It’s 5:30 PM and I have just the time to publish this entry, then I gotta go to the station to take the bus to Montpellier, France.
Today I started my flash visit through Valencia at midday, as usual walking randomly after taking a look at the map to spot the main direction: Barrio del Carmen, City of Arts and Science, harbour, beach. Everything was ok.
Then, since a storm was coming and I had already walked for a lot of time, I decided to go back to the hostel to have a little bit of time to rest before leaving, and the fastest way to go was west, straight west.
Two blocks after the beach I saw I was going into a rough part of the city , with old houses etc., but I was actually happy because I like taking photos in such environments. But the more I walked, the rougher got the zone, until the moment I realised I was in the middle of the gipsy area . Street after street people discussing, then quarrelling (“I told you I didn’t wanna see you around here anymore, this is MY street!”), then almost fighting. I was expecting to hear some gunshots as in the meantime I was telling myself that in one block it should all have been over, since that was the way to the city centre. But a couple of blocks later it still wasn’t over, and even though my postal code is not the 90210 of Beverly Hills , I started feeling on sight like every alone and not-gipsy face could have felt in such a situation. The antidote: since I thought it could have been too cool but too dangerous, I put my camera in my pocket, then black shades on, bold face and straight ahead without stopping to have a look at the map, ‘cause I would have been like a public announcement: “I’m a lost tourist, alone and with camera, cellphone –please, not again- and Euros in my wallet: the easiest prey ever, rob me!”. A minute later, on the other side of the street a drug addicted holding a can with his 2-fingered right hand told me to stop with his other hand, and there I was cold-blooded outside, but ready to emulate Usain Bolt (Van Damme next time) in case of need.
Countdown: 3, 2, 1 . Nothing, after making a couple of steps towards me, he went the other direction.
I walked more less 2 kilometres ahead, ate something in a safe zone and then got on the bus to the hostel. Now it’s time to eat something again and go to the station. Tomorrow I get to Montpellier at 6:30 AM and I’ll have to wait for my host until 9 PM.
Danger is my business.
----------------------------------------------------
17:30 and I have just enough time to publish this post, then I have to go to the station to catch the bus to Montpellier.
Today I started with my lightning visit to Valencia at noon, as always walking the case after giving a glance at the map to find the main direction to follow: Barrio del Carmen, City of Arts and Sciences, harbor, beach . Everything ok.
Then, as a storm coming and had already walked a lot, I decided to walk back to the hostel to rest for a minute pre-departure and quickest way to get there was to point to the west, straight across to west. Two blocks after
the beach I realized that I had penetrated a quarter of those abandoned, with old houses and so on. but I was also glad I finished it to take pictures in areas like this is something I like. But the more I walked, the area became worse, until I realized to be in the middle of gypsy quarter. Street after street people arguing and then arguing that ("I told you that you do not want to see more around here, this is my way!") And then almost started to beating each other. I expected to hear from any shot at any moment and I said to myself that within a block would have been out, because after all I was moving toward the center. But a couple of blocks after that was inside, and although the CPC is not the home of Beverly Hills 90210 , I began to feel like everyone in the viewfinder alone and without gypsy face would feel. Antidote: I think, yes, it would be cool, but also something of a risk, I put the camera away after dark glasses on, bold face and pulls Direct, "without stopping to look at the map, which would like to make an announcement like "I'm a tourist lost, alone and with a camera, cell phone-please, once again no, eh ... - is a bit of Euro in the portfolio. An easy prey: derubatemi. " One minute later, across the street from a drug addict that with only two fingers of his right hand holding a can, with his good hand beckoned me to stop here and I was cold outside, but inside is ready to emulate Usain Bolt if necessary (Van Damme again).
Countdown: 3, 2, 1 . Nothing, after a few steps towards me has changed direction.
I walked 2 km more or less still, eating something quiet and then taking the bus to return to the hostel. Now I eat something and go to the station. Tomorrow at 6:30 arrival at Montpellier and I'll have to wait until 21 per la persona che mi ospiterà.
Il pericolo è il mio mestiere.
.
Today I started my flash visit through Valencia at midday, as usual walking randomly after taking a look at the map to spot the main direction: Barrio del Carmen, City of Arts and Science, harbour, beach. Everything was ok.
Then, since a storm was coming and I had already walked for a lot of time, I decided to go back to the hostel to have a little bit of time to rest before leaving, and the fastest way to go was west, straight west.
Two blocks after the beach I saw I was going into a rough part of the city , with old houses etc., but I was actually happy because I like taking photos in such environments. But the more I walked, the rougher got the zone, until the moment I realised I was in the middle of the gipsy area . Street after street people discussing, then quarrelling (“I told you I didn’t wanna see you around here anymore, this is MY street!”), then almost fighting. I was expecting to hear some gunshots as in the meantime I was telling myself that in one block it should all have been over, since that was the way to the city centre. But a couple of blocks later it still wasn’t over, and even though my postal code is not the 90210 of Beverly Hills , I started feeling on sight like every alone and not-gipsy face could have felt in such a situation. The antidote: since I thought it could have been too cool but too dangerous, I put my camera in my pocket, then black shades on, bold face and straight ahead without stopping to have a look at the map, ‘cause I would have been like a public announcement: “I’m a lost tourist, alone and with camera, cellphone –please, not again- and Euros in my wallet: the easiest prey ever, rob me!”. A minute later, on the other side of the street a drug addicted holding a can with his 2-fingered right hand told me to stop with his other hand, and there I was cold-blooded outside, but ready to emulate Usain Bolt (Van Damme next time) in case of need.
Countdown: 3, 2, 1 . Nothing, after making a couple of steps towards me, he went the other direction.
I walked more less 2 kilometres ahead, ate something in a safe zone and then got on the bus to the hostel. Now it’s time to eat something again and go to the station. Tomorrow I get to Montpellier at 6:30 AM and I’ll have to wait for my host until 9 PM.
Danger is my business.
----------------------------------------------------
17:30 and I have just enough time to publish this post, then I have to go to the station to catch the bus to Montpellier.
Today I started with my lightning visit to Valencia at noon, as always walking the case after giving a glance at the map to find the main direction to follow: Barrio del Carmen, City of Arts and Sciences, harbor, beach . Everything ok.
Then, as a storm coming and had already walked a lot, I decided to walk back to the hostel to rest for a minute pre-departure and quickest way to get there was to point to the west, straight across to west. Two blocks after
the beach I realized that I had penetrated a quarter of those abandoned, with old houses and so on. but I was also glad I finished it to take pictures in areas like this is something I like. But the more I walked, the area became worse, until I realized to be in the middle of gypsy quarter. Street after street people arguing and then arguing that ("I told you that you do not want to see more around here, this is my way!") And then almost started to beating each other. I expected to hear from any shot at any moment and I said to myself that within a block would have been out, because after all I was moving toward the center. But a couple of blocks after that was inside, and although the CPC is not the home of Beverly Hills 90210 , I began to feel like everyone in the viewfinder alone and without gypsy face would feel. Antidote: I think, yes, it would be cool, but also something of a risk, I put the camera away after dark glasses on, bold face and pulls Direct, "without stopping to look at the map, which would like to make an announcement like "I'm a tourist lost, alone and with a camera, cell phone-please, once again no, eh ... - is a bit of Euro in the portfolio. An easy prey: derubatemi. " One minute later, across the street from a drug addict that with only two fingers of his right hand holding a can, with his good hand beckoned me to stop here and I was cold outside, but inside is ready to emulate Usain Bolt if necessary (Van Damme again).
Countdown: 3, 2, 1 . Nothing, after a few steps towards me has changed direction.
I walked 2 km more or less still, eating something quiet and then taking the bus to return to the hostel. Now I eat something and go to the station. Tomorrow at 6:30 arrival at Montpellier and I'll have to wait until 21 per la persona che mi ospiterà.
Il pericolo è il mio mestiere.
.
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