For the Romantics - The Story of My Travel Fling

This one is long overdue. Let’s talk travel and romance.

You may be thinking, “I’ve never experienced a romance while in another country.” But may I remind you of the delusion we had as kids on family vacations. Remember when you had a crush on the perfectly tanned lifeguard? Or the girl on vacation with her family who was a bit older? Those crushes and made up scenarios of romances set the groundwork for our dreams and expectations as adults. The Lizzie McGuire Movie had its hand in too, although mainly before we found out Paolo was a loser. Nevertheless, our imaginations helped make these some of the hardest goodbyes since we knew we would never ever see our vacation crushes again. So dramatic. I miss being a kid. 

It’s time to tell you all about my first real travel romance. Grab a snack and enjoy.

Well it all started in the most beautiful place to potentially fall for someone… Tinder.

I believe I got banned a little after this and have not been able to make a new account since, which I believe is for the best. Dating apps are a beast that I am beyond done trying to slay. I feel as though Tinder would definitely be a part of Hell. Just a loop of messages like “Dtf?” and “Wow, your name is so exotic.” Yeah, no thanks.

It was October 2022 and I was living my best life in Valencia. Unfortunately time only seems to go by fast when you’re enjoying yourself, so the first month and a half went by in the blink of an eye and at this point, I had about two weeks left until it was time to return to the US. I was on Tinder and Bumble BFF hoping to meet some more people before my departure. To no surprise, most everyone was on Tinder for one thing and weren’t shy about it. I’m talking extremely forward and wasting absolutely no time. Then finally, one day I matched with a tall, curly haired, brunette man with a goatee mustache combo and tattoos who looked like he was into thrifting. Aka my type to a T. Let’s call him Andrés. 

*Note: These are all stock images (He didn’t look like this man, I just thought this picture was hilarious.)

“In Valencia until November 9th” was included in part of my Tinder bio and Andrés made his entrance with something along the lines of  “I only have a couple weeks to take you out on a date.” The bar was in Hell, I know. But hey, it was better than “Sex now?.” I mean come on… he actually wanted to take me out, this ones different I thought. A couple days after getting to know each other over WhatsApp, we set a date to meet. 

I don’t remember much of that morning but it was probably a weekday and I was at work. For visualization purposes, I was interning at a biotech company that was located on the marina. When I got home I most likely hung out with my roommates until it was time to get ready. Curly black bob, a nude-ish brown lip, cute black lace trimmed cami, brown parachute pants, cheetah print purse, and extremely dirty forces. This was the look. I shared my location with my roommates and was on my merry little way into the city on the bus hoping my mask wouldn’t ruin my makeup. Yes, masks were required on public transport at this time. 

We planned to meet up by the Turia Fountain in Plaça de la Verge or Plaza de la Virgen. When I got there, I sat on the steps in front of the fountain and texted him to let him know where I was. Then, I waited. I don’t remember if I got there early or if he was just late, but I think I was sitting there for about eight minutes. If he was late, that was the first and last time I was going to wait for a man who was late to a date. But seriously guys, time management, especially if you’re trying to court a lady, is literally the easiest part of the process. Whenever someone is late nowadays, I don’t wait. I leave. Unless there was an emergency, I really do not care to hear a grown man explain why he couldn’t at least aim to get there earlier. 

Anyways, back to Andrés. 

After sending the “This is kinda crazy, he could kill me” text to my friend, I looked up and saw him walking towards me. He had a kind smile. That’s the main thing that I remember. He was hot too obviously, but the smile was warm enough to allow me to let my guard down a little bit. I had no idea where we were eating that night since he told me he’d plan everything out, so I was just going with it. We love a man who takes initiative. After hugging and greeting each other, he told me we’d stop at a cocktail bar to get some sangria first (I don’t know what it was called) and then we’d eat dinner somewhere else.

*Cafe de las Horas. That’s the name of the cocktail bar. All I had to do was type in “fancy bar in Valencia.” (Pause and look it up for better visualization.)

I honestly don’t remember too much since it was two years ago, but I know we laughed a lot and the conversion flowed. Especially when I found out he was a freaking Leo. I don’t know what it is, but I always end up around these pests. No hate no hate, it’s just never ended well with a Leo for me, but I do love their qualities and understand why I am drawn to them initially. Funny, fiery, don’t take things too seriously. Andrés had all of these qualities from what I could gauge from this first meeting. A little background about him: He was a year or two younger than me, grew up in Valencia, played rugby, loved techno music and his grandma, and was very well aware of the illusion of the American Dream. It was refreshing talking to someone who was funny, attractive, and politically and socially aware.  I remember asking about nightlife and recommendations for Halloween and him recommending a huge club called Spook, which he would be going to with his friends. I think that was the last topic before we got up to pay the bill. Key word: “we.” Yup.

We walked up to the bar and asked for our check for one 18-26 euro pitcher of sangria. I proceeded to take out my wallet, since the least a lady could do is offer to pay and then of course be politely told that there was no need, but Mr. Andrés let me put my card down. I believe he did say something along the lines of “Are you sure?” and then thanked me, but come on dude. At the time, I didn’t really care, as long as he paid for dinner I was fine. And again, my standards have risen since. My card was swiped, the tip was left, and we were on our way to the next stop.

On our walk to wherever we were going, he asked me if I liked poke bowls, which I had never tried, but assumed I’d probably like since I enjoyed sushi. We made our way through the lightly lit alleyways and streets passing by the most beautiful buildings and historic monuments. For me, it was movie-like since I romanticize the hell out of everything, but it was probably just a regular walk for him. 

Once we got to the poke place, we ordered, he paid, we ate and then talked about our tattoos. He told me he had the pink panther tattooed on his butt cheek. I think. I really really wish I could remember everything else we talked about but the brain isn’t braining. When we were done, he walked me to the train station and we made plans to go thrifting soon. We hugged and he definitely expected a kiss to come after but I smirked and told him I don’t kiss on first dates. Which was true, but was hilarious in the moment. We laughed and I smiled all the way home. Mainly because I couldn’t believe that I was living my best life working, living, and going on dates in Spain. And keep in mind, this was the fourth quarter. The home stretch. There had been a lot of eventful things that happened in the first three and this was feeling like a cherry on top. Until it wasn’t.

In those last two weeks, Andrés and I saw each other another five times. Either he really liked me or he really just wanted to get in my pants. He never tried though, which I appreciated. We went thrifting, stargazed at the beach together, danced the night away at Spook on Halloween. But, but, but. There’s always a but. Letting me pay the first night, wasn’t the only red flag. And honestly, it was the smallest one, but I pretended like I couldn’t see the color red. 

One night, I slept over at my friend's house. We were getting in the Halloween mood and watching Hocus Pocus 2 after putting together our costumes. After a cozy night in and good night’s sleep, I woke up to Andrés’ new Instagram post. The first picture was of him and the second was of a girl hugging him from the side and kissing his cheek.

A moment of silence please.

My friend was in the bathroom when I screamed and started laughing hysterically. “I cannot have anything,” I thought. I was already struggling with the freshest wounds of trust being obliterated and thrown in my face earlier that year and thought it was comical that it was happening again. I proceeded to text Andrés to let him know that I wasn’t a home wrecker and would never want to be involved with a cheater. He explained that the girl in the photo was his best friend from childhood and that in Spain, it was normal to show friendly affection through kisses on the cheek…

I later found out from another Tinder match that it was indeed normal so he wasn’t lying and after stalking her Instagram learned that she had a boyfriend, so I decided to let it go. I was leaving in a week and wanted to make the most out of the time I had left in Valencia. And I liked him. Should I have let it go because I would be made out to look like the biggest idiot on the planet? Yes, but unfortunately, we all have to learn. 

It was two or three days before Halloween and I left work early to look for the rest of my Halloween costume. Andrés hadn’t responded to my texts that day, but I wasn’t going to let that ruin my mood. I got on a bus that I usually never went on since I’d go straight home after work most days. It was packed. It was hot. And after four stops, I couldn’t take it anymore and decided I’d get off and walk the rest of the way. It was a beautiful day and I realized I had never been on this side of the city before.

As I made my way down the restaurant-filled street, which was lined with tables along the sidewalk, my eyes decided to look in the direction of the people sitting outside to my left. For reference, I was on the right side of the street and the tables were on the side closer to the street as opposed to directly outside of the restaurant like in the stock photo above. My eyes fixed their way onto a brunette man. As I got closer and closer, I thought “Is that..?” “No, there’s no way, this city is huge,” “What are the odds?.”

Nelma honey, the odds were indeed small, but since the red flags weren’t enough, you needed a bigger “sign” and that is exactly what you got.  

The closer I got, and the more my eyes adjusted, I realized Andrés was staring right back at me, instead of his date who’s back was towards me. The look of horror quickly left his face as I got closer. He then nervously smiled and waved.

Guys I can definitely make this up and I really wish I was, but I’m not. I made a kind of  “Oh wow” face and continued walking past not being able to grasp what the hell just happened and hoping he’d get up and run after me.

At this point I really thought I was in a movie so that wouldn’t be that unlikely to happen. But it didn't, obviously. After walking another block I ended up sitting on a bench and calling my friend to tell her about the crazy sign I had just been sent. I was in the right place, at the most perfect time. And just to remind everyone, I definitely didn’t have to leave work early that day. I could have also sucked it up and stayed on that bus just a little bit longer, but I didn’t. 

After telling all of my friends about my crazy encounter, I did what any girl with no hope in men or love would do in Spain: I got some Taco Bell. As I sat there, eating my nacho fries and drinking my Baja Blast, I got a WhatsApp notification. Andrés was responding to my messages from this morning. And that’s all he did. He didn’t mention anything about the fact that I just saw him on a date with another girl.

This is where we pause. At this point, I was well aware of the fact that I had no right to get mad at a single man for dating. He was doing the same thing that I was doing after all. What really struck me was the chance of that happening the way it did and it being the second time in a week that I was disappointed by this man. I ended up telling him that it was crazy, but I understood because I was also going on dates with other people. Unfortunately, instead of owning up to it, he proceeded to lie and say it was just a friend. “Just a friend” may be the top 5 sayings that make my skin crawl to be honest. 

You’d think that I’d just tap out there. Be at peace my last couple days in Spain. But no. I decided to be cool and nonchalant. I met him on Halloween night after he said he’d let me know when he arrived and never did. I saw him and decided to act as though I didn’t and wait for him to approach me. He came up to me after seeing me sit with my friends for quite a while. Red flag.

Before he arrived, we had met some cool girls who were from Valencia. Of course out of the thousands of people there that night, we met his friends! I realized this when instead of coming up to me, he was talking to them at the table right in front of us for about five minutes. I later found out the one I followed on Instagram used to have something going on with him. Allegedly. She followed his Spotify and photography account which only has like 15 followers. I know.. I hate our generation.

After this, the red flags were popping up like Sephora ads on TikTok after you’ve already blocked them. That night, I found out that I didn’t like techno music and that Andrés fanny pack wasn’t just for his cigarettes. Live, love, laugh.

On my last night wehadagoodbyehangouandwatchedthestarsatthebeach. I know guys. I know. But something about having spent so much time with this stranger and having it end on bad terms really bothered me. It felt like it would’ve all been a waste of time if I didn’t make the most out of it. I don’t know if that makes sense to everyone, but it does to me.

I don’t think this was a normal case of “the red flags are right there” because I knew my whole “living abroad" experience was going to be a once in a lifetime kinda thing. Okay maybe not, in a lifetime, but it was my first time. It was a time of many firsts and I wanted this little romance to last or at least end on a good note. Although he was clearly not for me per all of those signs and flags, I spent a lot of time with him in those last two weeks and made quite a few of both good and bad memories. It was all for the PLOT.

Where are me and Mr. Andrés now? Well, I blocked him about a month into being back home because his actions showed that he didn’t really care enough to keep a friendship going and I was tired. He has a girlfriend now – yes I’ve creeped, I am human. She’s hot and he seems really happy. I’m glad he’s found someone. 

This story truly never gets old and I’m glad everything happened the way it did. Every single thing happens for a reason and I find so much comfort in that. Most everything in this life is a lesson and it’s crucial that we live, learn, love, forgive, and laugh as much as we can. But of course, always make sure you have contacts or glasses on if you can’t see that well. 

I hate the color red.