Cabaret (Valencia)

A life travel lesson, dear reader. Don't hire a car and stay in hotels in the cities. Parking per night in the hotels of Spain starts around €25. That could pay for a lot of taxis, not to mention the reduced stress of being on a train or coach and not having to battle the traffic, driving on the other side of the road. I hired a car this time because I felt we missed getting out to the country in Tuscany when we were in Florence years ago. That said, Hurricane Gabrielle certainly made her presence felt and the train we would have caught from Sitges to Valencia would have certainly been cancelled, if not significantly delayed. Still, my current belief is hire a car when necessary for day trips.

The day dawned with Gabrielle still hanging around. The rain was strong at various stages overnight and there were some major episodes with lightning. We slept late without an alarm for the first time in a week. Bliss. We wandered down to breakfast around 10am to discover The Level has a separate dining area where you can order food beyond the buffet offering. Nice. Jayne opted for an omelette and I had Iberico ham, accompanied with bread and a tomato mix - definitely not Catalan tomato bread as we are no longer in Catalonia. However, once the tomato was spread on the bread, if the light was right and you squinted, it looked like Catalan tomato bread.

Yum.

We also had a double espresso, twice. Morning coffee. Yes. There were also the buffet offerings, fresh fruit, breads, pastries and the like. The staff were lovely and it was a delightful way to commence another rainy day.

Back in our room, we pondered what might be possible while looking out the window at the clouds. Once we had made the decision to venture out, the skies opened up again and kept us firmly indoors. Perhaps the weather was forcing us to do something our bodies required, after six weeks of travelling; rest. Message received. We gave up any attempt to leave the hotel and went downstairs to sit in the massive bustling lobby area for a people watching session.

There was a young man in soccer kit, sorry, football kit, standing outside the doors of the hotel, waving his flag while being filmed. Eventually he came inside and sat, waiting, patiently, flag draped across his knees. And nothing happened. I Googled the flag and his colours to discover he was a Real Oviedo supporter. The game was scheduled for yesterday but was postponed because of the horrendous weather. The good news is that he may not have been able to see his idols, but they beat Valencia 2-1.

This is near our hotel. I have no idea.

We whiled the day away in our room or on the 26th floor in The Level lounge until it was time for dinner and the rain had ceased. The time was not misspent, dear reader, as we researched places for dinner. Deciding Tapas was not required, we settled on one of the pizza places nearby. While the overwhelming number of reviews were positive, there were many that were negative. almost all of them focussed on service or the attitude of the wait staff. Too interesting not to explore, I booked.

In a fascinating turn of events, we scored dinner and a show, a Cabaret, the clear link to today's title. Also, both ends of the review spectrum were accurate, although I feel the one star people were a little precious. We had a great night.

The restaurant is Il Cortile and they are a chain, sort of. They have a number of locations throughout Valencia and purport to uphold Italian values in the craft. You can decide what that means.

We made a reservation for 7:30pm and arrived at 7:35. The waiter in the green shirt appeared very grumpy. He was busy attending to a table of 6, the only other patrons. Eventually he acknowledged our existence with a head nod. We waited. He came over and I informed him we had a reservation and we were pointed to a table. He returned to the other patrons. Finally he walked past and threw two menus onto the tabletop.

Ten minutes later, he returned, took our order and we requested the wine list which was also thrown onto the table. The wine arrived and we poured a glass and then the floor show began. A table of Americans who had walked in after us decided this was the wrong pizza place and departed. Green shirt man remonstrated with another patron, waiting for take-away and we watched everything happening.

A random flower to break up the text.

Then Jayne noticed some action outside. A parking dispute. Sorry, no pictures. A man, also in a green shirt, (it must make you angry), was gesticulating wildly at the driver of another car who was parked. He got out of his car and went to the window of the parked car, arms flailing like a windmill in a hurricane, presumably expressing his unhappiness with the theft of his car spot. The other car did not give ground. He stormed back to his double-parked car and reversed it so as to block the other from moving and then put on his hazard lights.

The driver of the correctly parked car got out and came inside Il Cortile. Her partner was at the counter waiting to order, but green-shirt waiter was yet to engage with him. He provided solace to his upset wife/girlfriend until the door opened and green-shirt driver stormed in, still with arms waving and the argument recommenced. The couple then placed their order and sat at the side counter with a beer. Green-shirt driver placed his order and stayed at the main counter, also with beer in hand. Stalemate.

Our food arrived and we tucked in keeping a close eye on proceedings. The couple left the restaurant without food and before green-shirt driver who had parked them in. We're not sure where they went. A short time later, he left with his two takeaway pizzas and disappeared into the night.

Lantana grows everywhere. It's a weed at home.

While all this excitement was happening, green-shirt waiter's demeanour had improved when additional staff arrived to share the 'load'. He decided we were OK. We scored a smile and Jayne got a hand on the shoulder. She was then invited over to the bar counter where there was a digital clock, mounted on the wall, showing 10:00 with the word 'gratis' underneath. When we first came in, we had assumed that the 10 referred to a promise that if you had to wait longer than 10 minutes, you would get your takeaway pizza for free. No - there was a red button on the bar top and the waiter indicated to her to push it to start the countdown from 10:00. If she could push the button to stop the clock at 7:00, our dinner would be for free.

After 2 failed attempts, he laughed heartily and patted Jayne on the shoulder once again. Clearly we were now family - no one else had been invited to stop the clock. He was even happier when I paid cash and gave him a small tip. 

Surely he must own the place, otherwise why would any employer keep someone at front of house if they were damaging your reputation. I can understand they would not be keen on tourists and they don't need to be. The area is mostly high-rise residential with restaurants and other commercial premises occupying the ground floor. The take away trade was brisk - the pizzas were excellent and the restaurant itself kept filling till there were very few vacant tables. 

Anyway, after dinner and the show, we walked back to our hotel, happy that the weather forecast promised a return to sunshine so we would finally be able to explore Valencia's old town.

Until tomorrow.