Getting to Know You, Valencia

It’s been a learning process, for sure.

Part of the challenge of living in Valencia for two months is that, yes, we are tourists and, no, we’re not quite tourists. Staying in a long term rental means there are sheets to wash, sinks to clean, floors to mop and garbage to take out as well as sights to see. All part of the deal.

Valenica, like any major city, is so much more than the “must see” highlights in the old town center. It has a huge variety of neighborhoods—swanky, working class, trendy, suburban, beachfront, and industrial. Places we would never see if we were here for just a few days or a week.

Some date back to the mid-nineteenth century and some to the post Franco era. Valencia was the capital of the Republic during the civil war, 1936-39, and bombed extensively by the fascist Franco. Even the historical center has these stunning contrasts.

We’re living in the “trendy and hip” neighborhood of Ruzafa, a twenty minute walk from the city center. Endless restaurants, bars, nightclubs, tattoo parlors, and vintage clothing shops. At night, the place is crazy. And crazy loud.

Still, people do actually live in Ruzafa. Lots and lots of them in four to six story apartment buildings ranging from grandiose and ornate to humble concrete boxes.

During the day, we hear school children, see seniors strolling, watch dog walkers, and dodge business types off to work. Many of the residents do their daily or weekly shopping in the huge, concrete public market, Mercado de Ruzafa.

The Mercado on the left with hardly a tourist in sight and supermarket on right also without tourists.

But the same folks pack the giant American style supermarket, Mercadona—which by the way, you could easily miss since the entrance since it’s a nondescript single door amid all the others at street level. Minimal signage. And there are also dozens of mini-marts and fruit and vegetable stands that stay open well after the Mercado and Mercadona are closed.

So living here we’ve learned to shop at both the Mercado and the Mercadona for our home cooked meals. We can’t eat every meal out—though it’s tempting. We’ve also relied upon someone else to do the “home” cooking and bought excellent prepared food at some of the specialty takeout stores. A real lifesaver at times.

Lasagna, paella, roast chicken & or a variety of salads — lots of choices

Another part of living here is that get togethers with friends often don’t take place at home. Many apartments are tiny, not really suitable for even small gatherings. Like ours.

You meet at a restaurant or bar for the evening or for lunch and the table is your for as long as you like—often hours. Our friends even invited us to a game night at a local Irish pub where different groups huddled around tables — ate, drank and played board games all evening.

And as for getting around, well, mastering public transit is a must—none of our Valencia friends have cars. Cars are a luxury, parking impossible, and the traffic horrific. Getting a license is a linguistic and bureaucratic challenge. The good news is that there’s a great transit system and it’s dirt cheap. Clean subways and air conditioned buses! We’re still struggling with bus routes that our friends know like the back of their hands. More good news—taxis are plentiful and inexpensive for those times you want a little more comfort.

There’s adjusting to “Spanish time”. Meals: lunch at 2:00, dinner at 10:00. Always check the hours and days for restaurants, stores, and museums. The 2-5 pm siesta still happens for many establishments, including museums in the heart of the tourist district. Also, closing days wildly vary. Seems each time we walk down a familiar street something new is open and something familiar is closed. No rhyme or reason. And in September we’re seeing signs hanging in windows saying “Closed for a vacation.” Four times so far this trip we found ourselves on the outside looking into a closed museum, closed store, or closed restaurant.

Small things call for adjustments, too. In almost all bars, coffee shops, restaurants, the waiter will come to the table to take your order. It may take time, but they’ll get to you. On the other hand, if dining outside, you may need to go inside to the register to pay the bill. Almost always you have to ask for the check. We’ve been assured by our local friends that you rarely clear your own dishes, no matter how casual the bar or restaurant is. Tipping is not expected. Cash is almost non-existent. Everybody pays “con tarjeta”—with a phone or credit card. And you can use a card for even the smallest transactions.

Perhaps one of the hardest lessons has been to navigate the streets with bike lanes. Very common throughout the city, they are usually painted red and sometimes run alongside the road, but also often merge onto the sidewalks so you’re never sure whether you’re in a bike lane or on a sidewalk. DO NOT WALK in the bike lanes! The bikes and scooters barrel along at insane speeds and own those lanes. When you’re walking along, reading a map or looking at the sights, it’s way too easy to drift into the danger zone.

Drivers in cars, on the other hand, are generally courteous, stopping for any one standing at a cross walk. Such courtesy takes a little getting used to although locals hardly look up from their phones when they hit a crosswalk without a light. It’s different at stoplights. There bicycles, and pedestrians, even moms pushing strollers, ignore red lights if there are no vehicles within striking distance.

But there is even a worse danger. In the old city large groups of tourists get on bikes and ride around the major sights. Just imagine. 10-20 people who may not have ridden a bike for years trying to follow the guy with the bright baseball cap in front of the herd. It’s fairly benign in the city parks but around the historical sites just imagine those bikes wobbling through dozens of walkers, strollers and pedestrians. All because Valencia is a flat and “bike-able” city.

These differences, especially the small ones, keep us on our toes as we try to make sense of it all. And that’s part of the adventure!

Yes, we’re starting to know you, Valencia, both as wide-eyed tourists and as everyday residents.

The Slow Down on Valencia

Something new, something different for us.

And after many years of travel, we’ve seen most of the “must see” sights. We’ve done the mini-grand tours of Eastern Europe, Italy, France, Spain, and the UK, hopping from place to place over a couple weeks. Having been teachers, we always had the luxury of time for summer travel—even if it was low budget. You know—backpacks, picnic meals, and cheap rooms with bathrooms down the hall. Early, early Rick Steves.

But as we’ve aged and particularly after we retired, we have tried to spend more time in one location—finding a home base and using it for day trips and outings. It worked spectacularly well in the Dordogne, Provence, Umbria, Portugal, and most recently in the Valencia province in Spain. Our usual stay is about two or three weeks in one place and then move, minimizing the number of days on the road, packing and unpacking. It lets us get to know better a region, maybe meet some locals, enjoy the ambiance, and find the hidden gems. Slow down.

But this year, we decided to take it one step further. And slow down even more.

We are renting an apartment in Valencia, Spain, for two months. We went through a real rental agency, not a short-term vacation rental company like VRBO. We signed a contract. And moved in.

Our apartment above a Sardinian restaurant, the church at the end of the street and the public market across the road.

Of course, we had our share of worries. Could we find enough to do for two months? What if the apartment was a dump? Could we adjust to the Spanish time for eating and sleeping? Would the language barrier be problem?

All we had was the outline of a scheme. Spend the first weeks digging more deeply into the third largest city in Spain. Master public transportation for day trips to nearby sights. Take a few overnight train trips to other towns. Maybe rent a car for further away places. At the price we’re paying for a two month rental (about what we would pay for two weeks in short-term vacation rental), we can afford to spend a few nights in other places.

Early days yet — not quite a week — but everything is working out splendidly—so far plenty to do (we’ve even joined a local gym), the apartment is comfortable and perfectly located right across from Mercado de Ruzafa.

We are already on the Spanish schedule, and with tourist Spanish and English speakers everywhere, no real language issues. Yes, we are getting used to the noise level in our hip and trendy neighborhood of Ruzafa—numerous restaurants on our street are open until around midnight. But when you eat dinner at 9:30 pm go to bed at 1 am, and get up around 9 am, noise is not really a problem. As we were told several years ago in Seville, Americans just need to move their clocks three hours. Before lunch means any time up until 3 pm. We’ve found a decent neighborhood espresso joint — not quite as easy to do here as in Italy or France — our favorite cheese guy, a grumpy fishmonger and a bakery. Yep, we’re settling in. Many, many restaurants within a five minute walk — Lebanese, lots of Italian options, a couple Mexican places and even sushi. And we have barely explored beyond our neighborhood.

Part of the restaurant scene in the Russafa neighborhood

So why Valencia?

Last year we visited the Valencia province for two weeks but the city itself for just three days. We chose Valencia because of the city’s amazing sights and history, its lovely Mediterranean seaside location and its great food scene. But more importantly, I had a former work colleague and good friend who moved there last year permanently with her husband, mother, and three dogs. Valencia is her new life.

We had two lovely, long lunches with her and her friends (all from our home town of Seattle) last year. Other than a wonderful morning tour led by one of her very knowledgeable friends, we didn’t get to see a lot of the city. When asked what we did in Valencia, we said, “We ate lunch.”

But that very, very brief encounter with Valencia the city convinced us we wanted more.

We have a long list of main tourist sights we missed last year on our “to see” list. We’ve already checked off the Turia river park, including sunset views of the City Arts and Sciences buildings.

But there is so much more — several sights we’ve “seen” that we want to get back to and spend some time with — the National Ceramics Museum, the Valencia Catheral (with the Pope’s certified real holy grail), and a dozen more. Plus on the “to do” list—shopping at the second hand stores and flea markets, eating at a vast variety of restaurants (from Michelin starred places to hole in the wall local joints), taking cooking classes and wine tastings, biking, swimming in the Mediterranean, and most importantly, spending time with our friends.

On advice from our local friends, we’ve already identified some day trips—Sagunto with its famous castle, Requena—the center of the local wine industry, Xativa—birthplace of the Borgia popes. We also want to go back to a lovely rural restaurant we ate at twice an hour and half outside Valencia, El Casa Tio David, with our friends.

Yes, we think we’ve found the right place to test our new, slower, different approach to travel.

And from first impressions, we’re already beginning to ask ourselves “Will two months really be enough?”

Monkey Wars

So, so cute! Really, who couldn’t love monkeys?

They are definitely part of the Costa Rican nature experience. Every other time we’ve been to Costa Rica we’ve encountered them. In nature preserves and national parks, next to our rentals, near restaurants, hanging on the power lines. Even watched them from an infinity pool on the Osa peninsula. They are everywhere. We’ve seen three of the four species in the country—howlers, white-faced, and spiders. The only one we haven’t seen is the very rare squirrel monkey.

But this trip we’ve only had a fleeting glimpse of them — very disappointing. In fact, one of our travel companions, Denise, an animal lover, was quite upset and worried that she would get back home never having seen a monkey. And we were coming to the end of our visit. It was our last four days and we were now up near Monteverde in the Cloud Forest. Desperation time!

Early morning birding near Curi-Concha Reserve, but no monkeys

We had an easy solution. We’d been told by our favorite birding guide, Adrian Mendez, [adrianmendez@hotmail.com] if you want to see the white-faced monkeys, go to Stella’s, a local coffee shop. You’ll definitely see them there busily trying to steal food from unsuspecting patrons eating outside. It reminded us of our first encounter years ago when they tried to grab our backpacks in Manual Antonio National Park. The park now bans tourists from bringing in any food because the monkeys got so used to human food they couldn’t feed themselves and died off during Covid when the park was closed for two years. So we were all set to head to Stella’s for a lunch for our up close and personal encounter with monkeys.

But as luck would have it, we didn’t have to leave our vacation rental at all. We had booked a lovely rental outside of Santa Elena. Beautiful serene setting, lovely views of trees complete with a stream just below our house, and surrounded by the Cloud Forest jungle. We could sit on our wrap around balcony and bird watch from armchairs.

Nearby there was a large colony of Montezuma oropendolas. It is a spectacularly beautiful bird with a very unpleasant, noisy call. The birds build large hanging nests high up trees—an amazing feat of engineering given the high winds in this region.

Peter was outside watching the oropendolas when he yelled “Monkeys!” “Denise, come quick!” We all grabbed our cameras and phones and ran outside. From the yard we could see several white-faced monkeys, snapping off the bromeliads in the trees and eating the juicy base of each plant. Cute. So cute.

We keep moving around to get a better look—first outside the house under the trees and then on to the balcony as the monkeys got closer and closer.

Now we realized there weren’t just several monkeys, but a lot of monkeys.

They rip off the bromeliads and eat the base of each plant

We were happily snapping photos and taking videos when we saw a large male getting closer and closer. He was focused on us. Maybe even glaring at us. We just kept taking pictures of the cute ones.

And he kept moving closer until he was on a branch just ten feet or so from our balcony viewing point. We continued taking pictures. Obviously, we missed his message. The fangs came out, the snarling began. He started charging up and down the branch very excitedly now only a few feet from us.

Wisely, we quickly retreated inside, closed and locked the sliding glass door, and watched from a large bedroom window. He glared at us through the window, and then for emphasis he snapped a large branch off and threw to the ground.

But as a final parting gesture, he turned around, pointed his ass at us, and shit. Yes, we did indeed get the message.

About a half an hour later, we were in the kitchen retelling the story when he showed up again outside the sliding glass door, snarling at us. He broke another branch off an ornamental tree. And then with special emphasis grabbed the lid off the recycle bin and tossed to the ground looking straight at us! So there! Just in case we hadn’t received the earlier message. We locked the kitchen sliding glass door, and every other door and window in the house.

Sitting in the living room, we watched the whole troop march by, babies and all, as though they were patrolling the perimeter of their territory.

We worried. Could we make it to the car to go to dinner? As we left that evening we were startled to see a white faced monkey sitting by the car. Was it him? Waiting in ambush? The monkey ran to the other side of the car. We drew straws to see who had to go out first.

That night Denise didn’t sleep very well. Every unidentified sound might be a monkey trying to break in.

But she had seen her monkeys.

Changes

Change is good, right? Progress is important, right? New is better, right?

Coming back to our favorite corner of Costa Rica, Potrero and Playa Flamingo on the Nicoya Peninsula for the fifth time in eight years, we’re not so sure. Maybe.

Gone are the two little funky stands where we bought our wonderful fresh fruits and vegetables. One is being replaced by a modern office complex. The other is permanently closed.

Our favorite little fruit stand used to be here.

Now we have to drive 20 minutes south to the closest produce stand.

Why did the local fruit stands close? Why did several of the smaller soda restaurants we liked disappear? Probably the land was too valuable for mom and pop businesses. New homes, office complexes, storage units, medical facilities, and a huge new gas station have sprung up in the last year. We even have the first ever stop light in the region in nearby Huacas! And God knows, with the increase in traffic that was one change that was really needed.

The very upscale Playa Flamingo Marina is finally open with an elegant collection of shops and restaurants, and, yes, a helicopter pad that seems quite busy ferrying in guests.

The new Marina which will be doubled in size in a year or two with even more upscale products for tourists and the yacht crowd

When we first came eight years ago, the bay was filled with humble pangas and a few fishing charters—all moored on buoys. Now there are a few mega yachts and dozens of smaller yachts in the new marina. The super mega yachts are too big for the marina and have to drop anchor in the bay and send their tenders in. We have seen a few of those lately, including Starbuck’s Howard Schultz’s 254 ft yacht Pi. But no worries, there are plans in the near future to provide super mega yacht moorage, double the size of the marina’s commercial space and add a 200 “key” hotel (not 200 rooms because apparently the each unit will have several rooms).

Just today the first ever cruise ship, The World, pulled into Potrero Bay—it’s a luxury residential ship where “condos” start 2.3 million. But no where to dock…yet.

“The World” a floating condo in Potrero Bay

And with the all the new development, prices have risen accordingly. A casado plate (the typical Costa Rican meal of rice, beans, some protein, plantains and a salad) in a local soda, a small family run restaurant, was $4-$6 dollars a few years ago is now typically $8-10. A regular restaurant meal with a drink was $10-15 is now $20-25. Yes, still a bargain compared to our hometown Seattle prices—but not the incredible deal it used to be. And should you go to a “tourist” restaurant you will be paying nearly Seattle prices.

Our local grocery, the Massai Market always catered to the gringo crowd, but we also saw a fair number of Ticos as well. Now gringos dominate. The market has been upscaled and has a new, large refrigerated wine and spirits room—the selection would rival most U.S. stores. Single malt whiskies, pricey bourbons, expensive grand cru wine, champagnes. All at US prices.

There is also another brand new grocery store — this one away from most of the new development and closer to the Tico area of town. It’s clientele is mainly locals so the changes aren’t just for the gringo crowd.

Maybe the good news is that despite all that is changed, much has remained as it always was. The beaches are still uncrowded, particularly for our morning walks. We watch the sunset from the beach surrounded by locals—nary a gringo in sight.

The Ticos are still warm, friendly people, the food is great, and the natural beauty of the area still awes.

We also know that while we maybe missing the quaintness of mom and pop fruit stands, sodas, and a bay filled with pangas bobbing on mooring buoys, the Ticos here see more jobs, better pay, better infrastructure, better housing. The biggest source of foreign income in Costa Rica is tourism. Since we’ve been coming here we’ve seen a dramatic improvement the roads, cell coverage and internet. All huge pluses for the locals.

One change that is not welcome by the locals and the tourists alike is climate change. On our way up to Potrero and Playa Flamingo, we stopped in Uvita at the Ballena Marine Park. Along the beach there were signs in Spanish and English warning that rising seas were threatening pristine coastal areas and swaths of coconuts trees that lined the shore showed the damage.

Warning in Spanish about the “waves of climate change” and in English about the risk to the beaches while the damage to the trees is evident.

In Potrero last November, it rained for 21 straight days, causing massive flooding and cutting off whole communities for weeks. Tourism came to grinding halt—causing a number of businesses to fold. The climatic forces that created the Cloud Forest are out of balance, potentially leading to loss of this precious ecosystem. Our guide in Santa Elena this year told us “summer” came just two days before we got here. And every year we come, Potrero seems to be a degree or two hotter. The beaches here show the signs of high tides and storms eating into the headlands.

Will we come back to Playa Flamingo and Potrero? Probably. Our thinking now is that we will continue to make forays into different parts of Costa Rica next year, looking for a bit of what captivated us on our first trip here and has lured us back again and again.

Serendipity

We left sea level about an hour into the drive from the Pacific coast. 98 degrees the car thermometer read. After three weeks in the tropical jungle and tropical desert of Costa Rica, we were heading to the mountains where the forecast said the high temperature would be 75 degrees. A mere 66 miles from Playa Flamingo to Monteverde in the mountains if we were crows, but by road— 122 miles. Three and half hours to go 122 miles. Normal in Costa Rica.

We’ve learned to shy away from the “major” roads — almost all of which are only two lanes inevitably clogged by the hundreds of slow moving trucks that transport goods. Costa Rica lacks navigable rivers and has almost no railroads .Everything goes by road. And given the many mountain ranges, there is rarely a direct road from point A to point B. The smaller roads may be narrower and more potholed, sometimes gravel, but ultimately your speed is the same. The traffic is more manageable and driving through the hamlets and villages much more interesting.

Our plan was to drive until the temperature dropped out of the 30+ Celsius range and then break up the drive with a quick bite to eat. Our rental car was all wheel drive so we weren’t overly concerned about the steep, narrow and rutted roads we knew were part of the day’s drive. It always amazed us that the road to a major tourist destination like the Monteverde Cloud forest could be so bad.

About half way up the Tilaran Mountains, after passing a few scattered homes tucked into the mountain sides, a warning light came on in our rental saying the transmission was overheating. Panic! This was a new car. And the manual that came with it was all in Spanish!

Luckily, almost simultaneously we came to a wider spot in the road with a covered parking area beside what looked to be an abandoned restaurant. As soon as we stopped the “abierto” came on. It didn’t look too promising from the outside and the livestock pen underneath might have put off some people, but we were hungry and we had to let the car sit and cool down…so why not!

Inside it looked, well, okay. Empty, completely empty, but tidy and clean. We were pretty sure the owner/waiter spoke no English, but Peter could speak a little tourist Spanish so we knew we’d muddle through. The menu wasn’t big. Mainly familiar Tico fare—casados, arroz con pollo, some grilled meats — all,big meals. The fast food page (comida rapida) had hamburgers, hot dogs, tacos which seemed more appropriate for lunch. And, of course, Imperial beer, because it had already been that kind of day. Our expectations were pretty low until we began to smell the beef for the hamburgers grilling.

When the food arrived, we were wowed! It could have come out of a high priced gastro-pub anywhere back home. Elegant presentation. Fresh ingredients. Cooked to order. (Tacos were $5 US and hamburgers just a bit more.) The tacos were four fried cylinders of ground beef under a pile of sliced vegetables dressed with a cheesy white sauce and slightly spicy sweet tomato sauce. The hotdog came with the same treatment, and the hamburgers had two kinds of cheese, slices of ham and were as juicy as you want them to be. Messy but wonderful. Definitely a knife and fork burger. Service was efficient and attentive.

Oh, and the view!

The Gulf of Nicoya in the distance below us

The transmission cooled down. And we were off once again, headed to our rental outside of Santa Elena. However, our day of surprises was not quite over. With fewer than ten miles to go our GPS told us we would arrive in 40 minutes. But first we had to pause for a small group of dairy cows to be driven across the road.

We knew going into it that the day was likely to be challenging — travel days usually are. And we had been on these roads before. But good old fashion dumb luck had landed us at Rancho El Corral for a very memorable meal. Serendipity. Almost makes us wish we were going back on that awful road when we leave here in a few days! Almost….

Traveling on Our Stomachs

It was a tragedy in Madrid! We were catching the train to Valencia and Peter had packed our chef knives in his suitcase. We travel with our own knives—most rentals understandably have cheap sets. Dangerously dull. We had flown everywhere with this set, including a train ride in the EU just a year ago. But apparently laws and security have changed. Peter was pulled aside after his bags went through a metal detector. An officious security employee held each knife and the scissors up to a poster on the wall that showed an outline of a tiny pocket knife. He carefully measured each one—surprise, our knives were way too big. Our precious set was tossed into a locked metal bin never to be seen again. We had to muddle through at our rental home with the miserable set provided. Our knife sharpener could do little to improve them

Yes, we do travel on our stomachs. We often begin a visit to a new city or region with a food tour. And a great part of the enjoyment of any trip is hitting the open air markets, buying some produce and fixing a dinner. Any AirBnb we rent must have a good kitchen. It gives us a reason to linger as we walk through the food stalls. It opens up conversations with locals when you ask for advice on how to cook something we don’t see at home. Everyone in a food market loves food and most are eager to talk about it.

But even shopping European supermarkets brings us joy. Do you know how many different cuts of meat are available outside of the US? Whole chickens grouped by age, not packaged away in matching sets of pieces and sealed in uniform plastic trays. Beef cheeks (delicious when slowly braised in red wine with onions, garlic and some tomatoes), lamb breast or pork collar! Sure, you can hunt these cuts down in the US, but our local stores, as great as they are, rarely carry them.

The best souvenirs we bring home are food related — our cataplana from Portugal, chopstick rests from China, a special bottle of Spanish olive oil, an old cheese straining pot we found in a flea market in Provençe for less than a dollar.

So how do we pack for a trip where home cooking is going to be big part of the fun. First, a good knife set, (chef’s knife, a paring knife and a serrated blade) assuming you are traveling by plane or car. Lacking a good knife set, or for future train travel in the EU, a knife sharpener. A small meat thermometer and wine opener are essential. As room allows: a small hand grater, and a vegetable peeler.

Spices and seasonings are very important as well. Yes, we often bring some of our own. We think about where we’re going and what kinds of foods we will likely find. Whether the rental has a grill or an oven. What food items will be easy or impossible to acquire once we’re settled in. For years a small metal candy box served as the spice kit, filled with small plastic cups of our favorite spices. The box suffered damage on the last trip. So now we are using glass vials Costco sold vanilla beans in—wrapped in a kitchen towel because most rental kitchens have only one or two towels. We also use small plastic condiment cups with lids saved from our favorite take-out spots or purchased at our local restaurant supply store.

We never packed liquids until this year. In Spain last fall we were given home pressed olive oil in a glass bottle. We had to get it home safely. Cut up a yoga mat, wrap the bottle, put it in a cardboard tube. Presto! Problem solved. So on our trip to Costa Rica a small bottle of fish sauce went in that tube, and along with some other spices and some added cushioning; it arrived just fine. We knew the good produce available in Costa Rica would lend itself to Asian cuisine — stir frys, Asian salads skewers of chicken and pork. Interestingly, we found Costa Rican brands of soy sauce and other Asian seasonings in most grocery stores!

Knowing we have some basic spices, we start with a very flexible shopping list, grouping food items based upon recipes or dishes we want to cook. If a critical ingredient isn’t to be found, the recipe gets tossed. We were going to make a Thai dish with ground chicken, coconut milk, lime peel and a few other things. No ground chicken. Flipped the recipe to chicken lettuce wraps, using whole chicken breasts we minced. You have to be flexible. Yesterday I found some handmade tortillas for sale at a produce stand! Street tacos for dinner tonight!

And, of course, some destinations are easier than others. In France? Ou la la! Grab pastry dough at the supermarket, local goat cheese at the fromagerie, and zucchini or mushrooms or sweet peppers from the farmers market. Viola! A vegetable, cheese tart. Add some lettuce tossed with a vinaigrette. A fabulous dinner. It’s a little tougher in other areas where farmers’ markets are few and the supermarkets are less grand. But still doable. As long as you have WiFi or cell reception, you don’t need to pack a cookbook. And we have downloaded a recipe app that allows us to take our old reliable recipes on the road.

Meals can be super simple — some charcuterie, some cheese, a jar or two of artichoke or tapenade, a loaf of bread and some olives or pickled vegetables from the market.

On the other hand, our evening’s entertainment is opening a bottle of local wine, fixing a dinner with the local ingredients and enjoying the comforts of our rental home. It all fits in with our mode of travel — go slow, eat good food and soak in the ambiance.

We just have to be sure to walk a lot so we can fit in our clothes on the way home.

New Horizons in Costa Rica

We wrote a blog several years ago about how comforting it was to travel back to the familiar. You know the stores, restaurants, the roads. What to see, what to avoid. And yet we also usually find something or some place new to explore. This was our fifth trip to Costa Rica and again, we were planning on spending part of our time in Potrero, our home base, on the Nicoya peninsula on the Pacific side. Lovely beaches, decent tourist infrastructure, but not over taken by souvenir shops Then a few days in Monteverde chasing birds. But this time we would add a trip down south to the Osa Peninsula. A new horizon.

What is stunning about Costa Rica is how many completely different climatic and geographic regions are packed into a small country. Dry, almost desert on the North Pacific coast, tropical rain forest on the mid Pacific coast, even more dense, hot tropical forests further south, the temperate central valley, the cool Cloud Forest in the mountains, the Caribbean lowlands, and the high southern mountains.

Osa is a long drive from San Jose. Even longer because you inevitably find lots of construction zones and a very slow truck or two to follow for tens of miles. So we decided to stop in Uvita on the central Pacific coast along the way to break up the trip.

Some suggest our first stop, Uvita, is an alternative to the more touristy Quepos and Manuel Antonio, just a bit further down the road. It’s a town with no main square or center, and has one main attraction—the Ballena Marine national park. This very unusual park has a huge sand spit that from above looks exactly like a whale’s tail. Unfortunately we were there at high tide; no whales tail but a gorgeous beach.

It was also prime time for the humpback whale migration so dozens of small whale watching boats were being launched through the rough, heavy surf, occasionally dumping a tourist or two into the water.

We spent two days there exploring the national park, looking for monkeys, watching birds and walking the beautiful local beaches. A good stop along the way to the Osa Peninsula.

The Osa Peninsula is one of the more remote parts of Costa Rica—very different than where we’ve been before. We read that this area was less developed, less touristed than our previous haunts. It’s in the far south, super tropical, on the Golfo Dulce (the only tropical fjord in the northern hemisphere). The peninsula is almost entirely a national park, the Corcovado National Park, and mostly inaccessible except by boat or long hikes, as in three and four day long hikes with a ninety minute boat ride from Puerto Jimenez before you even start to walk. Spectacular wildlife—birds, monkeys, sloths, tapirs, jaguars, and snakes—lots of snakes. One of the real natural treasures of the world—it said to be the most biodiverse place on the planet.

Fortunately, it is possible to drive down the eastern side of the peninsula to Puerto Jimenez, a little run down village of mostly Ticos, some expat hippy/yoga types, and a few serious eco tourists/birders/hikers. You can drive further south on a dirt road with multiple stream crossings to Carate, but we wisely chose to end our drive at Puerto Jimenez. The town houses the main information center for the national park and you book your tours there—you must have a guide to get into the park. There is also a small airstrip with flights from San Jose, Liberia and Quepos should you not want to make the long drive. It was little disconcerting when we were sitting at a local restaurant at the port when a small plane buzzed by seemingly inches over our heads. We noticed none of the locals flinched.

There’s not much else to the town. A few restaurants, couple of yoga studios, a gas station, a BM grocery store, and a heavily advertised Saturday farmers market that takes five minutes to see but includes some indigenous people’s crafts..

Just a few but very rugged miles outside of town is another of Costa Rica’s gorgeous beach’s—Playa Preciosa. From here you can almost see Panama.

Part of Osa’s charm is its lack of serious tourist infrastructure. So we had a hard time finding a place to stay except for a few very upscale eco resorts. We wound up in the Corcovado Private Villas. We think it might have been an eco resort that fell on hard times in during Covid. We had been warned a four-wheeled vehicle was required. The website gave us a GPS waypoint that took us up a steep dirt road that reinforced the idea we needed four wheels. Unfortunately when the GPS announced “you have arrived” we were in front of nothing but a barbed wire fence. So, of course we drove on, using all four wheels on our car, as the road became progressively worse. Back home we would have called it a mountain logging road. Luckily, a kind local on a motorbike recognized we were somewhere we didn’t belong and led us back to civilization. Of course, this part of Costa Rica lacks reliable cell reception as in we had no “bars”. We had to backtrack several miles to get cell service and a new set of directions — different but only slightly better. We finally arrived. Our traveling partner in the backseat had her eyes closed most of the way up to resort, muttering occasionally “oh my goodness.” The “check in” guy, Esteban, listened rather calmly to our annimated story about getting lost and told us he too had gotten lost a few days before using the original directions. We suggested that maybe they might want to delete those directions from their website.

The complex consisted of a dozen or so separate units spaced some distance from each other along the steep trail to the top of the hill. There we found the pool, hot tub and “restaurant” which served an inclusive breakfast and you could order a dinner in advance with a very limited menu. Oh, and the whole stay was cash only and it was very unclear who you paid and when. Nobody seemed to be in charge but we figured somebody, sometime, somewhere would take our money.

The villas themselves were a bit run down, with few amenities, but very serviceable. And with gorgeous views of the green jungle teeming with birds and a few monkeys just a few feet from our balcony.

The upside, and it was a huge upside: the 70 acres of amazing tropical forest right adjacent to the national park. Some of reviews said the wildlife here was better than what they saw in the park. While we are not truly serious birders, what we experienced in the few days on the property could change our minds. Toucans, fiery billed arcaries, multiple varieties of parrots, lineated woodpeckers, and dozens more. At least several new life birds for us.

But the star attraction were the scarlet macaws—a very large bright red, yellow, blue parrot with the most awful loud sqwauk of a call which you could hear for miles. Our villa and common area seemed to be a macaw freeway with birds flying over all day, stopping to rest in the nearby trees. What a show. A very loud show.

And you could see most of this from a magnificent infinity pool at the top of the property. In one 45 minutes stint in the pool, we saw white faced monkeys, yellowed throated toucans, green parrots and, of course, lots of scarlet macaws, plus monkeys just a few yards away peeking through the foliage. Pool birding was a new experience for us. As we said, we aren’t serious birders.

And the dinner, humble as it was (arroz con pollo) was very good. However, the parting comment from our young server as we walked home to our villa was a little disturbing, “Be careful of the snakes.” We walked with all four iPhone flashlights focused on the ground.

Yes, the property needs work and serious investment. But if they ever upgraded to a high-end eco resort, we probably couldn’t afford it. By the way, while writing this in our villa some white-faced monkey is having a shit fit not far away.

The Osa Peninsula surprised us by living up to its reputation — a natural wonder, still largely pristine, a biodiverse sanctuary, and one Costa Rica’s many different climatic and geographic regions. It’s also a great example of Costa Rica’s commitment to preserving natural habitats by setting aside huge areas as national and provincial parks.

It gave us a lot to think about on the 10 hour drive back north to Potrero— basically nearly the entire length of the country.

A very special lunch

We’re clearly foodies. Some would say we are obsessed with food, particularly when we travel. We remember vividly the chilled cherry soup we had in Budapest 35 years ago. Or the fresh tuna sashimi we ate on a Micronesian island almost every day we were there 9 years ago. We do look for iconic regional foods when we travel — buckwheat crepes in Brittany, paella in Valencia and fish couscous in Trapani. We seek out the best in local produce in the peasant markets in France and on occasion, eat at Michelin star restaurants we can afford. And we are often surprised that many of those Michelin starred restaurants are tucked into corners of rural Spain and France. Who knew?

Peter found there were dozens of Michelin restaurants near where we stayed in the Valencia region. A couple were one and two star places — out of our price range. One three star nearby that was rated as the 14th best restaurant in the world by some magazine. 500€ with wine pairing. Really out of our price range. We found two restaurants nearby that were sort of “honorably mentioned” places, called bib gourmand. I guess you’d consider 1/2 stars. And in our price range.

Michelin restaurants within an hour of our headquarters in Valencia

We expected a good meal when we walked through the door of Casa El Tio David. https://casaeltiodavid.com/en/. It had a bib gourmand rating, after all. We did not expect to leave with what felt like new friends. Tio David is a family owned operation — father and son out front (both named David) and Mom in the kitchen.

The son spoke enough English, largely the universal language of travelers in Europe. Very eager to help us make good choices through the menu. For about $45 a person, we could each get four “snacks,” three appetizers and an entrée or two half orders of the entrées. What a deal!

Almost before we had ordered, the first “snack” appeared. An olive oil ice cream with a lightly pickled asparagus tip and a drizzle of fresh olive oil. Not sweet. Very rich and the asparagus tip was a perfect textural and clean taste….a quality we experienced over and over again. Essentially simple rustic dishes, the son explained, food he grew up with, now elevated with textures, contrasting flavors and unexpected twists. Crispy local black rice. Fried capers. Tiny herb leaves. We told Dad half way through the meal that he had married well. Big smiles as he patted his stomach.

Some of the snacks and appetizers clockwise from upper left: nori stuffed with caviar, farm cheese and onion on cucumber slices and fried capers; a “snack” a variation on a Bloody Mary made with beetroot; a palate cleanser of peach purée with iced sangria (wine seeped in cinnamon and verbena), served with a bit of brandy poured over; romesco soup, with fig oil, apple cubes and olive, and eggplant “toasts”

With each dish, Dad came to the table and with great enthusiasm described what we were about to enjoy. All in Valencian. We understood almost none of it. The son would then translate, usually an abbreviated version. The four of us shared a bottle of cava, but decided we wanted some red, a half bottle, with the entrée, a braised lamb. After some discussion with the son about which wine would be best (he was a very knowledgeable sommelier) he brought a whole bottle to the table, told us to drink half and “Dad would enjoy the rest.”

Clockwise from upper left, a half entrée of turbot on a purée of local berries, carrot slices and fried capers, an appetizer of smoked beef rounds in beef reduction with morels, and garden vegetables, the wine with shared with Dad, and an entrée of oxtail paella with sweet potato, carrots and potatoes.

We enjoyed the lunch so much we decided to come back on our last evening in the area. But the real reason—because of the father/son tag team. As is so often the case, the staff made the evening special. They made it a party. After running the restaurant for 25 years, they still brought joy and fun and enthusiasm to the job.

Two of the desserts we enjoyed. A pastry — sort of baked French toast with an apple base and served with frozen egg custard. Chocolate mousse with soft cream puff .

We sent our compliments to the chef and said our adios, three hours after we sat down for our two o’clock lunch.

On our second visit the food was as good, the staff just as much fun. No disappointment at all. And then there was the Moorish lamb, the corvino (a white fish) served with shrimp and baby squid, tomato, and black rice chips, tiny octopus slices with lightly pickled garden vegetables, capers, fried lentils and seeds or chorizo purée with fried bacon cubes, a smoked egg yolk, mushrooms and brandy soaked raisins — dishes we were too busy enjoying to remember to take pictures.

The final delight came when the son told us mom, the chef, wanted to meet us! She arrived dressed in her official Michelin coat, chef’s hat on and fresh lipstick! Hugs, bis’s and handshakes all around. She presented us with bottles of olive oil. Proudly they explained the olives came from their trees, that they had picked the olives themselves and each bottle was hand numbered and lettered with the date of production and their version of a “Best Buy” date. With great reluctance we said goodbye four hours after we had sat down.

We doubt any fancy meal, regardless of how great the food is, will top this experience. Ever.

David, David and Francesca of Casa de Tio David

And if you are ever anywhere near this restaurant, stop by and say hello to our friends!

Small sights

A friend told us he and his partner, experienced travelers, no longer were interested in the “A” sights — sort of been there, done that. We agree. Generally major tourist sights are “A” listed for very good reasons — they are amazing and should be seen at least once. The Eiffel Tower, Big Ben, the Colosseum, the Great Wall, the Alhambra, the Kremlin or Sagrada Familia! And they are also usually mobbed with other tourists.

After visiting those gems, we now are looking for the quieter corners. Less visited, but special in a different way.

That’s why we chose the Valencia region of Spain. Lots of “B” sites, plenty of history, and beautiful country.

Case in point: Ontinyent (in Valencian) or Onteniente (in Spanish), our home town, in the midst of the La Valle d’Albraida, has a historic medieval quarter built on the streets created by the Moors. Narrow passage ways that bend and curve and end. A good morning walk.

Tallest church spire in the Valencia region, some modern art and local residents we met on our walk

Maybe twenty minutes away is the small town of Bocairent. We walked the old quarter, following a map of late eighteenth century fountains. Many are still used today and most have a tile plaques providing details. Through the gaps between the buildings we could see into the valley and across to the caves. They were apparently used by Moors for storing grain centuries ago. We did not tour the caves as the tourist information official told us, we would have to “walk like cats and dogs” to see the caves.

Sights around Bocairent, and clear evidence the old water fountains still serve a purpose

Not much further away was the town of Requena, the heart of the local wine industry, primarily from a grape largely unknown at home, bobal. Wine has been grown in this region since the seventh century. We wound up at a winery recommended by a friend, Murviedro. A tasting there included a tour of the network of caves, used centuries ago for storing wine, olive oil and other goods. Once connected to houses above, when the houses were demolished to create a square, the caves were forgotten until recently rediscovered. It was an unusual setting for a wine tasting. We ended up with eight bottles of wine, including the four “young” bottles that were included in the price of the tasting (reservations recommended). All very drinkable.

The winery, with old storage casks in the caves and stairs that once led to a house above.

Another nearby town, Villena, with its Atalaya Castle, made clear the Moorish influence on the region. Built in the Twelfth century as a fortress against the Christian invasion, it was used in subsequent centuries as a gift for royal favorites, a safe haven in times of turmoil, and ultimately a prison (complete with graffiti from priests, captured in the 18th and 19th century wars). Good information posted on each floor as we climbed to the top. Really well done. Today the town appears to be going through a renaissance with the old Moorish style homes being refurbished and jazzed up.

The fortress looking down on the church that was once a Moorish mosque

We saved the best for our last day in the region. We didn’t have a lot of time so we picked one of the closer towns, Albaida. We followed our GPS right to the main square in front of the church. It looked like a pretty sleepy place on the Day of Spain holiday.

Peter found an open door and was invited in. Turns out this was a school for the bell ringers. Kids as young as six began learning the craft and that’s part of the reason why bell ringing at Albaida’s church is a UNESCO Heritage activity, continuously practiced in the traditional way — by hand — for 800 years. Other towns may hand ring their bells on special occasions or mechanically mark the hours of the day. Not Albaida. Every day, every hour and every quarter hour from morning to night, they ring the bells by hand.

We were invited to try ringing the learner bells ourselves and then got to climb to the top of the tower to hear the real thing! I lost count of the steps — there were a lot. We — four Americans and a handful of locals — gathered beneath the bells and waited. One of the young men in the group, and a stylish grandmother both chipped into help the guide explain things in English to us Americans. Typical of the response we get from locals here — pleased to help us and slightly surprised we Americans chose their community for our holiday.

Finally, using the ropes that extended to the ground floor the bells began to move. Unbelievable sound! Three slow, loud gongs followed by a song of bells. We never saw the woman who rang the bells that day!

It’s these little things — finding hidden treasures that sometimes just locals know about, chance encounters with people who offer an insiders perspective, and a chance to see things seeing up close and personal. It keeps us coming back to the small places. Onteniente, Bocairent, Requena, Villena, Albaida—these are on no ones “A” list, but are still little gems.

Why Here??

This was the question we got from the young grocery clerk practicing his English in Ontinyent, Spain. Nobody comes here, was his implication. Another clerk had asked us the same thing in the same tone. And it was actually a very, very good question!

Ontinyent (in Valencian) or Onteniente (in Spanish) is a rural county seat in the Valencia province of no real historical or touristic interest. Population: 35,000. Yes, like all towns and villages in this area it has a past dating back to Moorish times and even before. It has a sort of cute medieval old town surrounded by Franco era apartments. Its only real tourist claims to fame are a series of clear pools on the Clarino River called the Pou Clar. People swim there in the summer, but the parking lot near the pools is closed in the high season and you need to hike about a mile and half to get there. The pools are surrounded by terraced hills of olive and orange trees. You might think picturesque but light industry, agricultural supply and farm equipment shops and rural housing projects kind of ruin the pastoral views.

So back to the question, why are we spending two weeks here?

In part, it was exactly because we wanted to be off the beaten path, away from the heavily touristed towns and cities, but close enough to make day excursions to those sites. And it turns out Ontinyent is a perfect location for exactly that. Valencia—one hour. Alicante—one hour. The seaside resorts of the Costa Blanca—one hour. The historic towns of Denia, Gandia — 40 minutes. The Albufera lagoon and El Palmar (the home of paella)—one hour. The quaint hill town of Bocairent—15 minutes. And one of the best, the castle hill town of Xativa—twenty minutes. National parks and hikes nearby. Kayaking on the Mediterranean. More than enough to keep us busy for two weeks.

Of course, a rental car is an absolute necessity. And driving in a foreign country can be stressful. But the good news is that the roads and freeways here are amazing—well maintained, excellent signage, and not very crowded. Spanish drivers are on the whole some of the most courteous we’ve encountered. With a good GPS system, we never got lost—even in the town and city centers.

One other huge draw—our manor house. It really was a big, big factor. We rented the house (an AirBnB) for two weeks just outside Ontinyent. La Baronia de Dalt. It is a grand old manor house with large, lovely grounds and a swimming pool. Five bedrooms, three en-suite. 5 bathrooms. AC. Large dining room, big kitchen and two large outside patios for al fresco meals. Lots of art work and beautiful tiles. And all at price you’d be lucky to pay at a Holiday Inn Express in the US. We were two couples, but the house could have easily had four couples or one very, very large family.

Still with all the charms the manor house had, the real attraction was the surrounding sites. A bit of the history of the Romans. Then Visigoths. Obvious remains of the Moors, and Christians in the Middle Ages. Often in the same site.

Our favorite place nearby is Xativa, a short drive away. The huge castle complex high above the town dominates. Thankfully, you can drive to the top although locals seem to use the 30 minute hike up to the top as an exercise routine. It is a defensive marvel. Steep cliffs on all sides. The Romans saw its value. Hannibal used it in his war against the Romans. The Moors expanded it. The Christians continued to use it until modern weapons in the early 1700’s and several earthquakes made it obsolete.

The medieval town far below is famous for one family—the Borjas. Two Spanish Popes were born here. Calixtus III and Alexander VI (father of Lucretzia and Cesare)—both with less than stellar reputations. Were they really that bad or were they simply victims of an anti-Spanish Italian propaganda campaign? Anyway, this is a pro Borja town.

The old town is delightful to wander around. On Tuesdays and Fridays there is a huge outdoor market that takes over several plazas and streets.

And there are plenty of top-notch restaurants hidden away in these little towns — we were surprised at the number of Michelin stars within a half an hour or so, including one where we had probably the best meal of the trip.

The area is also known for its excellent wines—not as famous as Rioja or Penedes—but very good and at prices that astounded us. A glass of excellent red at restaurant was often less than bottled water. The local grape, bobal, produces a fine red wine comparable to a Cotes du Rhône.

So “Why here??” Great sightseeing, beaches, hiking, wonderful food, good wine, fewer crowds, great accommodations, and, by the way, perfect weather in October. We think the answer is pretty clear.