From the Mal de Mar we headed up to Valencia which is where I had agreed to meet my friend Graham. We had negotiated a rendez vous way back in Barbate. Our drive east had been spurred on by the looming deadline of the 23rd. We missed it by 1 night. Here we are the day we cane into port. Valencia was another world. Host to the next Americas cup there were the Prada and Oracle team’s boats on display, a regular helicopter service and, most impressively, the Club Nautico had an Olympic sized pool! Life was hard but we paid for it. 50 euros for the privilege and my fairleads, (things on the bow for leading the lines out to the dock) got ripped from the toe rail from a violent wave hitting the boat. We were tied up just at the Marina’s entrance. All in all it was an interesting stay. We arrived at 9 in the morning and left at 18:00 the next day. Plenty time of time spent in the pool both Friday and Saturday, a rambling trip into the city Friday night and an exit from the entrance to the Marina just as the fleet of spectators had returned from the days racing. I still have this picture of a 50 year old Spaniard beaming down at me, all of his 45 foot power boat barrelling down on Compromise at about 20 knots. Big wave, big smile, Hola Valencia, we were off to Ibiza.