Feliz Año!! My favorite Spanish New Years’ tradition is kind of the equivalent to our countdown and kisses:
On Noche Vieja everyone waits for the 12 chimes of midnight- and at every chime you must eat a grape. Inevitably, by the twelfth chime everyone ends up with a mouth full of grapes. Unfortunately I was unable to partake in this tradition as I had a bit of a stomache flue, but we’ve decided to celebrate the Chinese New Year instead.
Oddly enough, I have seen a lot of pre-canned grapes lately. These weird me out.
Once I recovered, I hopped on a [9 hour] overnight bus to Valencia, where my old friend Michael lives. (Valencia is the third largest city in Spain, over on the eastern coast.)
Michael is an incredibly talented percussionist and plays professionally with the orchestra of the Palau de la Reina (I think). This is the coolest building in Valencia- it looks like a storm trooper helmet.
Anyway, we had a good time catching up on our lives since high school and hanging out with several of the other orchestra members. January 6th is el Dia de los Reyes- a national holiday equivalent to an American Christmas morning. This is the day that the kings/magi’s arrived to the manger scene with presents for baby Jesus- entonces this is the traditional gift-exchanging day in España.
However, the kings have to arrive (in grand style) the night before. Each town in Spain has a huge parade to celebrate their arrival, called the Cabalgata- and the kings themselves throw tons and tons of candy. (Traditionally they arrived on camels, but alas, now they’ve progressed to parade floats and no camels were to be seen at all.) It’s kind of funny to think about their elaborate entrance in comparison with Santa sneaking around and stuffing himself down chimineys. Anyway, it rained the entire time I was in Valencia, and the cabalgata was no exception. This didn’t stop us (or anyone else) from lining the streets in the hopes of catching some goods (or glimpsing a live camel). One neat thing about Valencia is that the kings all arrive on giant ornate ships and the procession starts there in the harbor. It was a very exciting, albeit camel-free, ordeal. (pictured: the first two kings)
Another day I was there I decided to set out on a little bit of an adventure. I caught the train to a small town a little north of Valencia called Sagunto (or just Sagunt in the traditional Valenciano dialect). It is the home of some of the oldest Roman ruins in the country, settled nicely on top of a large hill (or Texas mountain). I arrived in the pouring rain and was off to a cold, rocky start trying to locate a map or any tourist information, but a very nice security guard at the train station was friendly and helpful.
Despite the ridiculous downpour I really enjoyed exploring the town’s old neighborhood as I made my way up the hill to the ancient Roman Teatro. Everything was open to the public but I didn’t run into a single other human being as they all had the common sense to stay indoors where it was warm and dry. This made for excellent photos. I particularly loved wandering through the theatre because although they’ve restored it up to standards for modern day use, much of the original structure remains- including the dark twisty tunnels behind the seating. As I had no audience I took the liberty of enjoying my time onstage (I can’t believe it has been over a year since I have performed!!!!)
Afterwards I made my way further up the oh-so-steep hill to the top, where the remains of the castle and original town are perched. At this point it was raining so hard and the wind was so strong that any attempts of umbrella-usage were impossible so I was completely frozezn and soaked to the bone. I explored the ruins thoroughly but quickly, and then headed back down in search of a warm dry place. I popped into the Sagunto history museum for a few minutes to see some very interesting sculptures and carvings (much to the dismay of the woman working the desk, she asked that I shake like a dog first, and I can’t really blame her) before finally plopping down at a nice warm table in a small café. After a quick lunch it was back on the train and the beginning of the thawing process.
SABES QUE…
Alcoy, in Alicante province, proudly boasts the oldest cabalgata in Spain, and possibly, the Town Hall says, even the world. It’s been celebrated without interruption since 1885.
The three kings have names: Melchor, Gaspar and Baltasar. I heard a joke with word play on Baltasar, it sounds like ‘va-a-saltar’, which means ‘going to jump’. This is the punchline of the joke and all I can remember. (pictured: The Baltasar I saw in Valencia)
