Valencia

All Poems, Natural Beauty, Pleasure, Spain, Trees, Trips and Places, Valencia

Moreton Bay Fig Trees

Posted on

 

I long for walks in Parterre, Glorieta Parks.

Where each morning, I gaze at Moreton Bay Figs.

Trunks, living sculptures.

Rooted in the ground.

Sometimes, undulating waves.

Other times, colossal legs of prehistoric giants.

Ready to lift massive feet, lumber forward.

Shake sprawling green canopies.

Brandish beard-like epiphytes.

In another season, likely drop fruits.

But in January, looking like they want to hold you.

In sinewy craters.

Take you in, embrace you.

Arouse you with majesty, magic.

Setting off ripples of thought.

Making easy, ruminations

to record on pocket papers.

Mysterious inspirations.

 

Lynn Benjamin

February 12, 2024

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

All Poems, Memories, Spain, Trips and Places, Valencia

Drying Rack

Posted on

 

We used a drying rack first in Amsterdam.

When the apartment only had a washer/dryer combination.

Which would take hours to dry clothes.

Hence, the rack.

Also, taking hours, but easier to use.

Not requiring electricity.

Or figuring out hieroglyphics on the knobs.

Again, in Valencia, we had a combined washer/dryer.

The proprietress recommended using the line.

Outside over the courtyard.

That’s what the Spanish do, she said.

But, our preference, the drying rack.

Which we decorated with socks, shirts, underwear.

Orange towels, sheets.

Numerous times.

Not minding the overnight they took to dry.

Once home, our wash tumbled, spilled out of suitcases.

In colorful confusion.

We used the dryer for jeans and tees.

But, we, too, own a drying rack.

Bought after the Amsterdam trip.

So, we pulled it out.

For accessories like gloves, scarves, hats.

Another reminder, though small, of our month

in Valencia on the coast of Spain.

A most simple way to remember our time.

Summon both of us down memory lane.

 

Lynn Benjamin

February 9, 2024

All Poems, Farewell, Spain, Trips and Places, Valencia

Plaza de la Reina

Posted on

 

Can only a month in a place feel like home?

Our apartment was around the corner from Plaza de la Reina.

Named for the first wife of King Alfonso XII.

Renovated over three centuries.

Nineteenth, twentieth, twenty-first.

Most recently, to make it pedestrian.

Despite cars entering, exiting from an underground garage.

Delivery trucks, cleaning crews, scooters and bikes.

All adding to the animation of the square.

Lined with shops, eateries.

Dotted with palm tree gardens, flowers.

Where you can rely on pop-up entertainment.

Pianists, fire performers, singers.

On Sundays, traditional dancing.

Women and men in regional garb.

Or at Christmas, an additional two dozen craft kiosks.

This plaza is the go-to place.

For chocolates and churros.

A quick coffee or tapa.

Ice cream in a cone.

It’s nestled against the Cathedral of Valencia.

Whose bells chime on the hour.

Sending down sacred sounds.

Can only a month in a place feel like home?

Well, I tramped that plaza a dozen times each day.

Disposing of waste in receptacles on both sides of the square.

Glass, paper, containers, organics, remains.

Or, coming in, going out through one of the many streets.

Radiating from it like arms of an octopus.

So, when you return from anywhere, you’re there.

On one side of it or the other.

Then, only a minute from the apartment on Luis Vives.

Can only a month in a place feel like home?

Well, when there’s a plaza to receive,

invite you to mingle with your neighbors,

it warms your heart, makes it hard to leave.

 

Lynn Benjamin

February 8, 2024

 

 

 

All Poems, Farewell, Spain, Trips and Places, Valencia

Last Morning in Valencia

Posted on

 

I roamed plazas, streets on the last morning in Valencia.

By the light of a half moon.

And electric lamps that lit the way.

Across Plaza de la Reina.

To La Virgen.

To see the Statue of El Turia once more.

Then back to Calle de La Paz.

Parque Parterre, Glorieta.

One more foray along my route.

Before return to 4 Luis Vives.

To gather bags.

Return keys.

Take leave of María, the propietaria.

Settle in with Bob in a taxi.

Toward the airport.

For a day in Madrid.

A small dessert

post Valencian repast.

To consolidate memories,

store, protect them, make them last.

 

Lynn Benjamin

February 4, 2024

All Poems, Art/Arts, Museums, Spain, Trips and Places, Valencia

Lladró Museum

Posted on

 

Our son and granddaughter bade adieu.

After four days of running hither, yon.

Leaving us to organize our last four days in Valencia.

My curiosity got the better of me.

Urging me to check out the Lladró Museum.

In Tavernes Blanques, a town outside Valencia.

Where Lladró porcelain is made.

Since Bob and I, heirs to many figurines.

Brought home as gifts from Spain for parents.

Now sitting in our china cabinet.

So, we decided to walk the hour’s journey.

Past city limits through vegetable fields.

To the museum in the town.

Arriving unannounced.

The workshop, where they manufacture, closed.

We proceeded to the exhibition hall.

Quiet, not a visitor in sight.

Where a soft-spoken woman offered water.

Took us on a tour of various rooms.

Telling us Lladró had evolved.

To making elaborate utilitarian products.

Costly chandeliers, candle holders, jewelry.

As well as intricate mammoth pieces.

A carnival in Venice.

Asian, mythological scenes.

Disney characters, parrots.

Traditional Spanish icons.

It was plain to see that Lladró marched forward.

But, there was no historical timeline posted.

No indication of changes through decades.

How it started, developed.

Interacted with the marketplace.

So although the pieces, ornate, embellished,

by theme, grouped in a salon,

it deeply disappointed us.

Not a word of days bygone.

 

Lynn Benjamin

February 4, 2024

All Poems, Art/Arts, Museums, Spain, Trips and Places, Valencia

Second to Last Day in Valencia

Posted on

 

Time continued to contract.

Giving us two days to see the yet unseen.

So off to the Plaza del Ayuntamiento we went.

To tour the grand City Hall.

Built by Francisco Mora Berenguer.

Grand ball rooms, twin staircases, clock tower.

Facing a pedestrian square.

A dozen flower stalls.

Perfuming the whole area.

Then down to the basement.

To experience tunnels where citizens fled.

During the Civil War.

When Franco bombarded the city.

Noting a statue in homage to La Dama de Elche.

Symbol of the Valencian woman.

From there to the House/Museum of Benlliure.

Valencian artist.

Friend of Joaquín Sorolla.

Who taught José Benlliure’s son, Peppino.

An artist in his own right.

Whose works also grace the house.

Along with sculptures by José’s brother, Mariano.

The exhibit featuring art work, furniture.

Memorabilia from the turn of the twentieth century.

José Benlliure’s painting studio.

A temporary display of Sorolla’s depictions of Valencia.

And a magnificent garden.

Palm trees, pergolas, plants.

Colorful tiles of typical Valencian scenes.

Religious processions.

As well as an outdoor tiled kitchen.

Rivaling the one in the Porcelain Museum.

We felt full as we exited the house.

As if digesting a satisfying meal.

Strolling through Turia Park.

Talking about José Benlliure.

His thirty-year sojourn in Italy.

Loss of his talented son.

Before he could realize his potential.

Rooms dedicated to his pieces.

The incredible skill of Mariano.

Painter and renowned sculptor.

Give thanks to María Benlliure.

José’s daughter, thoughtful, kind.

Donating dwelling and gardens.

Priceless gift to leave behind.

 

Lynn Benjamin

February 4, 2024

 

All Poems, Museums, Spain, Trips and Places, Valencia

History of Valencia

Posted on

 

Valencia is a city full of history.

She has museums to document it.

The Museum of Archeology takes you underground.

To the Almoina neighborhood.

To Roman ruins.

The forum, baths, streets.

Storage center for grains.

Factories for oil, wine, garum.

To a wall of the Moorish Alcázar.

To Visigothic tombs.

To a Christian charitable institution.

While the Museum of the History of Valencia intrigues.

Housed in the city’s water reservoir from 1850.

Taking the visitor through twenty-two centuries.

Up to the restoration of the Spanish Republic.

Stories of multiple civilizations.

One atop the last.

But, also narratives of wars, plagues, cruelties.

Hardship, poverty, intolerance.

Natural disasters, catastrophes.

Though Valencia’s history amazing,

suffering, pain profound.

Look underneath the facts.

Sadness, grief abound.

 

Lynn Benjamin

February 3, 2024

 

 

 

All Poems, Farewell, Museums, Spain, Trips and Places, Valencia

How Do You Say Goodbye to A City?

Posted on

 

How do you say goodbye to a city?

Where you have lived for a month?

Learning new customs?

History, words?

Where you have hosted friends? Family?

Do you traverse the known?

Or seek the new?

On this last day, we chose new.

A visit to Palacio de la Generalitat.

To see Gothic architecture.

Gilded wooden ceilings, tile displays.

Portraits of Spanish kings.

From Jaime I to Alfonso XIII.

Find ourselves surprised.

When the President and Vice President marched in.

Spoke to the crowd.

Departed to go about their work.

We cabbed to the House/Museum of Blasco Ibañez.

On Malvarrosa Beach.

Next door to Casa Carmela.

A restaurant we ate at three times.

The house was Ibañez’s vacation home.

Containing photos, his desk, a history of his life.

Author, politician, traveler, family man.

Friend to other luminaries of his day.

Writer who taught me about the Albufera.

In Cañas y Barro.

From there, it was an easy march to the sea walk.

To promenade in the Mediterranean sun till comida.

Eat paella by the shore.

How do you say goodbye?

To a city baring her heart?

To cuisine, history, literature,

centuries of masters, their art?

 

Lynn Benjamin

February 4, 2024

All Poems, Family, For Children, Grandchildren, People Traits, Spain, Trips and Places, Valencia

I Learn by Watching

Posted on

 

I learn by watching, announced Katusha.

Her large brown, nine-year-old eyes scanning.

Rooms, plazas, parks, shops.

Indeed, she does.

Observing polite gestures in restaurants.

Greetings to people on the street.

Purchases of entrance tickets.

How to work elevators.

Or spot bats, the city’s symbol, on sewer covers, statues.

And she learns by asking questions.

Why do people ruin walls by writing on them?

Why do so many people smoke?

Why do people beg for money?

There is so much to learn.

But, Katusha exhibits a flair

for observations, questioning,

discovering, becoming aware.

 

Lynn Benjamin

February 3, 2024

All Poems, Animals/Insects, Museums, Spain, Trips and Places, Valencia

Oceanogràfic

Posted on

 

Valencia’s Oceanogràfic tempted us since arriving.

Calatrava’s futuristic architecture beckoned.

But we stood firm.

Waited till our son and granddaughter would arrive.

Knowing Katusha would love diverse aquatic fauna.

Mediterranean turtles.

Sea lions, flamingoes.

Dolphins, beluga whales.

Sharks, crocodiles.

Penguins, tortoises.

She would love wandering through tunnels.

Watch fish swimming above, to our sides.

Giving us the illusion of being part of the habitat.

Experiences we wanted her to have.

Though expensive to get inside.

So, when we spotted pigeons in flocks on rocks.

In aquatic wetlands.

The sight piqued some envy.

For they could visit anytime

by gliding over walls.

Enjoy the park’s unique design

bypassing ticket stalls.

 

Lynn Benjamin

February 2, 2024