22nd September, Via de la Plata, Zamora onwards…

To Montemarta

Poor Matthew was struggling with his poorly knee, an extra night in the care of Seranella and Maria at the Albergue was the prescribed treatment. Vanessa (Mrs Matthew) and I soldiered on, leaving Matthew and Frank to sample a few beers before Frank left for Portugal and his own injury recovery.

Zamora isn’t a huge city by any means and it wasn’t too long before we were in open country once again although the Camino closely followed the course of the main N630 road.

The first village we encountered was Roales de Pan, just a few miles north of Zamora. It was far too early to contemplate stopping for a break although we took the opportunity to take some photos:

 The two photos above are of someone’s back garden in the village 

Vanessa posing in front of the village pump

Just across the way from the village pump was the Ayuntamiento, the town hall. We snuck in and had our Credencials stamped. A chap needs his Credencial stamping you know. It’s important.

Leaving the village, again heading north, we were soon out in open country. It wasn’t exciting scenery (in fact it was downright boring) but it made for itchingly rapid progress. This was good because it was an itchingly hot 28degC. Well I was itching, Vanessa just strolled gracefully onwards…but she’s a lady.

At one point we stopped for a bite and a drink. On a bridge. It was very hot. And I was itching and scratching madly. Our food consisted of squashed apple turnover thingies whilst our drink was the finest (warm) corporation pop that Spain could provide. It was good.

There has been much investment in the Spanish road network….but I get the distinct impression that the money tap has been turned off. Although our lunch bridge had been completed (sort of), we came across other bridges that were only half-built – quite literally half a bridge. Bloody dangerous if you’re wobbling your way home from the pub in the dark.

Entering Montemarta we passed a modern Milario = a photo opportunity not to be missed:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…and a statue of the mythical creature El Zangarron:

At the village fiesta to celebrate the winter solstice, villagers dressed as this creature chase people through the streets hitting them with a sort of trident. That’s the people they hit, not the streets. The consumption of beer and wine seems to play an important in this celebration.

Have a shufty of this.

After our photo-shoot we made straight for the bar / restaurant for essential refreshments: a beer and a bite to eat. And a gander at an El Zangarron familiar behind the bar:

Trying to find the Albergue was another matter altogether. There weren’t any signs in the village so we asked behind the bar….well Vanessa did, her can speaka da lingo remarkably well.

We were directed to the local supermarket that was being manned (girled?) by a young girl who promptly shut up shop and led us to an ordinary-looking house that was the Albergue – gawd knows how you were supposed to find the place without local knowledge.

For the princely sum of 10 Euros each we had dormitory accommodation AND breakfast the following morning.

Our dorm for the night

Well we should have had breakfast….more of that later.

We did, however, enjoy an excellent meal in the restaurant that evening. And it cost not a lot.

19th – 21st September: A bit more about Salamanca to Zamora

The walk from Salamanca to Calzada de Valdunciel took rather longer than planned. The weather had unexpectedly turned quite cool so I diverted to the local Decathlon to buy a lightweight fleece. Decathlon is on the south side of Salamanca, Calzada de Valdunciel is to the north. Oh well, it only added and 6-7 miles to the day.

I arrived (hungrily) at the cosy Albergue in Calzada de Valdunciel at around 8.30pm. With everywhere in the village being closed I had to rely on my rather meagre rations for sustenance. At least I managed to get a nice hot shower before bed.

The dorm had some rather unwelcome guests. The only legitimate guests, Patrice, Christien and I, all suffered at their teeth. Bedbugs.

The buggers caused some severe itchings, scratchings and general irritation. I’d sprayed my sleeping bag and liner with Permethrin prior to leaving home and this no doubt saved me from the worst ravages of the little beasts, but the nasty blighters still managed to take a good few nibbles of my exposed tender bits.

Bedbug Central, Calzada de Valdunciel 

Where Bedbugs love to eat 

 

  Knackered old cart, Calzada de Valdunciel 

Scratching and itching our rather hungry way northwards, to El Cubo de la Tierra del Vino (to give it’s full title) we three decided to just go for it – we’d be bound to find somewhere to eat before too long….after all, this was Spain, a country where eating is taken seriously.

Although not around here.

Christien, little me, and Patrice… and El Cubo 

Fortunately the Albergue Torre de Sabre in El Cubo came to the rescue in fine style:

L>R: Allan and & Christina from Denmark (serious walkers!), our Hospitalero, Frank, Miguel – all troughing in El Cubo. The hospitalero at the head of the table making sure we all eat our greens…otherwise there’s no pudding. We did, and there was.

Frankfurt Frank getting fresh with Mrs Hospitalera…he was hoping for another helping of dinner. Miguel, the cycling peregrino, is actually an undercover divorce lawyer on the look out for potential business.

Zamora

The next day we (Frankfurt Frank and me) arrived in Zamora.

Zamora is a small city that’s well worth exploring. Frankfurt Frank and I spent quite some time wandering around the bars  the many interesting sites and sights:

 San Juan de Puerta Nueva Church

Teatro Ramos Carrion

The Hotel Parador – we were wandering around the outside of the building, gawping at it’s magnificent beauty, when a very smartly–dressed man invited us inside to look around. ‘Open any door’ he said….so we did:

 

Our next stop was the Albergue…..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

….where we were to enjoy excellent hospitality…

…and no bedbugs:

The next morning we all left – apart from Matthew who was suffering a knee injury. An extra night in company of Seranella and Maria would see him right. Frankfurt Frank headed out west to Portugal to rest his broken foot. And to celebrate his birthday. I hope he got mended…and enjoyed his birthday!

L > R: Seranella, Frank, Maria, me, Miguel

Seranella in sun salutation mode

 

 

An overview of the route and more information on the Via de la Plata can be found here.

Via de la Plata Fartons

A Spanish treat, scented perhaps.

Via de la Plata, to Montemarte

A far more interesting day despite the first few grim kilometres of tarmac needed to exit the town. 

Route advice from the Cicerone guide book, waymarks and helpful locals all added to the, er, interest. 

There were far more Milarios and other features today. One garden I passed had been converted into a shrine of sorts - with all manner of garden-gnome type stuff.  Actually very impressive! 

Roadside water taps were more apparent, these were not only water supplies for the villages but also as very important  supplies for thirsty Peregrinos. 

I'll re-post with more photos when I get home, most of my photos were taken on my camera rather than my phone. 

Via de la Plata, to Granja de Moreuela

After leaving the Albergue in El Cubo del Vino in the company of Frank from Frankfurt we headed north to Zamora - but not before  visiting the local bar for a quick beer and some tapas.

It was a very hot day and a hard slog into Zamora. This was once again an unremarkable journey - in stark contrast to the Cacares to Salamanca section which was very interesting indeed. 

Zamora is a fascinating city, one that really needs more than one day to explore properly.

That will have to wait for another time though. 

Frank and I shared a small room in the excellent Albergue close to the centre of town. 

The two Hospitaleras, Seranella and Maria, made all the Camino Pilgrims very welcome, feeding and watering us to within 2.54cm of our lives. 

There was no charge for this hospitality, just a request for a donation.  I hope I was generous. 

There were around 16-18 staying that night,  cyclists,  walkers and one runner who had set out from Salamanca earlier that day - a distance of 68 of yer foreign kilometers. He was only a bit tired when he got there.

The Hospitaleras had been warned he was en route and so had saved him a substantial meal - he made short work of it! 

Frank from Frankfurt headed off route today, he's fractured a bone in his r foot. The doc has advised a week off walking so he's probably going to Porto in Portugal for some R&R.