Via De La Plata, Part VI: Salamanca And A Conga Line

Fall, 2017

We arrived at Fuenterroble de Salvatierra with its famous albergue which was started by Don Blas Rodriguez who did much of the work reviving the camino in this region. The main albergue building is stuffed with books, memorabilia, pieces of art, tack for the horse carts stored in an adjoining shed, and just stuff. Assorted ramshackle out-buildings are full of lumber and pieces of metal, large and small -- an array of tools (carpenter, metal working, and gardening -- both hand and power) and what seems to be plain junk, untouched for years. Other sheds have 20 horse carts, highly painted and decorated, used in parades. It's an interesting place.
   We got into town too late for lunch and too early for dinner, but we did find baguette sandwiches in a local bar (Asador El Pesebra) and they were wonderful. Mine was bacon-like pork  plus a bunch of other stuff, and dw's was queso and pimento and a bunch of other stuff. They both were really good.
    The small town was quiet but we wandered around doing our usual afternoon paseo. The church was supposed to be nice, but it was closed. Next to the church was a layered replica of a section of a Roman road showing how the roads were made. That was interesting. There were some horses grazing in a field. That wasn't interesting. We wandered back to the albergue and had some quiet time in our room. Then dinner with grapes for desert. The grapes had seeds too small to spit out, so if we happened to poop along the trail we would be like Johnny Appleseed with grapes instead of apples.

On the way to Morille I asked dw if she wanted to stop for a rest in a shady spot. (it was getting hot)
   She said: "I'm hot and tired, but I'm good for awhile and there's nothing ahead. --- That's a metaphor for life and the best we can hope for."
   A bit later I said: "There's a car coming. --- There're two cars coming."
   dw: "There're three more coming."

Pico de la Duna cross

   "I think the second one that just passed was a hearse."
   "Probably a peregrino trying to cross the Meseta."

Before Morille we crossed the high point of the VDLP -- Pico de la Duena -- the highest point between Sevilla and Astorga. To mark the spot there's an iron cross atop a tall pole, where, since Celtic and Roman times, pilgrims have left a stone to ensure a safe passage across the mountains and to give thanks for a safe passage. The pole is behind a fence so the best you can do is throw a rock at the cross. We did, and we had a safe passage so it worked, but the rock throwing seemed irreverent.

Morille -- A librarian. Marion? 

We spent the night in Morille, a bedroom community for Salamanca. Like most bedroom communities there was nothing in town. One bar and that was it. Surprisingly there were several pieces of public art -- we thought some were very good. In the church yard was a modern Adoration of the Christ Child which we both liked, but it was crapped up with an unneeded explanatory sign stuck on the Christ Child. Sort of like nailing an explanation in the middle of Nude Descending a Staircase.

   On the way to Salamanca we stopped at Miranda de Azan looking for some coffee. After a bit we found an open bar. As we left the bartender came out, stopped us, and told us how to find a shortcut that saved us one or two kilometers. We managed to understand and follow his directions. This wasn't an unusual event. Throughout the walk we consistently found people were generous with their time in interacting with pilgrims -- even with peregrinos like us who barely spoke their language.

The top of the last hill before Salamanca has a fine view of the city and a plaque explaining the Battle of Salamanca (part of the 1812 Peninsula War) where Wellington crushed the French forces. Both the English and the French were prancing around in Spain as a result of Napoleon's Grand Plan which actually didn't work out very well -- for Napoleon and for Spain (Both the French and the English cheerfully shot up Spain and everyone in it)
   Leading into Salamanca, a Roman bridge crosses the Rio Tormes, and on the town end, a large stone bear with all his corners worn off stands on a pedestal.

The Vague Bear

   DJA: "Oh, that bear statue is the symbol of Salamanca. It pre-dates the Romans."
   dw: "So, who made it?"
   DJA: "I dunno. The Celts or somebody -- whoever the Romans stomped on."
   dw: "So losers made it."
   DJA: " Yeah. And that's probably why it looks so vague."

Art Nouveau/Deco Museum

Plateresque -- Called for it's resemblance to 

worked silver. 

We took a day off and toured the city: the Library (the sea shell building -- Casa de las Conchas), The Cathedral, the Art Nouveau/Art Deco Museum: It has a nice collection of styles, figurines, dolls, etc. although it is thin in drawing and painting. The collection is large, but so-so we thought. The building is stunning -- It has a large Tiffany style leaded glass central dome, and a monster 150' x 20' window -- also leaded glass -- forming one wall. It is amazing. We saw the small modern art museum, and the museum at the University. (University: 1218) It's a beautiful city.

   We visited the Convento De San Esteban with it's 100 foot high retablo. A museum room with assorted paintings, carvings, relics, monstrances and so on, and one highly unusual piece: a 2' tall statue of Archangel Michael literally stomping the crap out of the devil -- photos not allowed. Any description is inadequate.

?

They'll probably wear scrubs when doctoring. 

   As usual we did our paseo, ending near the University at a sidewalk table with a beer and a snack. We had taken our first sips and were enjoying the warm evening when we heard some chanting/yelling and then a group (20+) of University men marched by. Daubed with paint -- face, hair, and clothes -- all in a line. The one in front held his crotch, and each one following had his hand between the legs and holding the crotch of the guy ahead. Sort of like a conga line, except instead of hands on waist, it was hands on dick. The point was unclear. Over the next twenty minutes four additional groups marched by, smeared with paint and chanting. It seemed to be a final exam march. All but the first group were mixed sex and each painted group was followed by a group chanting but unpainted. In all there were a couple of hundred marchers. Earlier we watched a group of medical students -- in costume but mostly unpainted -- marching and celebrating the end of the term.  A wonderful, interesting, and beautiful city to take a rest day.

Plaza Mayor, Salamance -- temporary exhibit

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The largest domestic pig on record, "Big Bill", weighed 2,552 lbs. (1,158 kilos) If he was a truffle pig, I bet he ate every truffle he found. "Some Pig!" -- "Humble" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cZLT9KTWugw

___________________________

Puttock: Any of several birds of prey.
Futtock: Curved timbers forming the lower part of a ships frame.
Buttock: The fleshy, lower part of a person's torso. AKA -- your ass.
English can be odd, but how did this happen?
___________________________

Frankenstein entered a body building competition, but found he had seriously misunderstood the objective.
________

The word "nun" is just an "n" doing a forward roll.
________

What do you call a bear with no ears? --- A "B"

And so it goes.

Via De La Plata, Part V: A Village Sunday

As we did during our previous Caminos, we kept an eye out for snacking opportunities. Grapes were out as they were sprayed with something and we were sure the vineyard owners would dislike grazing peregrinos.  The one thing we did find was black berries. They were definitely black berries but some sort of inferior generic brand:  small, seedy, and tasteless. Otherwise we didn't find anything. I did try a raw acorn -- it was awful . I didn't try a chestnut so I can't report on those.
   For hundreds of years much of the Via de la Plata was also the Canada Real de la Plata -- a herding trail. We decided that the thousands of cows, sheep, and goats over-grazed and wiped out all of the good stuff.

Leaving Banos de Montemayor

Immediately out of Banos, the trail makes a long moderate climb, followed by forty kilometers of a hilly region. Nothing too steep or long but consistently hilly (and much greener than further south).  We passed more Roman stuff: two bridges -- the single arch one was a bit off the trail and seemed to be original (even the walking surface) and we passed so many miliarios that we stopped taking pictures of them. Though the trail is scenically modest we continued to find it interesting for its history and sense of isolation. The lack of spectacle encouraged us to pay attention to the details and the fauna and flora which carried their own rewards.

Around noon we entered Calzada Del Bejar and from the start were irritated by the place. First, a tout for an albergue accosted us and gave a really hard sell trying to get us to stop at his place. It was way too early and he was just trying to make a living, but still --- we had to be rude to get rid of him. A couple of blocks later we passed a guy holding a moderately aggressive dog. Just as we passed he let the damned thing loose and it made a couple of feigned attacks and tried to nip our heels -- the asshat just ignored it. At the other end of town we passed two women sitting in their doorway and talking with two men. One woman was holding a puppy and one of the guys kept pulling its tail hard enough to make it yelp, then he would laugh  --- such a manly humorist.
     There was nothing about Calzada Del Bejar that tempted us to stop, but it was supposed to have a bar, we needed coffee, and the next coffee possibility was hours away.
     At the edge of town we turned back, went up a side street and did find a bar -- it was closed. 
   
     The travails of the Camino.
    
     We sat at one of the bar's shaded outside tables and tucked into our lunch: bread, cheese, and an apple. Halfway through we were saved as the owner came and opened the bar -- so we got our coffee con leche (two each) as well as our go-to dessert: Magnum Blanco Mini ice cream bars. And as we sat enjoying our lunch (the day wasn't hot yet, just pleasantly warm) the village took a turn for the better.
   A giant ground shaking front loader pulled up beside the bar, did some maneuvering to get in just the right spot and shut down. The driver entered the bar.
   There was a steady stream of old guys coming in for a beer or wine or coffee or a coke, and a chat. Some came and stayed, some left, some left  then returned. A few gave the outside table-soccer men a spin but none started playing.
   An older guy in a yellow jersey (no helmet) rode by on a folding bicycle -- he didn't stop, but he did four more around the town circuits.
   A woman across the town square started mopping the outside walls of her house -- her mop had an extra long handle.

 A bread truck pulled up, parked, the driver sold a few loaves, then entered the bar for a drink and a chat. 

  The bar's music started: a Spanish cover band blasting "Wild Thing" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L9m3w5Teygs.
  Three cows came running up the street followed by a young woman in black running shorts and a black tank top -- sprinting to get ahead of the cows to direct them onto a side street.
  She succeeded, then the initial three cows were followed by twelve more -- urged on by an older guy and a dog.
  The annoying dog kept running around pestering people.
   At random people would come and go, cars would come and go. An older guy drove up, had half a drink and a chat with a friend then drove away, leaving his drink on the table. A bit later he came back with his wife, drank most (but not all) of his drink, then left again.
   The annoying little village Calzada Del Bejar had surprisingly turned into a Sunday noon happening place -- then the church bell started.
  The church bell rang, rang, and rang some more. I asked dw: "Do you think they're ever going to get tired of ringing that thing?" Finally, we put on our packs and left. And the bell kept ringing. (we're going to keep ringing this bell until YOU DAMN WELL COME TO CHURCH) and the bell kept ringing. When we were nearly out of earshot (twenty minutes if it was a second) the bell stopped and we might have heard a faint, but definite cheer from the village.

A few miles after Calzada Del Bejar

 

A different lunch and writing notes for the blog

N.B. -- The Magnum Blanco Mini is 100ml and sells for 1 euro. The Magnum Blanco Regular is 180ml and sells for 2 euros. Don't be fooled -- the mini is clearly the better deal. With both, the sticks are the vague "8" shape and can be used to eat yogurt.

____________________

----the king it is who tolls

And he rolls, rolls, rolls,
Rolls
A Paean from the Bells!
And his merry bosom swells
With the Paean of the bells!
And he dances, and he yells,
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the Paean of the bells ---
Of the bells:
Keeping Time, time, time
In a sort of Runic thyme,
To the sobbing of the bells ---
Keeping time, time, time
As he knells, knells, knells,
In a happy Runic rhyme,

To the rolling of the bells
Of the bells, bells, bells:

To the tolling of the bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells ---
To the moaning and groaning of the bells.
   EDGAR ALLAN POE
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The symbol & is a combination of the Latin letters "e" and "t" -- "et" -- meaning "and". The word "ampersand" is a corruption of  "and 'per se' (by itself) and" and the symbol was originally used to distinguish a letter from a word -- such as "a" as the letter, or "a" as the word -- a dog -- for example. All of this is leading to the fact that the ampersand (&) looks like a dog dragging its butt across the floor.
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The Violaceous Trogon (a bird native to southern Mexico, and central and northern South America) will sometimes dig a hole for its nest in an active wasps nest.
____________________

No matter how old or young a person is, with discipline that person can go without food for the rest of their lives.
____________________

Pavlov was once sitting in a bar having a drink. The phone rang and he jumped up and said: "Damn, I forgot to feed the dogs."
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Not the bell, but one we got to ring at a later date. We didn't keep it up for 40 minutes.

 
and so it goes. DJA



  

Via De La Plata, Part IV: Galisteo Takes Our Measure

Oak Savanna

Goat, nosh nosh

   Again the walk was mostly through Holm oak savannas, and again it was hot. Early enough in the day that we were still interested in such things, we saw a bunny. It ran across the trail and crouched in some grass, motionless and hiding. After  a few moments it realized we were watching -- trying to hide wasn't working -- so it gave a leap, crawled under a fence and bounded away. Like the Via Podensis and the Via Frances animal sightings have been rare (aside from cows. sheep, goats, dogs, and town cats) so watching the bunny was a nice little interlude.

Galisteo

   In the Bunny Region, for several kilometers we walked along a tall, extra heavy double fence with security cameras on tall poles. It was a private hunting preserve, but even with the fence the bunny managed to escape. We didn't see anything behind the fence, but with all the security I suspect it was an area for staged hunts of exotic animals (bunny hunts perhaps a free extra). Whatever it is it's a very exclusive area.

These were steeper than they look

    About 1pm we arrived at Galisteo which, with its wall, is an interesting village. The town dates to Roman times and the town wall is intact from the Moors in the 13th century. The ramparts are particularly interesting as they haven't had any new gates cut through them. They are as they were in the beginning. You can climb stone stairs and walk the ramparts, pretend you're going to repel the Christians or whoever needs repelling, or don't pretend, just enjoy the view and wonder how you're going to get down. The stairs are steep, narrow, straight, and 35 feet high with no railing  We were hot, tired, and encumbered with packs and walking sticks, so the climb was sort of scary (hands were involved in the climb).
   dw: "How are we going to get down?"
   DJA: "Unless we find something better, I'm going to tie my sticks to my pack and back down. I'm sure not going to try to just walk down."

As we walked the wall we found a different staircase with a railing -- we were much relieved.
   The town was very quiet, pleasant, and except for the wall undistinguished, but it does have a church sporting a weird steeple. 

The pointy steeple is stuck on top of the square steeple

   This day was particularly hot (dw's bete noir), but sitting for awhile in shade allowed her to recover.  One bar was open where dw asked the bartender to call a taxi for us. We had been told the next 7K to our stop for the night (Carcaboso)  was along a very narrow shoulder less road -- As the taxi driver said: "Muy pelegroso!" and indeed it was. We felt a bit guilty about calling a cab as the VdlP is supposed to be a walk rather than a ride, but the cab's air-conditioning quickly put paid to such feelings, and besides, the ride was only 7K.

I conducted a small, informal survey concerning a favorite dessert: flan. The best to this point was at Aldea Del Cano, Bar Las Vegas -- I gave it a 4 out of 5, leaving room to go higher. Grimaldo: 2 out of 5, little caramel and watery -- it got a 2 only because I needed room to go lower. Carcaboso: 3 out of 5 -- good flavor and caramel but oddly lumpy.
   
    The legs at the foot of the bed in Carcaboso's albergue were set back two feet. Good for not stubbing your toes, but when I forgot and sat on the foot, the head would spring up and hurl the pillows at the back of my head -- it was like a poltergeist attack.

Roman bridge

    Along with the granite-block trail markers, there are the common yellow arrows, and an occasional large (a ton or more) granite slab with information about the area and the trail. The info is usually (and unusually) translated into English. Extremadura went to a great deal of trouble to renovate, mark, and maintain the VdlP. This portion of the trail has little of the splendid natural scenery that other Caminos have but the trail is consistently interesting with a great deal of history on display and each day's scenery is subtly different. There are so many bits and pieces of ruins that the guide books only discuss the larger sites. ("Oh, that old thing? That's just a 2000 year old Roman bridge. See one, you've seen them all.")

Much of the facing has been lost, and the top is heavily eroded

   We arrived at Caparra, site of the symbol of the VdlP: a monumental four sided arch (c.100 A.D.) From photos we had seen, I expected the arch to be an isolated one off, but there are ruins of a significant Roman town. The site has been excavated and developed with walk-ways, large glass platforms elevated above the ruins and good information plaques. The whole thing is in the middle of nowhere which is possibly why it was abandoned. (A couple of toga-clad Romans walking down a hot dusty street: "Man, why the hell did we build a town here?" "I dunno. Why don't we just leave?" So they did.)

    Again we called for a ride. This time to the Asturias hostel -- a common pilgrim ploy as the hostel is several Ks off the camino (and the ride is free -- provided by the hostel). This particular ride didn't save any walking distance as the next day we needed to walk back to the camino. I was glad for the ride as I was sick. I put on my warmest clothes, wrapped myself in a blanket and shivered as dw was comfortable sitting in her skivvies and reading.  I had no appetite and suffered greatly though bravely. I soaked the sheets with night sweats (the poor room maid) but the next day I felt better and with two subsequent short walking days recovered fully.

Hervas

   Further along we again left the camino proper (walking this time) to visit Hervas, the site of an ancient Jewish village. It proved to be one of the more interesting villages on the VdlP. The old town was built on rock outcroppings so buildings commonly have visible bed rock as part of their foundations. The streets have natural speed-bumps as the bed rock was only partly chipped away. Many of the streets are so narrow dw could spread her arms and touch buildings on both sides and the alleys were so narrow my shoulders touched both sides. Cramped quarters.

Hervas

   As we wandered around, we heard drumming so we headed for the sound and caught a parade in honor of Diane (some local thing, not dw). We arrived at a small square and watched the parade form up. A small band accompanied the drums, followed by a ten foot tall king and queen (big paper mache heads with a cloth body -- person inside) -- as they started to march, ten other men donned other large paper mache heads and a 10 year old  boy in a red costume ran around (pleased with whatever role he played). It was a fun parade that left us clueless as we couldn't tell if it was in honor of Diane The Huntress, Ste. Diane (?), or some other Diane or Dianne.

   The same day we continued on to Banos de Montemayor where we stopped for the night. Banos has been a place to "take the waters" since Roman times. We didn't see anyplace that offered walk-in massages (particularly for our feet) so we didn't indulge but there were many older people wandering around with canes, walkers, or wheel chairs dressed in bathrobes so it seems there was opportunity for healthful massages and baths.   Banos is an attractive town though there wasn't much going on if you weren't taking the waters. Many stores were closed when we did our paseo but still we could have bought a few tatty souvenirs had we wanted, and we did find an open grocery and two open bars. Even though we were massage less we went to bed happy.

TRIVIA: The name Spain derives from the Latin Hispania which in turn probably derives from the Phoenician "i-shephan-I'm" ; meaning "island, or coast of rabbits". Rabbits were endemic to the Iberian peninsula but weren't commonly found elsewhere until the Phoenicians began exporting them from Spain. Proof of Spain as Europe's first rabbit warren is a 2.5 million year old fossil of a rabbit found near Granada.

A WORD: Spanghew -- to strike and cause to fly in the air, especially frogs and toads

ANIMALS: A beaver has such sharp teeth that American Indians once used them for knives (just the front teeth, not the whole animal), and a beaver's butt is supposed to smell like vanilla. I don't think I will ever check that out.

And so it goes. DJA