Our hotel was in an interesting area, with views (and short walks!) to the City of Arts and Sciences, the Valencia Port, and nearby apartment buildings. The hotel was also adjacent to a school, so there are a couple of photos of that, too. When looking at these photos, you can’t see the little bars and cafes that make walking in Valencia such a treat. The streets were alive all day long: In the evenings, people walked to dinner; in the afternoons, grandparents would walk home with their grandchildren; and in the mornings, mothers and fathers would take their children to school, hands clasped as they crossed the streets together.

I am very thankful that my time in Valencia reminded me that there are other ways to live that include walking to the supermarket, the bakery, and the green grocer. The pictures remind me how diverse and interesting my own places can be, if I simply open my eyes and look around.

(Note: I do recommend the hotel… they took very good care of us: AC Hotel Valencia)

the police within 30 days of entering the country. Three weeks ago, when I first went to the police station, I was given a ticket that was personally more important that Willy Wonka’s Golden Ticket. It was my entrance to the police office station.

(Actually, it was for 25 November at 19:00… can you imagine any official office in the US being open at 7:00 in the evening? Me, either. Image courtesy: http://goo.gl/ih8vZS)

 I was prepared. I had all of my official documentation, my rental agreement, my visa paperwork, my “certificado de empadronamiento” (obtained fairly painlessly at a different police station near the city center), my passport (and a copy of each page), my Spanish bank account information, my receipt for the €15.15 I paid to the bank, a set of passport-size photos, and my ticket.

Thirty-seven minutes later, I walked out of the office with my official letter indicating that I had officially ordered my residence card. I have to go back in 30 days to pick it up… in person, of course. Not so bad, considering some of the drama I have had to endure for my driver’s license.

At the end of the day, though, this means that I am now an official resident — for one year, at least — of Spain. The adventure is now fully underway!

was surprising serene. I was pleased when the contracting was a relatively short and painless process… Whew!

See below for realtor pix. Better ones may be provided if I get internet service in a timely manner!

I think such courtesy would wear very thin very quickly in the US, but in my experience here, such involvement seems the norm. All that being said, I don’t yet have an apartment. I have seen many places, from teeny-tiny to old and faded to small and cute. Since my cellphone number is still on order, I don’t have any way to contact folks easily, which is very frustrating, but my friends have gone out of their way to accommodate my unique needs. Admittedly, I can’t be easy on their nerves!

Such a situation becomes even more amazing when I realize that I only met these folks in January when I was in Valencia for two weeks. What’s even more wonderful for me is that I feel so supported by these awesome people who are showing me patience, consideration, and understanding when I admit that I am frustrated and confused. “I don’t understand” is one of my most-used phrase in Spanish right now. So, gentle reader, is “Gracias.”

The next available appointment to make identification cards is set for November 25 at 7:00 PM. Not before. Not after. And even if I waited in line all day (my number in line was 77, and after 30 minutes, #5 had just been called), I was not going to be able to get my card.

After a little time to regroup, I realized that I could still order phone services online without the identification card… until I realized that I needed a bank account, not a credit card, like in the US. While disappointing, it was not shocking.

So, now for a bank account. On the way to dinner, Cristian suggested that we step into La Caixa, a major bank here in Spain. The lady that helped me was ridiculously fluent in Spanish, English, German, and French, but, more importantly, did not need the identification card to open an account, just my passport and the NIE number that had already been established for me. At least for that, I had scored a win on both counts, and was able to open an account.

Banks in Spain are interesting institutions, as I mentioned before, with all kinds of official functions. One of the requirements for holding a Spanish bank account is that you must also pay for insurance (life, health, accident, etc.) to open an account. That’s good in one way, because it means that your account holders are less of  a financial risk, but bad for someone like me, who already has insurance (had to get that for my visa) and doesn’t need to pay for more. Oh, well. I got the cheapest accident insurance available and the deed is done.

Once back in my hotel after dinner, I was finally able to request phone service, so in a few days I will thankfully have texting, internet, and phone call availability, and I won’t feel so disconnected from my regular communication pathways. Whew!

Getting a visa apparently also takes a village, and I couldn’t have gotten this far without support from my friends and family. From Michael listening to my stress-induced rants to Melina helping me with translations, and Elaine notarizing everything in sight, there are so many people who have encouraged me and bolstered my determination to make this adventure come true.

In the next two weeks, I have to finish packing all of the effects of my life, spend a little time with some family and friends, sell my car, and submit my PhD prospectus. Only a few things to do, I suppose!

Internations is a multicultural group, and another person with whom I shared a glass of wine and a lot of laughter was a lady from England. Teaching in a school in the afternoons, Angie has been in Valencia for several months, and she and I were able to meet for lunch and discuss our lives and future plans. Since anyone can join Internations, a number of people were also from Spain or Latin America.

One person that I met from Latin America was Cristian, an Ecuadorian who lives in Valencia. He doesn’t speak much English, but became my de facto tour guide while in Valencia. He made sure I got good photos of the City of Arts and Sciences, went with me to dinner several times, and went with me to the local open-habitat zoo, the Bioparc. Since a one-on-one conversation is much easier than a group conversation for language learners, Cristian became a language tutor, cultural guide, and a friend. His patience and willingness to listen as we shared concepts was a big gift.

Two Spaniards who helped me learn language and culture were Jose Luis and Jose, who invited me to share a meal and conversation with them. Jose Luis speaks English, but Jose does not, so my language skills and mime abilities grew as we talked.

And perhaps the best for last, since it involves two of my heroes: Mike and Juergen from for91days.com. I have been following them for a couple of years as they travelled around the world. Their website describes their interest in using their ability to work anywhere, creative writing, and outstanding photography. We had a great conversation at a bar one evening, and I felt like I quizzed them the entire time because I had so many questions. They are great guys to finally meet in person after communicating with them online after a couple of years. Follow their travels on their website and buy their books. You won’t be disappointed: for91days.com or on Twitter: @for91days