“Was Valencia a mistake?,” I kept on thinking to myself as I hobbled around the coastal city’s historical center on a Sunday morning on the weekend of February 19th. Valencia had been on my mind for weeks. It was the one city that seemed like everyone could not talk more highly of. “Valencia es mucho mejor que Barcelona,” my seños guaranteed. Although I wasn’t exactly 100% sure about that comment, for me, any city that is by the ocean automatically gets extra points.
But I had arrived to the city a different person than I had expected to be.
The same night I had to take a 4 am bus to Valencia I had gotten into a hiking accident where I got lost in the mountains with no trail and no sun. This of course was a series of unfortunate events that I would have never expected to occur when I had booked the trip through an Erasmus organization a week prior. At the time, I had imagined a solo trip where I would meet cool people from Jaén and Granada and expand my social circle. I was going to push myself and make new friends, have something exciting and inspirational to write about, leave possible readers with the confidence that they too could go on an exciting solo trip!
How gullible! How naïve!
With my body absolutely exhausted from climbing up and down rocks the past couple of hours, there was no way that was going to happen. Simply put, I barely had any mental or physical energy to deal with myself. My entire upper leg and butt region had been cut up and bruised as I was making my way hurriedly down the mountainside. And as I gripped the sides of the seat to try sitting down in the van later that same night, I kept thinking to myself how the hell am I going to endure 4 more hours of this, nonetheless 2 more days? How am I going to talk to people I had never met before? … And in Spanish?
Well no need to worry. Cause I just didn’t.
That’s when I knew that my Myers Briggs test had gotten me all wrong! If I were truly an ENFP, then I’d feel recharged by the possibility of these new interactions. Instead, I am sure that if you look up any pictures of the trip you will see a grumpy looking person in the background of every picture. You guessed it! That’s me. I don’t even think I introduced myself to anyone. I did try striking up a conversation with two girls but after the conversation went dry after arooound 30 seconds, I decided that maybe it would be best to approach this experience… as a solitary affair.
And so, with that acceptance came a shift in my mentality. Maybe I wouldn’t make any new friends, but at LEAST I could enjoy this beautiful city… bruises and all.
So on Saturday as everyone else was getting ready for the discoteca, I was wandering around the historical center at night. This was my first true introduction to Valencia’s social scene and it didn’t disappoint. All around me people were sharing delicious food, walking hand in hand with their spouses, holding tightly to curious kids, laughing with their friends. With such a vibrant atmosphere, I didn’t feel alone.
It seems that in many Spanish cities, people never sleep. Instead, padres, madres, abuelitos all meander the city, chatting, laughing or sharing a couple of beers or wine together. When I first arrived in Spain, this nighttime social life surprised me. It was weird to see children playing around freely and without any supervision after the sun had set down. I mean is there really NO such thing as a bedtime? Sorry, that’s my jealousy speaking, back to the nice monologue: “so… as I walked around Valencia’s beautiful historical district I was grateful for this lively warm ambiance.”
Valencia is also one of the most artistic cities I have visited in Spain. It feels like its artists never learned about the four corners of a canvas. Instead their artwork, mainly coming in the form of elaborate graffiti, transgresses any attempt at conformity. It’s on doors, on walls, on posters, it’s even spray painted on top of one another. They range in topics. Some seem to be purely intended to create a captivating design. Others are clearly and unabashedly political. The hammer and sickle, the symbol of “proletarian solidarity”, are common. Regardless of one’s political leanings, however, the result of such artistic combinations is that Valencia feels like a never ending maze of surprises. At every corner, there is a street that seems to beckon you. What could it hold?
If I were with someone, I might not have been able to follow my every curiosity. I would probably just look, comment on the interesting appeal of a street, and continue on my way. But as an alone traveler, I could explore wherever J wanted to. I could stop and study the graffiti. I could take a picture and think about the angle I was using. Hell, I could even sing C. Tangana to myself.
The ability to do as one desires is a central theme in Stephanie Rosenbloom’s Alone Time: Four Seasons, Four Cities and the Pleasures of Solitude. Rosenbloom is a widely acclaimed writer for the New York Times travel section. Her 2018 book recounts her experiences solo travelling in Paris, Istanbul, Florence and New York.
She begins her journey in Paris, France– the city of love– at Les Deux Magots. Les Deux Magots is one of the most iconic cafés in Paris. It’s dark green awning and white cream chairs have charmed writers like Richard Wright and James Baldwin to sit at its tables. And on a rainy cloudy day, this café was a temporary refuge for Rosenbloom during a passing storm. If anyone knows anything about me, they know I am always in my feels, now add the warm scent of brewing coffee and the pitter patter of raindrops on a glass window??? That’s literally the perfect day.
In her chapter, “Café et Pluie – Coffee and Rain / The Science of Savoring,” she wrote about how in the company of others, food can sometimes become secondary to the experience. As you chat, the flavors and taste no longer hold as much precedence. You might comment about how delicious it is in passing but truly, the focus is or is expected to be on the person or people you are sharing the meal with. In effect you lose the ability to “savor” what you are tasting.
Rosenbloom explained that, “Savoring is actively aiming for the most joy to be found in a moment.” In terms of savoring a meal, this could mean trying to detect the hidden ingredients as you eat or closing your eyes and taking a deep inhale of the delicious scents. But Rosenbloom explained that “savoring” isn’t just about food. It’s about trying to be present in what you are doing.
Savoring is about taking note of all that make your experience whole, and indulging in it. Maybe you are on a long bus or car ride and instead of being on your phone, you take the time to really look at how the surrounding changes the farther you go. Or maybe you are simply sitting down in a park and you feel the blades of grass against your skin and listen to the birds chirping.
After reading those chapters, the concept of being wholly present had been on my mind as I walked through Valencia’s streets. And while I’d like to say that I am 100% invested in all that I do at every moment, I would be lying. Many times, I am worrying about something or aimlessly scrolling through my phone or doing whatever to distract myself. But on those rare occasions, when I am fully aware of my surroundings, everything comes alive: scents, sounds, touch. I have found that when I dedicate just a few minutes to this self-awareness, those memories months later continue to feel incredibly visceral. Like even hours or days or months after it has passed, all I need to do is close my eyes and I can imagine myself at that specific place and time.
While in Valencia, I attempted to do as Rosenbloom did: savor the moment. Even before embarking on my two hour long walk through the old town, I knew I had my heart set on one thing, ramen.
Now this may sound bizarre since Valencia is not known for it’s Japanese cuisine but for it’s paella. Paella is a dish that combines rice, and spices like saffron with fish and chicken. They are later cooked and generally served all in one deliciously large pan. While you can find paella in many Spanish restaurants and (while not personally endorsed) also in premade packages in convenience stores, Valencia is unanimously regarded both as the dish’s birthplace and where you can find it’s best “traditional” rendition.
But considering paella comes in a large platter, it seems like a food almost exclusively eaten with loved ones. I would feel weird asking for such a sizeable serving and then just sitting by myself. In general, seeing someone eat by themselves in Spain, especially in the afternoon and at night, is rare. Generally, meals are spent with friends and can last for hours. It’s a time to truly be with your loved ones, a time for cerveza, vino, azeites, tapas, entrees and then café con leche. There is no rushing. The whole point is to truly be with those around you. In a way, it is another example of ‘savoring’ a moment.
This night however I knew I’d have to deal with being a sore thumb. And while maybe my solitary figure could be viewed as a little strange, I didn’t want to pass on the opportunity to eat a delicious meal, regardless of the company or lack there of with me.
I rarely do a lot of research prior to going to a restaurant but M2M Noodles on Av. del Primat Reig 121 was different. It’s a small restaurant, nothing too alarming. It’s interior is minimal but inviting. Its walls are painted a light blueish green adorned with various paintings. While M2M Noodles primarily serves ramen, a traditionally Japanese food, its two owners, an elderly couple, are actually from China. This cultural fusion is made aware in the plates offered at the restaurant. Alongside its vegetable and meat variations of ramen, they also offers dishes like “empanada chino con carne mechada” and has translations of all its dishes in Mandarin.
“Savoring is actively aiming for the most joy to be found in a moment.”
Stephanie Rosenbloom, Alone Time: Four Seasons, Four Cities and the Pleasures of Solitude
At M2M, you can see these noodles made fresh right in front of you. This proximity to what you order is maybe what makes M2M such a well frequented and special restaurant. It feels like you are entering into a home kitche.
It has 4.7 stars on Google and when I first entered, there weren’t any available seats. Such ratings are most definitely well deserved. Since I previously lived just a stone throws away from Chinatown in Philly, I’ve had a good amount of ramen in my life but this most definitely topped them all. The noodles were fresh. The broth and spices had just the right amount of flavor and heat. And the cilantro was the perfect touch to the entire dish.
On regular occasions if I were with a friend, I may have overlooked these particularities. But as I sat by myself, I had the opportunity to truly taste how well those ingredients merged together. I could appreciate the delicious broth, thin cuts of beef and thick noodles. I experimented with how different amounts of soy sauce or vinegar impacted the taste of each bite. I twisted the noodles on my chopsticks and I have to be honest, imagined myself at Icharaku ramen shop from the Japanese anime Naruto.
It was fun and far from the lonely feeling I was worried about. While at first it was a little bit embarrassing to be the only one not sitting with anyone, I realized that I could better pay attention to the rich details of the food and the environment when I was by myself. I studied the cartons of eggs that lined the wall of the restaurant. I peeked through the royal blue curtains to the kitchen to see one of the owners bent forward, scrolling through his phone on his downtime. I wondered how the older duo had decided to open a restaurant and admired them for being able to do so in a foreign country. These are all things that if I had been with someone else, I may have never noticed.
After such a savory meal, what did I have for dessert? A deliciously sweet Magnum Caramel ice cream bar.
Where in the world 
Leave a comment