Denia and everything after

I couldn't wait to leave for Denia last Thursday.  I didn't even want to go to class.  Fortunately, I didn't have to, because one of my teachers was sick all week, relieving me sixty percent of my weekly class.  Naturally, however, I had three classes on Thursday with the teacher who wasn't sick, so after a full day Thursday I dashed home to quickly pack my backpack and batten down my room's hatches for a weekend away.  Eighty minutes' hasty  work allowed me to get the bus station just in time to catch the three o'clock bus to Sevilla.

I arrived at the airport early, some two hours before my flight was scheduled to leave (which is actually when they tell you to get there, but seriously, who does that?).  I was flying with the winged bus that is RyanAir, and having had all too much experience with them in the past, I wanted to make sure every t was crossed and i was dotted (there's a 5 pound fine if they're not) before passing through security, the Point of No Return.  So I got my boarding pass stamped (if you pass through security without having done this, you are not permitted to fly, despite holding a perfectly good boarding pass and passport in your hand.  I speak from personal experience.), went through security without incident, and a few hours later, boarded my RyanAir Boeing 737-800 with service to Valencia.

The Home Backpackers Hostel, where I checked in to in Valencia, is the same hostel I stayed at the only other time I stayed in a hostel there--when RyanAir told me passport and boarding pass weren't enough for me to go to Rome.  It's a nice place--clean, cheap, comfortable, with all the amenities you expect from  a hostel (free wifi, towel provided) and some you don't (full kitchen and lounge).  I have a certain affinity for it because I was homeless and it took me in, so it felt good going back.  After checking in, I found my friend, who had arrived a few hours earlier, and we went out for tapas.  I had apples and hummus (take that, tradition tapas stereotypes!) and a glass of the house Bordeaux.  It was very enjoyable; to see my friend, to be back in la Comunidad Valenciana, and to be going to Denia the next day.

And go we did.  The 8:30 bus from Valencia landed us in Denia at 10:30, just in time for mid-morning coffee with our respective host families.  The weather was perfect; between 65 and 70 and brilliant sunny.  As I made the suddenly familiar walk to el piso de mis padres, at 5 Pintor Victoria, I couldn't keep a wide smile off my face.  My time studying in Spain had more than it's share of difficulty, but for none of that was Denia at fault.  I love Denia--adore it immeasurably--and if I found a job there, any job at all that could support me, I would be there in a heartbeat.  It has so much to offer: mountains on one side, Mediterranean to the other, excellent food, remarkable weather, the most fiestas of any city in Spain (true).

It also has Rosa and Lorenzo, who were waiting for me at the elevator door when I stepped out onto their--my--floor, setting the stage for a brief but joyous reunion.  Within minutes, I was inside and having coffee with Rosa, feeling like I'd never left.

(END Part 1)

It's getting late and I have to go to bed, but the second part of this post is coming tomorrow.  My headline-writing skills are probably a little rusty, but I'll attempt a teaser to the second part:

"Part two of Orlebeke's 'Denia and everything after' filled with food, fun"

Don't know if it's technically in AP style.  Stephen always knew that better than me.