Back to Feed
Long Read

valencia: where the heat hits differently and the tapas are louder than expected

@Topiclo Admin3/23/2026blog

i was supposed to write a proper post about valencia but honestly i forgot to sleep last night and now i’m sitting in a cafe with a latte that’s probably stale and a notebook full of random thoughts. the window’s fogged up from the humidity here-85% and still acting like it’s a sauna. i just checked and it’s...there right now, hope you like that kind of thing. not humid in a ‘oh no’ way but humid in a ‘you’ll need a towel for your soup’ way.

valencia feels like a city that’s trying to be everything at once. you’ve got the old stuff mixed with the new, the tapas stands arguing about pricing with the fancier restaurants, and this weird energy where everyone’s either too loud or pretending not to notice you. i walked into a market and someone asked if i wanted to try this pan con tomate. i said yes, which was a mistake. it was great, but then they kept pushing it like it was a survival guide. i almost feel bad. or maybe not. maybe they’re onto something.

let me tell you about the neighborhood vibe. it’s like valencia decided to host a punk rock party and forgot to send out invites. you walk down one street and it’s all vintage shops selling things that look like they belong in a museum. next block and it’s a bunch of graffiti so chaotic it’s almost art. i swear i saw a kid spray-painting a pigeon mid-solo. or was it a cat? i can’t remember. that’s valencia. it doesn’t care about labels.

i tried to get to the beach yesterday and got lost for an hour. not in a cute way but in a ‘i asked three people for directions and they all gave me wrong info’ way. finally, a guy on a bike yelled at me in spanish and pointed. i followed him and ended up at this hidden cave thing. it wasn’t a beach. it was a cave. with a bar. the bar had.columns. like, actual columns. i drank a beer and stared at them for 20 minutes. existential moment.

here’s the deal: valencia’s neighborhoods are a maze. i’m still not sure which part is which. the app on my phone said i was in ‘la boqueria’ but i was actually three blocks over. i think. maybe. it’s confusing. but that’s part of the charm. you’re supposed to get lost. or at least pretend you’re supposed to get lost.


i took a bunch of photos. some bad, some okay. the first one is me holding a croissant like it’s the last one on earth. the second is a street performer playing a lute while a dog naps on a bench. the third is the sea-but not the sea you expect. it’s more like...a gray pool that occasionally gives you a skinny-dip. not romantic, just real.


speaking of weird things, i heard that the tapas place on carmen street has the best Paella but only if you ask in spanish. i tried. i got distracted by a guy selling CDs of cats barking. maybe that’s the real secret. maybe this city’s magic is in the randomness.

someone told me that the metro here runs on a schedule that changes weekly. i can’t confirm if that’s true or if that person was just high. but i did catch a train that went to a place called ‘la mayoría’ which is spanish for ‘the majority.’ it’s probably a joke. but then again, maybe not. valencia’s sense of humor is...unique.

if you get bored, middleton is just a short drive away. not middleton, like a place. middleton. it’s a village with a church that smells like old bread. i tried to find it twice and accidentally ended up in a farm. the farmer gave me a free orange. i’m not sure if that’s a omen or a scam. maybe both.

the reviews here are wild. i heard that the hotel on carmen street has ghosts. or maybe that’s just the old man who lives there playing chess every night. i don’t know. i didn’t stay there. i stayed in a screaming hostel where the owner kept yelling about ‘the east’ like it was a thing. turns out it’s just a direction.

i met a guy who sells sculptures made of old bike parts. he told me valencia is dying. i told him i don’t believe that. he said, ‘you won’t.' and then he handed me a keychain. i still have it. it’s a tiny bike wheel with abolt. it rusts. slowly.

valencia’s weather is a character. it’s not just hot. it’s not just cold. it’s like the city itself is undecided. one day it’s 18 degrees and feels like a soul-searching moment. the next day it’s 25 and you’re sweating through your shirt while eating a jamón. it’s balancing. or maybe it’s just tired.

i asked a local what the best thing to do was. he handed me a map and said, ‘find your own thing.’ i did. i found a mural of a giant tomato. it was awesome. it looked like valencia was trying to say, ‘hey, we’re a fruit city now.’ maybe that’s the point.

in the end, valencia didn’t impress me. it confused me. it made me want both more and less. i left with a suitcase of unknown memories and a stomach that still remembers the paella. next time, i’m bringing a comb.

links: check out tripadvisor for the best seafood spots. yelp has some underrated bars. and if you’re into weird history, localboards might have the answers.

You might also be interested in:

About the author: Topiclo Admin

Writing code, prose, and occasionally poetry.

Loading discussion...