Snowy peaks...

After a very convivial evening at Monfrague campsite chatting to our new Australian friend and a very well travelled American, we broke camp the next morning , heading to Plasencia for coffee. The ancient cobbled central square is like a film set, every sort of little tower, colonnade, old clock, tiled and marbled cafés crowd around as 6 twisty cobbled streets enter. No tourists, just locals. It is pedestrianised after 11.00 so before then little vans whizz back and forth delivering. Just before 11.00 the police arrive hurrying everyone out and leaving tickets on 2 vehicles who don't make the deadline. After this entertainment we head off up the River Jerte, on a fine dedicated cycle path for many miles, then onto the good road surface, climbing through just one village, others being perched high above us on the slopes of the Montes de Tras la Sierra on our left and the Sierra de Gredos on our right. Mountain streams gush down on either side and waterfalls glint through the trees. Snow gleams in the sun on the peaks. The final haul out of the valley is a gruelling series of hairpins, with a view behind us of the cherry orchards on the lower slopes. The pass of Tornavacas at 4195 feet is under the snow line, thank goodness. It has been a magnificent climb through scenery as fine as the Pyrenees, but we are the only cyclists among a couple of passing cars. Silence at the top, just distant cow bells.


Ahead is the dour little hamlet of Puerto Castilla, a handful of cottages huddled together in the wind on this side of the pass, their walls tile-hung for extra protection. No one is on the street. It is not so much of a drop this side, as the plateau stays high. We stay in a little hotel near the centre of El Barco de Avila, with Granny helping us take our bikes down marble steps to the basement. About our 30th castle on a nearby corner, and a paved and colonnaded plaza, where only a very few hardy souls promenade as at this height the evening is cold. We join everyone else in a snug bar for Tapas - tripe, tortilla and several unidentified goodies. Live bullfighting is on both TV screens here, and in the 2nd bar.
Fifteen miles over the plateau in the morning, with a leat running towards us the whole way from a reservoir in the hills. This brings water to the cattle troughs. Through these hills to the charming village of Piedrahita, with the best central plaza yet, clock towers, colonades, metal balconies and a red tiled church roof covered with stork nests. These are full now with big clacking fledglings. One stork has avoided the overcrowding by putting her nest on a huge construction crane! Off north, away from the small fields with dry stone walls to vast arable farms. We had forgotten how fantastic the distant view of ancient Salamanca is, the enormous central cathedral and ancient university buildings dominate the newer surroundings. We camp a few miles out on a large orchard campsite, our nearest neighbour a pair of storks and their big chick on the water tower, until our young Australian arrives. (We must remember to ask his name!)


Miles to date:- 1212

Location:Plasencia to Salamanca