Mercat Central again...the movie.

Valencia once more, our fourth visit in as many years. Not quite 'the same old', but we are staying as usual in the Valencia Camper Park near Betera and heading into the city later this morning to have lunch at the Mercat Bar. 

Other than that we have no plans, we have seen many of Valencia's major sites previously, some more than once - the City of Arts and Sciences, the Art Gallery; we have Modernista monument spotted all over the city, relaxed in Valencia's parks and the Botanical Gardens, so we are feeling a bit at a loss of what to do this time. Of course in a city the size of Valencia there will always be something else to see, but perhaps we are finally running out of energy. After all, we have travelled constantly for 130 days since last September, apart from a break at home over Christmas. 

Rather than write a blog post I thought I might take the camcorder with us. Vlogging seems to be the thing these days. I soon discovered I was not destined to be the next YouTube sensation. It is amazing how people can produce 'compelling content' with little more than a smartphone and bags of 'look at me' self confidence. If I try to 'talk to camera' I simply feel ridiculous.

Anyway, we had a great lunch as ever at the market, spent an hour and half just chatting to the people next to us, about travel, Brexit, Trump, how great Spain is.... The young woman from Florida, an Hispanic American, was particularly interesting. She had settled here with her husband and two children and was starting a health food business. She was energetic and positive, loved Spain, was interested in our travels. It was a rare moment of sociability for us.

So, a few photos of Valencia, just to prove we were there -

Artfully arranged strawberries

A rare sight, a deciduous tree south of the Ebro...

Paella pans - from familly sized to fiesta sized...

Valencia's main post office - outside..

and inside...

I did take some video and attempted to edit together using our mini-laptop's astonishingly primitive editing function - Windows Movie Maker. I think it is for the best to leave vlogging to perky millennials, not least because I have got to the stage of the journey of so needing a haircut that my thinning locks on top tend to stick straight up. I call it my 'pot- boiler look' as the shadow of my head assumes a rooster-like profile. So, I opted to appear briefly only as a disembodied voice, not that voices can actually appear...

In future |'ll stick with the written word, the preferred medium for irascible over sixties. I never was much of a conversationalist, and I am not going to suddenly become affable now. Apart from anything else Gill might find it disturbing.

On the question of irascibility, I am feeling particularly grumpy right now. The track from the Metro stop to Valencia Camper is somewhat pot-holed. I went over on my ankle. Really it is a shame that we gave up on the video as the minor incident did have YouTube sensation potential. My demise went through four distinct, balletic phases: Firstly, a slip sideways spraining my right ankle slightly; secondly, staggering forwards in a zig-zagging movement as if trying to dodge the on-coming forward line of the British Lions while clinging manfully onto a small plastic bag containing a tub of roasted almonds and a giant garlic; thirdly, falling over, skidding though a patch of gravel by a ditch, then eventually coming to halt with my nose buried in a small, but spiky shrub; finally leaping to my feet in the best 'that-never-happened-did-anyone-notice' manner I could muster, asserting I was perfectly all right, while bleeding profusely from the side of my abraised right little finger. 

I am ok. It did strike me however, if I had actually sprained my ankle badly, while Gill still has on-going issues with her vision, me not being able to drive would be a serious matter. Maybe be I should cut back on the extreme sports, such as walking down roads, climbing stairs and sitting on park benches without arms and backrests..