Vidiot here ... still roaming the streets of Spain. My overseas coworkers arranged a tour of the city of Valencia last night. I joined the group late—after needing to ditch out for an hour to pick up my late arriving luggage from the airport—and hence missed a great deal of factual information about the city. So when I rejoined the tour, I quickly made an executive decision that taking pictures outweighed listening to the tour guide. Call me a brash, rude American, but I would've forgotten the story five minutes later. The pictures will last a lifetime—or until I accidentally delete the mislabeled folder housing them on my laptop.
I won't waste your time by parlaying details of the history of this 2000-year-old city, especially since I know very few (check out Wikipedia's description of the Valencian festival currently underway here). Instead, here are several of the pictures I snapped last night:
As luck would have it, during dinner following the tour, our generous hosts provided me and the other out-of-towners with a historical guidebook of Valencia ... which made the tour almost unnecessary altogether, and which is doubly funny because my coworkers made fun of me for appearing to be the consummate picture-popping tourist. So after having worn the same clothes for 48 hours straight, it looks like my luck may actually be turning around.
More from my final day in Spain soon.
P.S. Apologies if this entry was in any way disjointed. I am the slightest bit tipsy from fresh-made Spanish apple cider, cerveza and shots of two alcohols that tasted like mint schnapps and tequila's nasty older brother.