Days of Rest

The plan was to rest. The plan was to write and catch up on the blog. The plan was to go to the beach as much as possible. The plan was to eat well. I can report that I did three out of the four pretty well. The one thing I didn’t do much is go to the beach because the weather gods were not happy with this part of the world and sent us winds, rain, an occasional thunderstorm, and clouds, lots and lots of clouds.

I wasn’t too upset about the thunderstorm, to be honest. I have now experienced one in Barcelona, one in the port area of València, a couple in Ciutat Vella, and now here in Dénia so I guess I’m batting 1.000 when it comes to thunderstorms. After living in Victoria for 14 years and experiencing exactly two, hearing and seeing them so regularly is absolutely awesome. All the cool and unpleasant days, however, have not been much fun. Granted, I was able to get quite a bit of work done on the blog, but I also watched a stupid amount of tennis. The good (and bad) thing about having Amazon Prime and a VPN is that I get to see almost every ATP tournament there is and many WTA ones as well. I now have many favourite male players and I’m starting to become familiar with some of the women as well. For many years the only women’s matches I got to watch were at the Grand Slams so other than some of the older top players the women’s ranks have been a mystery to me. That’s now changing.

I also planned to eat well and I did. I didn’t go out as often as I could opting to cook at home frequently. But when I did go out, I was able to find some pretty good places. There was the Chinese take out I tried early on (very good hot and sour soup for which I’ve had a craving forever), a tasty daily menu at Ticino, the amazing cigalas (crayfish) at Els Magazinos, a typical menú at Ave Loreto restaurant, and, the crowning glory, another tasting menu from el Baret de Miquel, this time as take-out. The crayfish I ordered not knowing what they were first. When I finally got to Els Magazinos after one of my waterfront walks, I had a fun exchange with the waiter who already remembered me from a previous visit when I had ordered a clara and he misheard me bringing me a water. We had a good laugh about that and this time I made sure he got my drink right on the first try. I was also a bit hungry and I asked for a recommendation to which he suggested cigalas because they were super fresh, straight from the boat. Instead of telling me what they are, the waiter offered that if I don’t like them, he will be happy to pay my bill. How could I refuse such an offer? Long story short, they were amazing, and I happily paid my own bill.

The meal from el Baret de Miquel I was also very excited about so I ordered it the day before, not knowing it was going to rain then. I also timed it with my shopping for groceries thinking I’ll be able to bring everything together in bags no problem. To my chagrin, the shopping was relatively heavy, the umbrella small, and the scrumptious meal-in-a-box was, well, in a huge box! One I couldn’t put into the bag I brought specifically for it. Imagine me, walking back about a kilometre to the house, laden with groceries in one hand, trying to balance a large box that shouldn’t be tipped in the other, all while balancing an umbrella, in the pouring rain. They make episodes of comedy series of situations like this, don’t they? No? Well, they should. (There were more dishes than those below but, in my haste, I obviously didn’t photograph them all. I also mislaid the piece of paper with the list of the dishes, sorry.)

[Best_Wordpress_Gallery id=”329″ gal_title=”Baret de Miquel II”]

Eating wasn’t the only thing I did. I also went to see a jazz concert after, totally by chance, I happened to look at the Dénia events page and there was a performance that very evening. I quickly bought a ticket and when the time came, set out to find the municipal music hall. The band was called Enric Peidro Quartet and played many great jazz classics and a few of their own pieces, all of it very well. Before coming here I had dreamt of spending time in little (no longer smokey since smoking is banned in such establishment in Spain now) jazz bars, discovering artists and hearing not only my faves but also real live jam sessions … alas, Covid nixed that idea, so this concert was as close as I got to that dream-like experience.

I didn’t spend all my time indoors, don’t worry. There were days when it was sunny and almost warm so I would go down to my favourite bench just in front of the marina and next to the little kiosks that normally sell various things such as jewelry, toys, clothing, and touristy trinkets. I’d sit there and read, frequently spying on the folks coming off the ferry to the Balearic Islands (the foot passengers had to walk past me). There were also times, often in the middle of the afternoon, when I was the only person there, everyone else safely home siesta-ing … I can’t help that this is the time I want to be outside, can I? This location was also the perfect place from which I could do a bit dog-spotting, and just look who walked by me again!

Contrary to my moaning about not going to the beach earlier, I did get to go, but only twice. It wasn’t until my last week here that the weather warmed up enough to brave the elements and spend a few hours basking in the sun. It was glorious, I admit. I had had my toes done in anticipation of improved temperatures so I was ready.

The one last thing I did, shortly before leaving was have a Canadian-style brunch at the place next to the house. I had looked at their menu a few times as I walked by, but it never felt like the type of place I wanted to frequent, to be honest. It seemed geared towards foreign residents (the term “expat” is one I’m thinking of and a very specific type of foreigner they are, as well), and I tend to stay away from those. But, one day, as I looked out of my little balcony while hanging up laundry to dry, I spotted the very same black Great Dane I had seen around town before. We had made our acquaintance before but I had no idea he was the resident doggo of the restaurant, right under my nose! Spending time with him was the underlying motive for my visit to this establishment, I will not lie. I went there to have an Eggs Benedict (a craving for something familiar was starting to kick in) and it was OK. Just OK. What was great was meeting Prince. He is a huge lovebug, as most Danes are, and I was very happy to spend a little time with him. I never went back to Movida Dénia (the restaurant) to eat, but I did stop by and say ‘hi’ to Prince every chance I could.

All in all, I enjoyed my time in Dénia, the yucky weather notwithstanding. I think it’s a very nice place to retire, it isn’t overrun with tourists and “expats” but there is definitely a specific demographic that makes its home here: older, most likely retired couples with money. I suspect that for a single woman, finding friends here would not be an easy task, unless I was lucky to meet some locals or long-term residents who were into activities I also enjoyed. It is, however, a great place to come for weekends from València or even spend a week or two enjoying the beach. Or, even better, visit a friend with a boat, though that one would be tricky until I actually met such a friend. I do think my parents would enjoy living here, maybe six months a year? It would sure beat Vancouver winters, that’s for sure.