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First Reactions in Spain!

First reaction- who in their right mind eats dinner at 9 pm. I’m literally starving… STARVING. Secondly, why is everything shut down in the middle of the day?? They really take this siesta thing seriously. But the shopping, so much shopping, a Zara on every block. Who did this to my bank account??? Is sangria for brunch... lunch…and dinner… normal?

Welcome to the mind of a complete shell-shocked Sydney a week into living in Valencia.


The most mind-boggling thing for me was probably washing machines in the kitchen, now that one threw me. You wouldn’t think that the placement of a washing machine would cause such an uproar but in our tiny apartment, to our little Italian, American, Norwegian, german group it was unthinkable.



Valencia isn’t exactly what you expect when someone says study abroad. Let me guess you’re thinking ancient architecture, quaint little shops, deserted beaches. Well, Valencia is all of that mixed into one big bag of tricks. My apartment is in the valencia equivalent of Bronx. How is that visual? Making sense? What you’re seeing depends on where you’re standing one street could be cobblestones and romance architecture but the street over that’s a 12 story apartment complex, a little bit farther you’re standing on the beach. From one street to another you’re going to get a different vibe. That being said the city sections out pretty well…. City center, El Carmen, Ruffaza, Old Town, Beachy, and the University area but even with those sections, you see a lot of overlap and no area is just one thing. It’s one of those places where you could live 20 years and never see every corner. It’s one of those places you could stay.



Valencia feels like a Spanish San Francisco mixed with a little New York City except it’s a whole lot cleaner. Less giant rats everywhere more marble sidewalks. Everyone is a little bit nicer and the vibe is a whole lot slower. People take their time, there’s no rush unless you’re in the back seat of a taxi… then there’s a rush. Terrifying. But a much more relaxed and a little more spread out New York City is the best comparison I have for my beautiful Americans.


I can honestly say that so far I’ve never felt unsafe here. Well except when everyone and their brother starts setting off fireworks in the middle of a park, fireworks in a city… take a guess what the first thing that comes to mind would be. I mean who sets off fireworks in the middle of the afternoon anyway??? People in Valencia that’s who… and its an everyday thing. I should also mention the excessive number of times I’ve almost been run over, we’ll chalk it up to user error, definitely. When the crosswalk sign starts blinking run… don’t walk… no seriously. Learn from my mistakes and run.


Being here is an adventure in itself. Walking around alone well it’s one of my fatal flaws and according to my grandmother is going to get me snatched off the streets but there’s something so fun about walking around a new city. Youre going to get lost. So when it happens take a deep breath and just enjoy it. Enjoy that feeling of having absolutely no idea where you are in a new city. Soak it up because that feeling doesn’t come around every day.


There is nothing comparable to the first week being in a new city whether it’s 3 hours from home or 4,000 miles youre going to make amazing memories.


So here’s my advice turn off your phone. You heard me turn it off, pick a direction and just start walking. You’re going to get lost that’s the point. In getting lost youre going to find a cute little park in France or a cafe where you’ll want to come back to, day in and day out, you might find a brunch spot that will become your brunch spot in Raleigh or a Mexican restaurant in the middle of Florence that holds the best memories in those colorful walls. What you won’t know then is that the spot you just found it’s going to become your safe space for the next couple of days, then a week, then months, and in 5 years when you finally come back it’s still going to be there welcoming you back.


Just get lost for a bit…



Cheers and love from across the sea!


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Hi, thanks for stopping by!

When I was 5 or 6, my dad told me that he wasn't sure how I got the name Sydney Grace because I am the absolute opposite of graceful. Loud. Clumsy. Messy. Fun. And so not graceful. The nickname stuck, and sydneygraceful was born, but here I am ready to introduce you to SydneyNotSoGraceful. 

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