LBB Note #8: Alicante (Day1: Night Festival and Day 2: Tabarca)

At night the San Juan festival came alive. The whole city was out of their homes and out on the street, either in one of the many Barracas (private, fenced-off block parties organized throughout the year. Some are also open to the public) or in parks throughout the city. As we walked through some of the darker, more secluded blocks of Alicante, we were often surprised by the large, well-lit ninots (the tall figures that Alicantinos burn the Night of Saint John) that hid around the corner. They seemed much more impressive at night with their strategic lighting; a towering figure coming out of the void.

The night smelled of gunpowder, like a Fourth of July multiplied times ten. Kids were running around, throwing firecrackers at each other. A thick cloud of smoke floated over the entire city.

The biggest crowds were at the port. Here all the parties were public and, for a small fee, you could get into the parties and have something to eat and drink while enjoying the live music and entertainment. While it was around 1 AM, the crowds were still...erhm demographically varied. Children, senior citizens, teenagers and adults were all out on the street; it seemed no one had a curfew during Saint John's.
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Alicante

Tabarca

I looked back on the hungover castle from the stern of a boat the next day. Syed and I had caught a ride  to the small island of Tabarca, a few miles off the Spanish mainland. Tabarca is the smallest permanently inhabited island in Spain, with a population of 68 people (We almost doubled the population with our boat). Because it was separated by about ten nautical miles from the mainland, the island fort was used as a prison; but not before being a pirate haven. My kind of island.

We were now in open water, with about 48 other people, on our way to Tabarca. The sea was calm, and the boat pleasantly rocked back and forth like a big wooden hammock. With each period of a wave the boat would creak gently at the seams. I decided to get a nice place upstairs, next to the bridge. I kind-of wish it had been choppier, that way I could have seen Syed's face go from a nice tan, to a pale greenish color until he was feeding the fish. I, on the other hand, had spent a fairly large amount of time on boats, and God knows I have done my time bending over the port side of a boat begging the waves would stop. I did miss being out in the ocean (in the Mediterranean this time, no less), feeling the salt spray and the breeze blow over the bow and through your hair. I'm on a boat.

Boating shoes on a boat? How innovative.

Tabarca was a patch of land with the remains of a fort and a prison tower, a large church that was closed for renovations, a really nice beach, a dozen restaurants, twice that many houses and little more than that. It was a quaint, stereotypical Mediterranean fishing town. The houses were whitewashed, and the streets narrow and cobbled.




After exploring the island from end to end (which took us about 20 minutes) we decided to go for a swim. By this point a lot more ferries had gotten to the island, and all the tourists they brought were bunched up on the only beach there was. Since we had checked out of our place in Alicante, we had all our stuff in our bags. I, being the paranoid Honduran that I am, didn't want to leave our stuff on the beach while we swam. So, in the same bay, we decided to climb down a cliff and settle down on one of the large rocks that cropped out of the ocean floor.

The sky was cloudless, and it was around noon; so we sat like iguanas on our rock. Periodically we dove into the cool (and fairly deep) turquoise water. Syed took out his speaker and started playing music. We were pretty much set on this little American enclave in the smallest island in Spain. We eventually named our little escarpment: the American Commonwealth State of Dwayne Johnson.

 I had another Alhambra-esque moment of not wanting to leave the place I was at but alas, I was really hungry. So we climbed back up the cliff and decided to eat in one of the restaurants overlooking the pier our ship would dock at. I decided to order some of the famous Mediterranean seafood. I got the gambas, which are large (and I mean pretty large) shrimp. 

In good Spanish form, I took the head off, squeezed lemon juice in it, and slurped all that creamy, fatty goodness. The shells had sea salt encrusted on them, so I ate those whole. The entire meal was fine and delicious until the check was brought. I had to shell out (hehe) 50 euro. I wanted to jump into the sea and swim all the way back to Valencia.

The boat picked us up, and we sailed back to Alicante just in time to catch the car back home to Valencia. This trip was the most pleasantly surprising one of my life. 

The Castle framed by our bow