Valencia For 91 Days

For 91 Days, we explored sunny Valencia, home of paella and the third-largest city in Spain. We already knew Valencia well… in fact it’s our adopted home, and the place we return to whenever we’re taking a break from traveling. Whether you’re planning your own journey to Valencia, or are just interested in seeing why we chose to make it our permanent base, our articles and photographs should help you out. Start at the beginning of our adventures, visit our comprehensive index to find something specific, or choose one of the articles selected at random, below:

There’s not a city in the world Jürgen and I know quite so well as Valencia. We lived here for years before starting our travel project, and should there ever come a day we’re ready to settle down, it’s to Valencia that we’ll return. We figured our favorite city on Earth deserved the full attention of our blog, so we spent 91 days seeing the sights as though we were newcomers.

The Feria de Julio has been celebrated in Valencia since 1871. With open-air cinema, concerts, fireworks and more, this month-long festival is an attempt to convince residents to remain in the city during the sweltering summer. The feria’s closing act is the Batalla de Flores, or the Flower Battle.

Valencians sure love their festivals. This might be a generally Spanish trait rather than one which is strictly Valencian, but once March rolls around, there’s another festival of some sort every weekend in this city. We have Fallas, wine and tapas festivals, Semana Santa, and various other religious festivals honoring a never-ending string of saints… and also, there’s a kite festival down at the beach.

Situated within the confines of a 16th-century monastery on the banks of the Turia riverbed, the San Pío Museum of Fine Arts is a treasure trove of medieval religious paintings, classic Valencian works, and masterpieces from the most famous of Spanish artists.



Throughout Fallas, the smell of smoke and gunpowder is unavoidable on the streets of Valencia, but another odor is almost as prominent: that of greasy, deep-fried goodness. On seemingly every other corner, there’s a stand selling buñuelos. A sweet, delicious, artery-clogging nightmare, buñuelos are Valencia’s favorite festival snack, and are even more sinful when dipped into cups of thick, rich, hot chocolate.

It’s the last Sunday of February. You’ve purposefully forgotten to set your alarm clock, hoping to luxuriate a few extra minutes in the deep sleep of early morning. As you nestle in your comforter, drowsy as can be, Valencia looks upon your resting figure with a smile. But it’s not a smile of maternal tenderness… in fact, it’s more of a smirk. And then the explosions start.

“Foc” is Valencian for “Fire,” but you’ll be forgiven for screaming out a similar-sounding English word while watching either the Cabalgata de Foc (Parade of Fire), or the Nit de Foc (Night of Fire). Because these events are foc-ing insane.