Salamanca, with its perfectly preserved Roman and 16th century buildings paid for by conquest, and then east across the meseta, the high plains of Castilla y Léon.
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Friday 4 to Sunday 6 October. Salamanca |no cycling|
It’s amazing how little Salamanca has changed in the 8 years since I used to live there. The same people are running the same tapas bars (eg. Miguel and Manolo at Doctrinos; Santi and Rosa at La Aldaba, to mention just two of our favourites), the same graffiti is on my old building and the same half-renovated building project stands abandoned up the street. And my friends’ circle of friends and their routine have hardly changed at all either. Great for them, but not for me I’m afraid – too boring!
By the way, somewhere in the photo below is the famous rana, or frog, that you’re supposed to find to have good luck for a year (or bad luck if you don’t). So good luck with that. (And yep, I checked – it is there. Write in for spoiler).
Thursday nights are for the regular weekly gathering of friends – on this occasion there were 9 of us – at the tapas bar du jour. Then on Friday I caught up with Tomás, an ex work colleague, at his same tapas joint for the past 30 years.
On Saturday Andres and I went the 20-or-so kilometers out to the lovely country house, full of interesting mementoes dating back to the early 1900s, that he grew up in (now his house), where we picked a mountain of table grapes and figs and checked on the olives, acorns and pomegranates, and then on to the pueblo that Sergio grew up in (he didn’t come with us, he was feeling a bit sick) and visited the aunt and great aunt, and then to Andres’ and Sergio’s own ‘summer chalet’ quite nearby in the pueblo of Galindo y Perahuy. It must be nice to have that sense of association – of ‘belonging’ somewhere. I know I don’t have it. Too late now!
On Sunday it was the regular Sunday lunch at home with Andre’s 91-year-old mum. I’m sure mine couldn’t have managed the two-storey walk up to the apartment at that age, and, really, you wouldn’t put her a day older than 75, both physically and mentally.
Of course, both Saturday and Sunday evenings consisted of the usual round of tapas bars that starts at about 9 and finishes around 12. No wonder siestas are an actual thing here.
Monday 7 October 2019. Salamanca • Simancas |146 km|
This was a hard, boring slog.
[It was sunny with some high cloud, but bitterly cold – maybe 6°C, which is bitterly cold for me. But it did eventually warm up to the mid-20s. Not much wind, just a slight easterly breeze later on. The cycling was on variants of SA-605 road, with a narrow shoulder and no verge and very busy in both directions, for 80 km, then tough going on hard-packed dirt with some loose stony sections for 50 km and finally back to asphalt for the last 15 km. The route took in: Christobal, Aldea Nueva de Figeroa, Fuentesauco, La Bóveda del Toro, Villabuena del Toro, Toro, Morales, Villalar de los Comuneros, Bercero, Velliza and Simancas – all villages with hardly any services]
I left my friends’ Salamanca apartment at the crack of dawn (well, at 8.30am, which was 9 minutes after sunrise). As I say it was cold, but even so I resisted putting on my windcheater for half an hour or so, hoping to out-wait the sun, but succumbed before even leaving the suburbs.
It was peak-hour but the ride out of Salamanca was well-planned by Ziggy’s GPS and included some bike path and some quiet Industrial Estates (called Polígonos in Spain: every non-descript little dorp has it’s own – a good example of pork-barreling gone mad).
The going was supposed to be getting more interesting past Toro, or so I was told, with the wine country of Ribera del Duero starting to shine. But I only saw a couple of small dry un-trussed vineyards along here. So it was quite boring as far as Toro (73 km), and then just plain difficult thereafter. The track I’d been put on by the GPS was initially very bad – rubbly pebbles alongside the A-11 expressway – but then became somewhat more interesting as it moved away from the A-11 and passed through spaghetti-western type villages and vistas of expansive barren landscapes. Except for those bloody windmills.
At the 98 kilometer mark I got a puncture in the front tyre – another blackberry prickle believe it or not, way out here in the desolate meseta. I took this as an omen and finally chucked out the tyre (and tube). The tyre had done well to last 14,700 km, by far the greatest distance I’ve achieved with a tyre yet, but it was definitely now time to go.
At 3.20pm at the 109 km mark, I stopped for lunch more so than for a charge-up, though as it happened I needed the charging too. This was at a restaurant called La Posada del Agua in the village of Villalar de los Comuneros, where the menú del día – I had a huge serving of artichokes with ham and garlic followed by a steak and salad, then flan and coffee – set me back the princely sum of €11.
I only stopped for an hour 20 minutes but I suspect they only had 2 amp power sockets because not much charge seemed to go in. I didn’t think this was crucial at the time as there was only 30 km to go to Simancas where I was aiming to stay for the night, but I didn’t count on the worsening road surface or the steep hills yet to come.
A horrible noise started emanating from the bike’s bottom bracket where the crank and electric motor are located. It was worse under load in low range and not as bad on asphalt for some reason. It only became noticeable after I’d changed the tyre – something to do with having the bike upside down, maybe?
I made it to Simancas, but only just, and in the absence of any campgrounds within 30 km according to both google and my GPS map app, I had no option really other than to stay in an hotel. The horrible noise had stopped though, after I got back onto tarmac for the last 20-odd km.
I hunkered down at the first hotel I came across, Pago del Olivo, that gives itself 3 stars and cost €59. The room was OK, but the hotel is a fair way out of town and their food was awful. I did get to set out the tent to dry though, after it being put away wet a week ago in Santander.
Tuesday 8 October 2019. Semancas • Aranda de Duero |135 km|
This was a day about vineyards.
[Same weather as yesterday: cold early on, up to mid-20s later, not much wind. Mainly on flat tarmac with narrow shoulder and no verge. Then road CL-600 had a wider shoulder and only moderate traffic. The route took in: Puente Duero, Tuleda de Duero, Villabañez, Olivares de Duero, Valbuena de Duero, Peñafiel, San Martín de Rubiales, Rua de Duero and Aranda de Duero]
At 9.30 and only 8 km cycled, I stopped for coffee and pastries in Puente Duero. I sat outside with a funny old bloke drinking his morning cognac and chain-smoking Camels. I told him that if he lived where I come from he’d be much healthier as he wouldn’t be able to smoke; that’s because he only pays €4.60 for a pack of cigarettes in Spain that would set him back €33.00 in Australia. He just couldn’t believe it and had to loudly proclaim this piece of incredible information to everybody who was walking on by or going into the café, and then get my confirmation each time when they couldn’t believe it either. Quite funny, really.
The villages along here look much more prosperous than the ones on the meseta of a week ago, and finally, at midday I was properly into wine country at last, in the Ribera de Duero D.O.C (Denominación de Origen Controlada), the second-most famous wine district in Spain.
All the villages were at last interesting, and Peñafiel was the most interesting of the lot. I stopped there at Bar Chicopa in the ‘casco historico‘ (historic centre) at 1.40pm after 81 km cycled, for about an hour. The arroz con carne (fried rice with meat) and guisado de pollo (chicken stew), (plus ice cream, coffee and a coke) were excellent and made for a very hearty lunch for €13. Once again, I didn’t really need to charge the bike batteries and mainly did so out of habit ‘just in case’.
Today, there was an ‘explosion’ of jet contrails above me, and all more-or-less heading from south to north (those Germans going home from Faro again!), that persisted and spread throughout the whole day. I wonder if anyone’s ever done the calculation on how much global cooling (by reflection of insolation – called ‘shade’), is caused by such high-altitude cirrus cloud formation that covered at least 25% of the sky on this day. But of course, the warming lobby would have us believe the opposite is true.
From 3pm until 4pm there were 18 km of floating gravel road that I was beginning to worry about never ending, and, being worried about expiring somewhere along it, I topped up my water supply in San Martín de Rubiales, the only village in 100km that had a shop (it was a bar, actually) that was open (and got ripped off – €4 for 1.25l of water and a can of coke).
Via routes BU-131, 130 and 134 I continued along the Duero River through the wine district. The town of Rua de Duero must be at the centre of the D.O.C. area because that’s where the Consejo Regulador de Denominación (Regulating Council) is located, in a vastly over-designed monstrosity of a building. (Wikipedia: “Each wine region in Spain is governed by a council of regulation, which decides on the boundaries of the region, permitted varietals, maximum yields, limits of alcoholic strength and other quality standards or production limitations pertaining to the zone”).
The town of Aranda de Duero (pop. 33,000), where I stayed for the night, was very pleasant. There seemed to be a nice tapas vibe to it of an evening – I certainly enjoyed an evening of tapas! I stayed in Hotel Julia right in the centre of town, and it was cheap too (only €29) and quite comfortable.
Wednesday 9 October 2019. Aranda de Duero • Soria |163 km|
This was a day about wind turbines – 100s of ’em.
[Cold again – I had my new fleecy-lined check long-sleeved shirt on – to begin the day’s cycling at 9.20am, but it did get hot. The head wind at 20km/h was a nuisance for 40-odd kilometers. The route took in: BU-925; Quemada, Peñaranda de Duero: BU-934 (called Camino Cid); Guijosa: SO-P-5108; Fuencabente del Duero, Fuencaliente de Burgo: SO-P-5007; El Burgo de Osma, Usero: SO-P-501; Cubilla, Muriel Viejo: N-234: Camino Naturel Santander-Mediterráneo for 20 km of dirt]
I made a long detour to go see what the city of El Burgo de Osma had to offer (it’s medieval cathedral, mainly), but it was a bit of a disappointment and so I moved right on along.
At the pueblo of Usero, at 90 km travelled for the day, the GPS directed me onto a tiny quiet little road (SO-P-5081) that took me along a winding canyon through a national forestry reserve (I think it was). This worried me, in view of all the strange noises still emanating from the bike now and again, and also not knowing where the next charging opportunity might be.
But at 110 km for the day, I finally found a pueblo with a bar that was open where I could charge the bike batteries. This was Muriel Viejo, and the bar was inside the town hall (ayuntamiento). The bar was very basic – not even any tapas on offer – but I was obliged to have a conversation with the prickly bartender and his two drunken customers, one of whom was a sheep farmer – I don’t know about his silent mate. We talked about every detail imaginable of Spanish sheep farming versus Australian sheep farming, a subject about which I know absolutely nothing; however, that was not taken as a sufficient answer, so I just made up a whole lot of stuff – you know, like about killed weights, product prices, stocking density etc. etc.).
Not long after Muriel Viejo I was GPSed by Ziggy onto a dirt bicycle trail (the sheep farmer had mentioned this). I ignored it for a few kilometers though, as the going is tougher on the dirt and I hadn’t charged up much, (wanting to get out of there, quick-as), but after 10 km I decided to go on it anyway (for road safety reasons), and so cruised on in to Soria along a flat rail-trail all the way. It was a floating gravel surface along an old railway line embankment that required immense concentration to keep the loaded bike travelling in a straight line without fish-tailing or skidding off. Quite exhilarating and well worth it in the end (easy to say now, since I made it in one piece). In the shadow of one particular underpass the loose gravel had accumulated to about a foot deep and I was very lucky my momentum carried me through without crashing.
In Soria, I had a bit of trouble again finding accommodation. Four full hotels and two full Hostels later I remembered the sheep-farmer from Muriel Viejo recommending Hostel Vitorino. So I went to check it out. They were full too, but Julian there said he had another place ‘somewhere else’. It was all a bit suss, but I followed him in his car anyway back into the centre of town (it’d taken me 4 km to go the other way, and the bike’s batteries were already reading empty by this time, so I was worried about that, as well as being kidnapped or robbed). But all was OK, if not exactly above-board. Julian got a key from Hostal El Centro (that I’d already tried and been refused in), and for €35 (cash; no receipt, alright?) I had a self-contained 1 bed apartment right smack in the centre of town all to myself. It smelled a bit bad (mainly in the bathroom, of sewerage somewhere further down the system, I suspect) and it was furnished to a pretty basic standard, but still it was a great deal, all considered.
Soria has a real tapas culture too, and I did the rounds. My new favourite beer is now Keler from the Basque Country, 6% strength. All up, at various establishments I had 5 of those Kelers (but they’re only 200ml each), two regular 375ml bottles of Galicia Estrella beer, a ½-kilo of chuletas (lamb chops), 2 really nice vinos and 4 top-of-the-range tapas (of prawns, lobster and ibérico ham x 2), for a total cost of €23.50. Oh, but I do like Soria!
Thursday 10 October 2019. Soria • Tudela |117 km|
This day was mostly about an exhilarating ride down a big hill.
[Cold to warm conditions again. Similar road surfaces too, from narrow tarmac to floating gravel; very hilly, but mostly down (700m up and 1,600m down). Almost no traffic. The route took in: Velilla de la Sierra, Renieblas, Almajano, Suellacabras, Trévago, San Felices, Castil Ruiz and Aguilar del Río Alhama]
After Trévago, at the 48 km mark for the day, I entered a canyon on road SO-P-105 that took me on 20 km of downhill, first to the mountain village of San Felices, from where the canyon then opened out, and then onto the long winding descent to Aguilar del Río Alhama that was exhilarating and quite spectacular and whatever other superlatives you might like to throw at it.
After this long downhill, I was casting around for a stop-over for lunch and a charge-up. A local directed me to Restaurante Sanda at a roundabout where my quiet downhill road joined the busy LR-123. This was at 1.20pm after having cycled 83 km and with 54 km still to go to Tudela. For €11, I had a delicately-flavoured pasta con jamón (think pasta carbonara), sausages (eight of them!) in a tomato broth, a bottle of cider (careful to have only one glassful though), a chunk of cherry cheesecake, bread and iced coffee (café con leche y hielo). That sure gave me a full belly.
After Restaurante Sanda, I continued on the main road LR-123 for 10 km, then branched off onto a dirt track among orchards – not really my doing, but the GPS insisted. This disturbed me, because that horrible noise came back again, for the 3rd day in a row now when cycling on dirt. But the dirt only lasted 10 km and then I was back on the main road again into Tudela.
Tudela wasn’t great. Horrible industry all along the way in, a railway embankment right through town spoiling the historic quarter. At least I got into the first hotel I tried, the Santamaria (€55).
Friday 11 October 2019. Tudela • Huesca |136 km|
This was a day about wind.
[Overcast, not at all cold. The white-out burned off by 11 am and it was then a cloudless day in the low-20s. Undulating minor asphalt roads with no markings or shoulder, little to no traffic. A beastly wind from the SE at 20 km/h (I was heading mainly east) sprang up and marred enjoyment of the day’s cycling. The route took in only a couple of towns: Valareña, Ejea de los Caballeros, Erla, Piedratajada, La Sotonera (dam) and all of them had nothing, and Huesca]
I got away from Hotel Santamaria at 9.40 am. I have found there’s no point rushing it as Spain doesn’t come awake until at least 10.30 or so, and any potential stopping points don’t open until 1.30 – 2.00.
At 64 km I stopped at a bar/ diner located in an industrial estate that mainly catered to factory workers and truckers and was doing a roaring trade. This establishment went by the name of La Perla. I definitely needed the 2-hours I spent there recharging, due to the constant battering head-wind that I was before, and after, subjected to. The stuffed animal heads everywhere – bulls, Ibex, and deer – were a major turn-off, but the food was excellent: I had creamed veg soup (crema de legumbres), beef stew (estofado de ternera), a magnum ice cream and this time I settled for mineral water and plain coffee.
The rest of the ride into Huesca was straightforward on very busy roads with speeding traffic but at least a wide shoulder.
As soon as I found the town centre I tried Hostal El Centro when I spotted it. It then took me a good 20 minutes to wake up Jochen (‘Hwa-kin’) and get him into reception to check me in (actually, it was his son, who was running the bar next door, who heard my bell-ringing and yelling-out and came and woke him from upstairs), and for €32 (foreigner’s price for a ‘double’ – no singles left, yeah, right) I took 2 night’s worth for a well-earned rest. And a great little place it is too – both the town and the hostel!
I found a tiny run-down bar in the laneway by the side of my room, Bar El Pasage, that is owned by two Irish/Spanish brothers who are rugby fanatics, and watched a couple of the matches there together with a small group of regulars.
-ends-
#72 Salamanca to Huesca |698 km| – 4,673m climbed
Distance cycled in Europe in 2019: 10,155 km
Total distance this bike in Europe: 15,298 km
Hi Paul,
Thanks for sharing your latest blog. I would like to go back to Spain next year, having a base somewhere and doing some Ducati rides from there.
One thing that would help your blogs is a route map. You can plot it on Google maps and then screen shoot it and attach. I do that for all my trip reports.
We tried e-bikes for the first time in Colombia of all places, up in the hills above Medellin. Also our daughter Rebecca has an e-bike in Melbourne. But it will be a few years before I get one
We are now back in Bunbury, and am not planning to go anywhere except for a dive trip to Indonesia at the end of the month.
Keep safe and stay upright.
PS how is your Spanish now?
PPS I have even had two job enquires recently!
I take your point about the route maps Andrew. I’m planning a major site upgrade when I get back to Australia to add a top menu tab that takes the reader to a collection of all the ‘live’ route maps, but maybe adding a photo of the daily route isn’t a bad idea either – that’s what I used to do, but the individual maps look quite messy, but I could just insert a link that the reader gas to click on (used to do that too). My Spanish is still up to scratch for day-to-day chatting, I’m pleased to say.