Sometimes I think it’s a joy to speak several languages (most badly) ‘cos the strangeness of Valencia is no worse than the strangeness of a day in an English town previously unvisited (Barrow in Furness comes to mind for some reason) with a strong accent.
On the bus back from Valencia I had a nice long friendly conversation in German with an East German couple my age who though well educated spoke no English (Russian yes). I don’t know if any of us knew what the conversation was actually about but it went very well. I think it was about dogs mostly – they having one with them that is very aggressive. Funny way to travel.
