During my week in Valencia I have seen many sights, old and new, toured markets and museums, visited nearby towns and nature parks. On this last day however, with no real plans, I spend the day in my neighborhood El Cabanyal. What does a relaxing Saturday in Valencia look like?  I start with desayuno (breakfast) at the cafe close to my hotel. For the last time I watch the bright oranges, lined up on top of the juicer like a pinball machine, drop into the mechanism to be squeezed one by one. Orange juice is always made in the moment. Alongside my fresh juice, I have a cafe con leche…

During the winter at home I was eating Valencia oranges. Every time I got a new batch, I would proclaim with excitement, “Oranges from Valencia!” No doubt my family was tired of my repetitive announcements.  I can’t help it. This juicy citrus is a delight in the midst of winter. And now, in Spain, I have seen where they originate. Fields and fields of orange trees! On my bus ride from Dénia to Valencia, for 2.5 hours, all I saw were orange groves. The flat expanse of land between the coast and the mountains was covered with rows and rows of orange trees. I did not spot many fruits hanging…

“Quien eres?” an elderly woman asked me in the small village of Sella. “Who am I?” It was a fair question in a tiny village where everyone knows each other. For most of the day I had been asking myself “Where am I?” as I struggled with my GPS so this question was a breeze. I happily told her I was from Canada.  When I arrived in Sella, my legs were shaking from my trek through the rugged Alicante mountains. I had left Finestrat almost 7 hours earlier. I was ecstatic to see Sella, even if the first street I encountered was a massive staircase. I had climbed over a…