Valencia nearly didn’t happen.

Picture the scene. It’s Friday afternoon on a UK bank holiday weekend. The train to the airport suddenly stops because of a signalling problem.

At that point, my mind immediately jumped to the obvious question: if this train doesn’t move, what are the chances of finding a taxi and making it to Birmingham Airport in time?

Not likely.

Thankfully, the train eventually started moving again and I arrived at the airport to find a queue stretching almost out of the door.

My heart sank.

Fortunately, the queue moved surprisingly quickly and before long I was through security with just enough time to grab a drink, pull out my Kindle and enjoy a few peaceful pages before heading to the gate.

Or so I thought.

At the gate there were only four people waiting with less than thirty minutes until departure.

A woman nearby mentioned that on a previous trip she and her son had gone to the gate shown on the airport screen only to discover it had changed. They missed their flight entirely.

Suddenly those four people waiting didn’t seem quite so reassuring.

My anxiety level rose just a little.

Thankfully more passengers began to arrive, boarding started late and before long I was settled into my seat next to some genuinely lovely people.

Valencia was finally happening.

First Impressions

Arriving at Valencia Airport was surprisingly smooth.

I collected my Valencia Tourist Card, something I’ll talk more about later because, honestly, I wouldn’t recommend it for most visitors.

From the airport I booked a Cabify to Colo Colo Hostel in the Ruzafa neighbourhood, completed the self check-in, freshened up and headed straight back out.

Because let’s be honest.

A hungry traveller needs feeding.

That first evening was simple. A burger, a wander around the local area and then an early night ready for sunrise the next morning.

Watching Valencia Wake Up

The sunrise itself was a disappointment.

The clouds had other ideas.

But sometimes travel rewards you in unexpected ways.

The old town was almost empty. Streets that would later be packed with visitors belonged only to delivery drivers, early risers and locals starting their day.

There was something calming about wandering through Valencia before breakfast.

Shutters still closed.

Cafés setting out chairs.

The occasional cyclist gliding through quiet squares.

For a short while it felt like I had the city almost to myself.

Valencia Cathedral

One building that immediately stopped me in my tracks was Valencia Cathedral.

From the outside it’s impressive enough, but stepping inside reveals just how vast it really is.

Chapels branch off in every direction. Historic artefacts fill display cases. Paintings, sculptures and intricate details seem to appear wherever you look.

At times it felt more like wandering through a museum than visiting a cathedral.

I initially expected to spend twenty minutes inside.

More than an hour later, I was still discovering rooms I somehow hadn’t noticed before.

The cathedral seemed to unfold one space at a time, each revealing another piece of Valencia’s history.

Eventually I stepped back into the bright Valencian sunshine and made my way towards Mercado Central.

Waiting just a few streets away was another side of Valencia entirely.

Mercado Central – The Heart of Valencia

I’ve visited markets all over Europe.

Some are beautiful.

Some are historic.

Some are famous.

Mercado Central somehow manages to be all three.

Beneath its impressive roof, locals browsed fruit, vegetables, seafood, meats and cheeses while stallholders chatted with regular customers.

It felt authentic.

Not a market created for tourists, but one woven into daily life.

I picked up a few bits for the hostel fridge before discovering a lunch spot that would become one of the highlights of the trip.

Lunch at Central Bar

Right in the middle of the market sits Central Bar, created by Michelin-starred chef Ricard Camarena.

What surprised me wasn’t just how good the food was.

It was how affordable it felt.

For around €33 I enjoyed a glass of wine, three dishes and an Agua de Valencia.

The gilda packed a punch of flavour.

The warm pork croquetas were so good that, even now, they remain the benchmark against which every croqueta is judged.

Then came the bocadillo de sepia, a cuttlefish sandwich that managed to disappear embarrassingly quickly.

Surrounded by market traders, locals and visitors, it felt less like a restaurant experience and more like becoming part of the market itself for an hour or two.

New Friends and Evening Light

One thing I hadn’t expected from Valencia was how quickly complete strangers would become part of the story.

Back at the hostel I met another traveller visiting on business.

A glass of wine turned into conversation.

Conversation turned into an evening walk.

Before long we found ourselves standing amongst the reflections and futuristic curves of the City of Arts and Sciences.

The white buildings glowed against the darkening sky while photographers dotted the walkways searching for the perfect angle.

It’s easy to understand why this place appears on almost every Valencia itinerary.

After sunset it feels more like a film set than a museum complex.

The Day Everything Got Soaked

Some travel memories are carefully planned.

Others happen because the weather has completely different ideas.

I had booked a waterfall excursion, only for a city marathon to block access to the waterfalls themselves.

Instead, our group headed towards the natural springs.

Then the rain arrived.

Not gentle rain.

The sort that leaves you soaked within minutes.

Most people sensibly looked for shelter.

A few of us looked at each other and decided there wasn’t much point.

I already had spare clothes and a towel in my bag.

Why not?

After standing in the rain, stepping into the 24°C spring water felt incredible.

Like lowering yourself into a giant outdoor bath while mountain scenery unfolded around you.

Eventually the clouds lifted.

The views opened up.

The mountains reappeared.

And somehow a day that looked destined to be a complete write-off became one of the stories I ended up telling most when I returned home.

A Peaceful Morning in Port Saplaya

The following morning I headed to Port Saplaya.

No schedule.

No tour.

No plans.

Just coffee.

A fisherman quietly working nearby.

Locals beginning their day.

Boats gently rocking in the marina.

Looking back, this was probably the moment where Valencia slowed down and truly clicked for me.

No famous attraction.

No ticket required.

Just the simple pleasure of sitting still and watching the world wake up around me.

A Sunset Tour for One

That evening brought another surprise.

I had booked a sunset experience in Albufera.

Everyone else cancelled.

The result?

A personal guide.

As we explored the wetlands and later boarded the boat, I spent most of the evening behind the camera.

At one point I ended up taking photographs for several couples and briefly felt like I’d accidentally become the trip photographer.

Between the still water, the golden evening light and the unexpected one-to-one experience, it felt like one of those travel moments that simply can’t be planned.

Those are usually the ones that stay with you longest.

Hostel Life

I’ve stayed in plenty of hostels over the years.

Colo Colo was one of the best.

The facilities were spotless, the beds were comfortable and the atmosphere struck a rare balance.

There were younger travellers.

People around my age.

Older guests too.

Everyone seemed welcome.

Solo travel can sometimes feel lonely.

Valencia never did.

Between conversations in the hostel kitchen, shared meals, evening walks and group nights out, it quickly felt like a small travelling community.

One evening we all headed out together and had a brilliant night.

The following morning was slightly less brilliant.

But that’s all part of the experience.

There was also the moment I accidentally locked my phone inside a locker after changing the code.

Let’s just say there was a brief period where I questioned my life choices.

A useful tip for anyone staying there – if you accidentally change your locker code, reception can reset it for you.

Thankfully.

The Things I Didn’t Love

No trip is perfect.

The Valencia Tourist Card wasn’t worth it for me.

Although I received discounts on a few attractions, I simply didn’t use enough public transport to justify the cost.

One morning I waited nearly an hour for a bus after three failed to appear before eventually deciding to walk instead.

Looking back, Valencia is often best explored on foot anyway.

The city feels safe, walkable and full of interesting streets that reward wandering.

The Journey Home

Even leaving Valencia came with drama.

Airport security was extremely busy and for a moment I genuinely thought I might miss my flight.

Thankfully a member of staff overheard my situation and kindly moved me to the front of a queue.

A small act of kindness that saved the day.

I finally boarded the plane, sat down, relaxed…

…and immediately realised I’d left my Kindle in the hostel bed.

That hurt.

A lot.

Final Thoughts

Valencia quietly worked its way under my skin.

The food was exceptional.

The people were welcoming.

The city felt safe.

The cafés were perfect for sitting and watching the world go by.

The architecture ranged from historic cathedrals to futuristic museums.

And despite spending four days there, I still left with a list of places I wanted to visit.

I never properly explored all of Ruzafa.

There were restaurants I still wanted to try.

Museums I never had time to visit.

Streets I wanted to wander again.

Valencia wasn’t long enough.

I barely scratched the surface.

Four days gave me a taste of the city, but nowhere near enough time to experience everything it has to offer.

For me, that’s usually the sign of somewhere special.

You don’t leave feeling finished.

You leave already planning your return.Valencia quietly worked its way under my skin.

The food was exceptional.

The people were welcoming.

The city felt safe.

The cafés were perfect for sitting and watching the world go by.

The architecture ranged from historic cathedrals to futuristic museums.

And despite spending four days there, I still left with a list of places I wanted to visit.

I never properly explored all of Ruzafa.

There were restaurants I still wanted to try.

Museums I never had time to visit.

Streets I wanted to wander again.

Valencia wasn’t long enough.

I barely scratched the surface.

Four days gave me a taste of the city, but nowhere near enough time to experience everything it has to offer.

For me, that’s usually the sign of somewhere special.

You don’t leave feeling finished.

You leave already planning your return.