So , here is the story is about how I came to find myself in Valencia. Most of it is, as with a lot of things, a strange set of circumstances that could have resulted in my being anywhere, but actually, fortuitously, found me here. She had gone straight into a job after graduating and was watching her tight knit group of girls in Bali, Thailand, Australia, and Dubai. She soon got a sabbatical from work and with her soon to be ex boyfriend, flew to Madrid with high expectations!
That really should have been the hint, the clue, that neither of my girls were ever going to stay in the UK. Even my youngest had grabbed herself a Spanish boyfriend while on school exchange, with whom she had been conducting a long distance relationship since she was Because of her age and the need to chaperone when visiting him and his family in Leon we got to see parts of Spain we would never have.
His parents were welcoming, Mama spoke a very little English, Papa not a word, which was tricky as we were invited to family dinners. When the boyfriend went to study medicine at Salamanca, as his Father and his Grandfather had before him, we visited there too and were amazed at the beauty of the place. Her Grandad had recently died and left her some money, so with our approval she enrolled at a language college in Salamanca and found a place with students from France, South America, and Germany.
Although I knew her motivation wasn't wholly inspired by academia, I couldn't fault her sense of adventure and grabbing an opportunity I would never have had. So we agreed. They found themselves a flat in Cabanyal and shortly after, jobs she an English Teacher - what else! Back to Salamanca and all is not rosy in paradise for Daughter 2.
A tearful train journey to Madrid, lugging a gigantic suitcase during the riots, then onward to Valencia to be consoled by her big sister.
