost of living. A box room without daylight was all he could afford at that point.

One month later, Pedro was back in Cadiz and Paul was still enjoying life in Valencia. The linked nature of Europe’s housing markets had become visibily apparent, bonded by the freedom of remote working. Dublin’s rental crisis (as well as other cities’) could spill into Valencia.

Back to Barcelona

Back to Barcelona, and as we ventured further into Gracia, there was no let-up in the grafiti. However, something new caught my eye: tourists gleefully posing by the inscriptions thumbs up and ironic smiles, excited by the potential for an edgy insta shot. In a kafkaesque turn, instead of putting people off, the grafiti had itself become an attraction.

It partly demonstrates the gordian knot with which tourist dependent locations grapple: how to extricate yourself from an addictive dependency on the supposedly easy cash of foreign tourists? Like an oil rich country that grows fat on its natural resources, leaving other industries lying fallow, an alternative path becomes less and less attractive. For many governments, the natural equilibrium is then to double down on the tourist industry instead of trying to resurrect or develop other parts of the economy. The alternative path involves too much short-term pain, making it politically unviable.

When it comes down to it, the grafiti is not so much aimed at the tourists but really the local authorities that encourage tourism, whether its through loose regulation or financial incentives, and the businesses that exploit these conditions.

The tragedy is that with a greater focus on tourism, the place loses its identity and the reasons that people came in the first place start to fade away. It simply becomes like everywhere else. In Barcelona, a new word has been coined: parquetematización – the act of becoming a theme park. Barcelona is reduced to an imitation of itself.

What can you do?

The website “Responsible Travel” gives some tips on how to visit Barcelona more sustainably, such as going outside of the summer months, going midweek, staying for longer than a day and, when doing so, booking registered accommodation. [Alas our weekend stay in the middle of August broke their first two rules…]. The excellent resource for responsible travel provides advice not just for Barcelona but across the world.

An alternative option of course is to eschew Barcelona in favour of another Spanish city: Valencia is an excellent option (notwithstanding the story relayed above) with its unique culture, mediterranean seaside location, rich cuisine and history – but significantly cheaper and without the hordes of tourists. My blog contains numerous guides to Valencia, including tips on alternative things to see and to do, and how best to settle in if moving there..

Categories
Spain

Long weekend in Bilbao

guggenheim museum bilbao in spain
Photo by David Vives on Pexels.com

Marcus

A post industrial ‘hole’ reborn as a cultural hub with world-famous art and architecture. Surrounded by beautiful countryside, the historic city centre boasts a buzzing and delectable gourmet food scene. The city is Basque but ever so European. In early September I enjoyed a long weekend in Bilbao with my Dad.

Day 1: a Basque welcome and pintxos in the old town

The airport bus (€3) whizzes you to the centre, past the shining Guggenheim, into the new town, El Ensanche. From our hotel (Barcelo Bilbao), which sits across the river Nervion, it’s a short stroll to the old town, Casco Viejo.

Before we get far we are enticed by La Tortilla, an unassuming bar beside the baroque ayuntamiento (city hall). Busy with smiling locals, we can’t resist a caña (the standard beer serving in Spain – usually less than a half a pint). Unlike the other Basques, we are served in larger glasses, the attentive barman assuming our northern European tastes correctly.

Upon hearing we’re Irish, a proud Basque woman inserts herself and insists on buying us another round, remarking on our shared history and nationhood. Unable to properly express our gratitude (‘gracias’ doesn’t cut it here..), she teaches us the Basque (or Euskera) for thank you:

Eskerrik asko

Later the old town, with its evocative narrow streets, buzzes with activity. Revellers congregate in and out of the multitude of bars, beer in one hand and a pintxo in the other. Bilbao is somewhere to stand, enjoying good company, excellent food and refreshing beer. 

We pop from bar to bar, getting a flavour of each place. We try Baster (rammed), Gure Toki (innovative and creative) and Bar Charli (excellent vegetarian options). All are excellent.

The heart of the pintxo scene is on Plaza Nuevo –  an attractive arcaded neoclassical square – breaking that rule that the more scenic the location the worse the food. 

Day 2: Guggenheim & funicular to Artxanda

After breakfast in Cafe Kovac, we stroll down the waterfront to the Guggenheim. Our cultural appetites are whetted by the myriad of sculptures along the way. Indeed, the city’s streets boast 150 different sculptures of varying styles. 

The Guggenheim shimmers in the sunlight. The wavy titanium structure designed by Frank Gehry was inaugurated in 1997 and is said to have sparked the city’s regeneration and emergence as a global centre for art. 

Maman spider Louise Bourgeois Guggenheim
Maman sculpted by Louise Bourgeois

On the first level, Richard Serra’s’ immersive steel structures have a dizzying effect. Upstairs, Norman Foster’s curated auto show makes even the least enthusiastic fall in love with the car. The exhibition artfully tells the story as to how the automobile has shaped our landscape and has exerted such an influence on the 20th century. My dad has a story that he can relate to each car on show.

Eschewing some of the more touristy options, lunch is across the road at Mazerreo, a local fish restaurant that faces the waterfront,  where we avail of their excellent and economical menu del dia.  Dishes include sardines, grilled sea bass and the highlight – mamitaka de pulpo, a traditional fish stew, first popularised on the fishing boats that scoured the Bay of Biscay – washed down with chilled Rioja.

In the afternoon, we cross Calatrava’s inviting curved footbridge to reach the funicular which ferries us up to the summit of Artxanda. Bilbao is steeply enclosed by mountains meaning that within moments of setting off, we’re enveloped in thick foliage and countryside. From the top, the views of the estuary and surrounding mountains are spectacular and give a sense of the city’s maritime past. Before descending, we polish off a basque cake in Restaurante Txakoli, a traditional basque building first built at the end of the 19th century as a refuge for mountaineers and shepherds.

Dinner is at Los Fueros in the old town near Plaza Nueva. Traditional dishes are served in a rustic and stylish setting with green mosaic tiles. Their pipparas – tempura style green peppers – are morish, and superbly complemented by our waiter’s recommended white wine – a local txakoli named Señorío de Otxaran. One to note down.

Day 3: Mercado Ribera & the museum quarter

We explore the evocative old town further, popping into the 14th century gothic cathedral, Bilbao’s oldest building, and later the riverside Mercado Ribera, which humms with activity. Aglow with natural light and art deco stained glass windows, upstairs is dedicated to fresh produce while downstairs is aflush with stylish pincho bars.

Ambling across the new town, designed and built in the latter half of the 19th century, we take in the the modernist architecture, most impressive is Txabarri’s Palace on the central Moyua square – built in 1894 to resemble the renaissance palaces found in Brugge and Antwerp. Today it houses Spain’s central government. A Spanish flag flutters above the door, the first one I’ve seen since arriving in the autonomous region.

Before continuing the tourist trail, we fuel up in Continental Cafe, a classy establishment just outside of the Park Dona Casilda, around which is the museum quarter. The city is quiet on this Saturday afternoon; many have sought to escape the unseasonal heat. The two locals beside me, more used to drizzly rain, lament the hot weather,

‘Over 30 degrees is simply not normal for this time of year’, they tell me.

The elegant victorian park was established in 1907 as an English style garden and is the heart of the museum quarter. First up, the Itsasmuseum, set amid the former shipyard, tells the story of Bilbao through its maritime past – from its establishment as a vital trading post for Castile to its role as a global shipbuilding hub. It doesnt disappoint.

Across the park, the Museo de Bellas Artes is top class. Once considered a location for Picasso’s Guernica, the gallery hosts a comprehensive and excellently curated collection of Basque, Spanish and European art. Most interesting is the western wing in which each room juxtaposes a Basque artist with a an artist of global renown. For example, San Sebastian’s Chillida face to face with the German renaissance’s Durer.

To end the night, we scoff more pintxos in the classy Casa Victor Montes on Plaza Nuevo. Perched on the marble top bar, with uniformed waiters ferrying morish bites to and fro, glinting glass hanging above us and surrounded by an impressive wine and whiskey collection, it’s a culinary and sensory delight.

Day 4: day-trip to San Sebastian

On Sundays the Plaza del Arenal across from the opulent baroque opera house, Teatro Arriaga, hosts a flower market and flea market. We build up an appetite as we potter around, later satiated by tostados with shredded tomato and serrano ham – making my Dad jealous as to how I like to start my day since moving to Spain.

Our plan is to spend the afternoon in San Sebastian, the resort town about 100km east towards France. We take the metro, designed by Norman Foster – a sleek marriage of function and form, to the bus station, which too is clean and aesthetically pleasing. The corrugated red edifice, which is modern, spacious and clean, contrasts with so many Spanish bus stations, most of which are grim. In general the investment in public transport in Bilbao, which is only a mid-sized city, puts other bigger cities – (e.g. Dublin) – to shame.

Unfortunately a Sunday trip to San Sebastian isn’t an original idea – the hourly buses are very popular, meaning we have to wait until later in the afternoon to secure seats. Booking in advance is advised.

San Sebastian is a delight. A perfect crescent bay backed by elegant tall sandstone buildings. It evokes the ‘golden age’ of tourism when overseas trips were the preserve of the aristocratic. Hotel Londres, a former palace that gleams on the promenade, encapsulates this period.

The town feels grander than Bilbao, not least due to the spectacular ornate golden lions that greet you as you cross the river to the old town. As we amble towards the beach, the streets are thronging – it’s an exuberant party atmosphere. Progressive political slogans hang across the buildings.

San Sebastian has the highest ratio of Michelin stars to population in Europe and our chosen restaurant – Xarma – is top quality. Intimate decor: hanging skiffs and light bulbs. We share an exquisite gazpacho and I devour a smoky steak accompanied by a roasted pepper. Our friendly waitress remarks that competition has driven up standards.  

Back in Bilboa, it’s the evocative and moorish influenced Cafe Urina, where we snack on succulent kebabs, and take advantage of the good beer selection. We finish our final night at Gin Fizz where the very friendly mixologist masterly prepares cocktails based on customer requests. The spirit collection is unrivalled.

Day 5: breakfast before parting ways

Before we go our separate ways, we breakfast in Asuaberri Obrador, a quality bakery close to where the airport bus departs. As I board my plane, Dad sends me a message from the craft-beer emporium, Basquery. A father and son weekend well spent.  

Categories
Spain

Overnight trip to magical Cuenca

Cuenca vista hanging houses

Marcus

A Unesco world heritage sight and one of Spain’s most arresting cities. Alluring and spell-binding, it’s most famous for its casa colgadas, buildings that literally hang from the cliff, and its modern art scene first established in the 1960s. Relatively un-touristy given its sheer beauty, an overnight trip to magical Cuenca is highly recommended.

Slow train to Cuenca from Valencia

I take the slow train from Valencia Nord (c.4hr & €16.50), the majestic modernist train station. The journey is picturesque. Once out of the industrial outskirts, you’re enveloped in the rich and fertile orchards of the province: the garden of Valencia.  At a gentle pace, the train languidly rises until vast valleys open up.

Passing through mountainous terrain, we trundle through tunnel after tunnel, with magnificent rock faces and pines clinging to the slopes. Eventually we reach the Meseta, Spain’s central plateau, where sunflowers fields and almond groves are interspersed with rolling forested hills. At last Cuenca, on top of a natural pyramid, appears as if a mirage. Slow travel at its best.

The inimitable medieval old town

Making a quick getaway from the station in the relatively bland new town (a common occurrence in Spain), it’s a hike up to the old centre. Your exertions are rewarded with a complete medieval city: winding narrow cobbled streets, great town houses painted in bright pastels, tranquil plazas, and miradors that offer breathtaking views of the rugged countryside. 

The plaza mayor is the heart of old Cuenca. It’s the perfect place to sip an aperitif, watching the town come to life as locals emerge from siesta. From the terrace of Mesón, where uniformed waiters bustle, I admire the baroque town hall set above three arches, the colourful facades of the irregularly shaped tall houses, and the gothic cathedral that shines in the evening light. 

The gothic cathedral in the Plaza Mayor

The cathedral was built on the site of the former mosque when the city was recaptured by Alfonso VIII in 1177, whose statue stands proudly nearby (see my post on Spain’s five most influential wars, including the reconquista). The church is notable for being one of the first Spanish examples of gothic architecture when romanesque styles dominated. Upon its return to Christianity, Cuenca was designated as a royal town and thrived during the middle ages on the back of textile manufacturing.

I stay in the Hotel Leonor de Aquitania further up the hill beyond the plaza mayor, a renovated 18th century house, which offered a spacious and well-priced room. Dinner is at the Asador Maria Morena where they serve typical regional dishes (succulent lamb chops and the very popular queso frito with green pepper sauce), which is located on the top of the old town and offers panoramic views of the surrounding hills and valleys.

The hanging houses

The morning is the best time to appreciate the famous casa colgadas (hanging houses) when there are few tourists and the houses are lit by the rising sun. The first examples of these feats of architecture were built in the 15th century, with only three surviving today. The remaining houses jut out as if a natural extension of the cliff; the wooden balconies daringly thrust outward, as if seemingly suspended in the air. 

Anton van den Wyndaerde 1565 Cuenca
Anton van den Wyndaerde’s 1565 painting in Cuenca in which you can make out the hanging houses

The two best spots to view them are beyond the castle on the top of the hill and from the narrow (and hair-raising) footbridge, Puente San Pedro Bridge, that leads to the convent of the same name built in the 16th century for Dominicans.

To reach the hilltop view you pass the muscular archive building that dates from the 16th century, formerly the headquarters for the inquisition, and go through the arch of the castle ruins, originally a Moorish fortress.

The town is built above two intersecting gorges – the Huecar and the Jucar -surrounded by gorgeous countryside. The pine covered hills to either side are buttressed by solemn rounded cliffs, coloured ochre to grey, that remind me of the Easter Island monuments. Cuenca is a perfect base for hiking, with many different routes advertised in the town.

With spectacular scenery and evocative medieval architecture, it’s not hard to appreciate why artists were attracted here in the 1950s and 1960s, which gave rise to the proliferation of top quality galleries.

The art museums

The best way to spend an afternoon in Cuenca is to aimlessly wander, stumbling upon the superb art museums and encountering the many different view points. .

The most famous hanging house that houses the El Museo de Arte Abstracto

El Museo de Arte Abstracto is first up. Housed in the most iconic of the casa colgadas, it doesn’t disappoint. The brainchild of the artist Fernando Zobel, it’s hard to disagree with its description as the ‘most beautiful little museum in the world’, made by the founder of the Met. The thought provoking art is presented minimally and tastefully curated, including some of Zobel’s unique ink works. The building preserves original features, such as a spectacular coffered ceiling, original stone portal and pillars. There is an air of peace and reflection.

The Fundacion Antoinio Perez is more chaotic but rewarding. Sprawling, eclectic and often eccentric, the rambling gallery can at times be overwhelming, although the quality and variety is excellent. It’s better to concentrate on a handful of rooms rather than attempt to take it all in. Manolo Millare‘s disconcerting black and white works that burst from their canvases and Lucebert’s haunting illustrations were highlights.

Finally the Fundacion Antonio Saura in Casa Zavala, established in 2008, presents work from its namesake, Saura, one of Spain’s most famous post-war painters. All the museos were either free or very inexpensive, c. €2.

Lunch in the new town

Before I get the train back to Valencia, I stop off for a Menu del Dia at Meson Fernandez on Calle San Francisco, which buzzes with locals getting their lunchtime fill. An excellent option to fuel up before leaving magical Cuenca.

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Spain Valencia

Essential tips on how to settle in to Valencia quickly

reflection of cityscape in sea at night
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Marcus

You’ve left your exorbitantly priced flat, waved goodbye to grey skies and rain, and are ready to perfect your Spanish. Or indeed whatever it was that prompted you to upsticks and emigrate to Valencia, that almost perfect Spanish city. Rest assured you’ve chosen well.

Spain’s third city, it’s not so small you get bored nor too big you get swallowed up in cool anonymity. Beaches, parks, culture and almost permanent sunshine: the quality of life is excellent. Here are my essential tips on how to settle in to Valencia quickly (some of which I wish I’d known sooner):

Sign up for the bike sharing scheme

It’s called Valenbisi. An annual subscription costs 35 euro and the first 30 minutes of your ride are free. The stations are commonplace and there’s a good availability of bikes. You can sign up and book each ride online. The bikes may weigh a tonne and don’t go very fast – the mode of transport is something between walking and a standard cycle – but it’s still worth it to take advantage of Valencia’s incredible cycling infrastructure at any time of day or night.

Get a Spanish sim card

A pre-paid sim card (prepago in spanish) only cost me 10 euro for the month and the registration took less than 5 minutes. My deal entitled me to 50gb of data, 500 minutes (EU and UK included), and unlimited messages, with no further commitment required. Sign up only required showing my passport. My provider (no commission…) Vodafone has excellent coverage across the city. Sims are easily found in any 2nd hand / repair phone shop, which are very common in La Roqueta, near Valencia Nord.

Familiarise yourself with Spanish opening hours

Most restaurants are closed between roughly 4pm and 8pm, the dreaded dead-hours. The majority of supermarkets are closed on Sundays.  To this day I sometimes still get caught out, so accustomed to the the constant convenience of London where I spent the previous 8 years. It’s smart to check online before venturing to your chosen restaurant / shop and to build up a repertoire of places with more flexible hours. One example is the famous Horno de Los Borrachos (the Drunks’ Oven), located by the Central Mercat that serves greasy food 24/7.

Participate in the events run by Valencia Language Exchange

Valencia Language Exchange runs intercambios (language exchanges) 5 nights a week in different venues across the city, including a free salsa class on Wednesdays and free entry to Umbracle on Saturdays. As well as brushing up on your Spanish, it’s a great opportunity to meet other emigrants and locals – whether your goal is to make friends or get more insider tips. The company also organises weekend excursions and longer trips that are excellent for seeing wider region and beyond. Cafe Berlin in Rusafa also hosts popular language exchanges on Monday and Wednesday evenings.

Sign up to Idealista to find accommodation

Your first days will most likely be in an AirBnB. Let them be the only ones. Better to sign up to Idealista, Spain’s most popular property market platform, to find your longer term home. With far more choice and more affordable pricing, your bank balance will thank you. It’s also better that new demand funnels into the longer term letting market as opposed to the short-term airbnb market. This will reduce the incentive for landlords to switch their property to a short-term let (whether legally or not), which reduces supply and forces up rent for locals. 

Torres de Quart
The Torres de Quart, the old western entrance to the city. You can still see the cannon holes from the Napoleanic wars

Get a SUMA 10 card to get the most out of the public transport system

The city is very well connected, with the metro, tram and an extensive bus network. The system is well integrated: a fare is valid for 90 minutes, allowing you to switch onto to different lines or modes. The best idea is to get a SUMA 10, which is a 10 journey pass. It can be loaded up to 30 journeys at a time and used by up to 15 people.

Lines 3 and 5 take you to and from the airport, while all the tram lines take you to the beach. Be aware of night-time hours: much of the transport stops after 11pm (hence it’s handy to have signed up to Valenbisi as a fallback).

Use the Santander work / cafe for remote working

If looking for a remote working space, the Santander work cafes are a good bet, especially while getting yourself settled. Entry is free, there is generally space, the internet is good and there’s on site coffee shop (with discounts for Santander bank account holders). The hours are 9am to 7pm. There are three in Valencia, including one right beside the Ayuntamiento. The cafes are also found in the other main cities in Spain.

Be aware of bad paella

No harm in including some foodie advice. Valencia may be the home of paella but the quality still varies. Only eat at somewhere that serves it at lunch – paella for dinner is only for tourists. The longer the wait the better too – it means the paella is freshly prepared. It’s also a good sign if the minimum portion size is for two people, again showing that they’re not serving from pre-prepared batches.

My favourite place by the beach is La Pepica, Hemingway’s former haunt. The best paella in the region is generally found in El Palmar by Albufera. Speaking of tourist tips, see my post on the best alternative things to see and do in Valencia.

Categories
Spain Valencia

La Tomatina: a guide to Spain’s messiest festival

Tomatina
La Tomatina

Marcus

A kaleidoscope of red. A cacophony of shouts, screams and thrills. The dense embrace of the crowd. Squelch, squelch, squelch amid a river of puree. Flying red objects. A pelt to the head. It’s La Tomatina.

Sensory overload. Clean (and smug) locals cheer from their balconies, their buildings sensibly covered in protective mesh. A brief respite as we cling to the sides of the narrow street while a truck carrying tomatoes squeezes by. A fresh batch is unceremoniously dumped. The truck moves on and the war (or la guerra) recommences.

A fleeting snapshot on the streets of Buñol on the last Wednesday of August during the Tomatina Festival, including my top tips (scroll to the end).

The La Tomatina festival

Celebrated annually, Tomatina is a glorified tomato fight that takes place in Buñol, a small and otherwise unremarkable town in Valencia province. Locals, Spaniards and people from around the world congregate to enjoy the absurdity. This year – 2022 – 14,000 people participated along with more than 130 tonnes of tomatoes.

One of the most famous Spanish fiestas, it ranks alongside Las Fallas in Valencia, San Fermin in Pamplona, San Juan in Menorca and Semana Santa in Seville.

My arrival to Buñol

My former Spanish language school, Taronja, which does excursions very well, organised a day-trip to the festival from Valencia. Dark and early, we bussed it to Buñol. Bleary eyed, we emerged in the outskirts of the town where disused factories pockmarked the landscape.

The school threw a pre-party brunch to prepare us for the ‘war’. A traditional Valencian almuerzo to line the stomach – rich tomato sauce with sausages served in a bocadillo – washed down with beers, tinto de verano and shots of cazalla, a Valencian anise liquor. The idea of a tomato war was starting to appeal.

Soon it’s time to march down to the streets. Progress is halted by chaotic queues to redeem our digital passes for the necessary wristbands. After a two year hiatus, the organisers seemed to be out of practice. Eventually through the gates, there is a palpable sense of excitement. A shared sense of participating in something unique. We were ready to go.

It kicks off at 10am, when a Spanish jamon (see my post on choosing ham in Spain), is speared on top of a greased pole in the town square. The goal is to be first to climb up and retrieve it. Buoyed on my screams and shouts from the crowd, while being drenched by water, locals scramble up the pole. When the ham is finally dislodged (usually at about 11), it signals the start of the madness – and very soon the tomato trucks roll in.

The history of La Tomatina

No one really knows the exact origin of the festival. The received wisdom is that it started in late August 1945 when, during a parade, some youths fell into an argument. Taking advantage of a nearby fruit and veg market stall, they started throwing fruit and vegetables at each other. Enjoying it so much, the next year more young people engaged in a pre-planned quarrel, this time bringing their own tomatoes. Year and year more people took part, establishing a tradition. 

Others have claimed that the festival stemmed from the town’s dislike of Franco. (See my post on Spain’s five most influential wars, including the Spanish Civil War in which Franco came to power).

“This village was against Franco,” said Miguel Sierra Galaraza, an amateur historian from Bunol, to the Wall Street Journal in 1995. “Throwing tomatoes at the priest and mayor was a way to protest against authority.”

In the early 1950s, the festival was banned by Franco due to the absence of any religious link. The tomato fights continued, however, leading to arrests. Following a widely supported protest from the town involving a coffin containing tomatoes, Franco relented and the festival was finally made official in 1957. Since then the fiesta has grown and grown in popularity.

In 2013 the town eventually introduced an entry fee to control the ever-growing demand after attendance grew to what was estimated at over 50,000. The festival was cancelled in 2020 and 2021 due to the pandemic.

The tomato war (la guerra)

The tomato fight commences. Hesitant at first, it soon becomes second nature throwing tomatoes at complete strangers. Alliances are forged, and quickly betrayed. It’s loud, packed and exuberant. The body numbs to the constant pelts.

As more and more tomatoes arrive, we and the streets get redder and redder. Anarchic.

The battle lasts about an hour and by then it’s more than enough.

La Tomatina
Tomatoes are thrown from the truck

Completely soaked and splattered we amble down to the river to wash off, where some kind residents hose us down. Once somewhat clean (a day later I discovered remnants of tomato in my ear…), we make our way to the square where under a canopy, there are bars, dj and a dancefloor. Reggaeton is blaring. It all feels bizarre yet intoxicating.  

Meanwhile the authorities hose down the streets, sweeping away the tomato mush. Buñol is known for having some of the cleanest and sparkling streets in Spain. The acid of the tomatoes counteracts against the grime.

By the late afternoon, it’s time to return to Valencia. On the bus, I reflect on the festival. Fun and unique, there was something wonderful about people from around the world gathering in one spot to madly throw tomatoes at one another. A shared experience that captures the eccentricity and magic of Spain.

Would I recommend it? Absolutely. Would I do it again? Probably not.

My tips for La Tomatina

  1. Bring and wear goggles to avoid blackeyes and the sting of the tomato acid.
  2. Don’t wear clothes you value. An old t-shirt and swimming attire is perfect. Permanent staining is inevitable.
  3. Be so careful for thieves. I witnessed a number of people complaining of thefts. Don’t leave your valuables out of sight (and better still avoid bringing them).
  4. Bring cash: 20 to 30 euro. Keep some cash in your back pocket for getting drink & food before and after the war. The majority of sellers didn’t accept card.
  5. Be thrifty in what packages you sign up for. Many offer paella and drinks for a hefty extra cost, which you’ll find cheaply in the town. The most important thing to book is your ticket and transport to and from the town.
  6. Get the wristband in advance, ideally before arriving in Bunol. I spent nearly an hour queuing to get mine in the morning.
  7. Squeeze the tomatoes before throwing them. This will lesson the sting of the hit.
  8. Closed shoes are crucial. Flip-flops and sandals will get stuck in the messy tomato puree.

Next year’s festival (2023) will take place on Wednesday the 30th of August.

Categories
Spain Valencia

Alternative things to see and do in Valencia

beige and white concrete buildings photography
Photo by Iván Rivero on Pexels.com

Marcus

You’ve done it all. The guidebook has been thoroughly thumbed. The delectable Central Mercat, the grand Lonja, historic El Carmen, Turia Park and Calatrava’s Ciudad de las Artes y Ciencias. You’ve gorged on Paella and imbibed Agua de Valencia. All ticked off. Wondering what else? Don’t worry – you’ve only scratched the surface. Here are some alternative things to see and do in Valencia:

Visit the Julio Gonzalez collection

Julio Gonzalez (1876 – 1942) was one of the leading sculptors of the 20th century. A close friend of Picasso’s, Gonzalez’s estate bequeathed a large chunk of his collection – almost 400 pieces – to the IVAM, Valencia’s modern art museum. Gonzalez’s arresting metal works give a physical three dimensional form to cubist expression and portray the horrors of the Spanish civil war and the rise of fascism. The museum also hosts interesting and varied temporary exhibitions.

julio rodriguez valencia IVAM
One of Julio Rodriguez’s pieces in IVAM

Do a language exchange

A language exchange is an excellent opportunity to meet other travellers, expats and locals as well as brush up on your language skills in a relaxed environment. Cafe Berlin, a trendy bar in Ruzafa, hosts exchanges on Monday and Wednesdays while Valencia Language Exchange organises events almost every day of the week, including a free salsa class on Wednesdays.

Take a trip to Sagunto

Sagunto is a little-known gem of a town only 30 minutes north of Valencia. It boasts a hill-top castle that dates back two millennia, a Roman amphitheatre that is still in use today, a charming medieval centre and a stately gothic palace. The golden beach – Port Sagunto – is only a very short bus ride away too. Get lines C5 or C6 from Valencia Nord. Check out my recent day-trip.

Relax in Patacona beach

Patacona is my favourite beach within the city environs. It’s the best option if you’re looking for more nature and want to get away from the crowds, but don’t have the time to venture out of Valencia. The 31 bus will drop you closeby or alternatively walk up from Playa Malvarosa, passing the Chiringuito Ocio where the promenade ends. With nothing but dunes and reeds to your back, relaxation awaits.

Admire the street art in El Carmen

The bohemian neighbourhood of El Carmen is famous for its striking street art [see my longer post]. Learn all about the history of the neighbourhood and its most famous artists & artwork on an engaging walking tour. Remember to take lots of photos as your favourite piece may not be there tomorrow.

street art el carmen
Street art in El Carmen

Travel back in time in the archaeology museum

In 138 BC the Romans founded Valencia. The museum takes you right back to the beginning. Located a stone’s throw from the Plaza de La Virgen, the museum is uniquely built above the archeological site, which means that exploring the museum feels like you’re going back in time to the heart of the ancient city, complete with the forum, senate, original roads and horreum (or public warehouse). Entrance cost is 2 euro.

Watch the water court, an ancient tradition

The tribunal de las aguas (or water court) meets outside the Door of the Apostles in the Plaza de la Virgen, every Thursday at midday. It maintains a thousand year tradition originally introduced by the Moors and formalised by Jaime I to discuss disputes relating to irrigation. They sit in a circle on wood and leather 17th century chairs, and make their rulings

Have further ideas for alternative things to see and do in Valencia? Leave a comment below.

Categories
Valencia

The arresting street art of El Carmen, Valencia

Marcus

El Carmen, Valencia’s oldest quarter. Traditional yet bohemian.  A medieval labyrinth where ambling tourists coincide with a proud local community. Amid the decaying facades and winding streets, striking and colourful street art bursts out. Getting lost can be part of the fun. Here’s an introduction to the neighbourhood’s engaging street art.

The history of El Carmen’s street art

Today’s street art was born out of a great tragedy. In 1957 the river Turia burst its banks and a voracious flood engulfed Valencia, swallowing up whole neighbourhoods in an event known as the Gran Riada de Valencia. Over 80 people died, with extensive damage to streets and properties.

With its proximity to the river, the historical barrio of El Carmen was gutted. Whole swathes of the neighbourhood became uninhabitable. Buildings were abandoned. Crime and vice filled the vacuum.

Street art in El Carmen, Valencia
Victoria Cano Perez’s river that straddles three walls, full of symbolism. One could read it as a tribute to those that perished in the flood and the resilience of the neighbourhood

In time, artists struggling to establish themselves spotted an opportunity. Cheap rent along with deserted buildings meant an endless supply of canvasses right on their doorway with a captive audience. The authorities turned a blind-eye, knowing the art couldn’t make the neighbourhood any worse. Colour came to deprived El Carmen. Renewal. A place transformed.

Street art in El Carmen, Valencia
Street art by Disneylexya who uses Aztec themes

The best streets and time to appreciate the art

Today some of the best streets to explore are Carrer de Baix and the connecting Carrer de Dalt where the same piece flows from one street to the next; Carrera de na Jordana; Guillem de Castro; Placa del Carme; and Carrer de Balme where the empty lots and facades allow enormous murals.

The ideal time is from 6pm to 7pm when the heat has subsided and the majority of shop fronts are still shuttered, maximising the exhibits on show.

Street art in El Carmen, Valencia
Street art in El Carmen

Take lots of photos. Artwork can be disappear or be defaced over night. The streets are ever changing and dynamic exhibitions. The fleeting nature of the murals means that the art stays current and is often politically engaging.

Street art in El Carmen, Valencia
“New banknotes, now worth less”

Learn more

A street tour run by Valencia Street Tour, which provides the history of the street art in the neighbourhood and the specific artists and their work, is a great way to spend an evening. Each tour is unique as the ephemeral nature of street art means that the streetscape will change daily.

Looking for more things to see and do in Valencia, see my post on alternative activities.