France-Spain 

Late Summer 2025

Week 3
 
4 September - 9 September

 

 

WEEK 3

Day 15 - Thursday 4 September -Torquemada to Tordesillas - 110 km / 68 mls

My hostal last night was perfectly nice, even if the Señora was a bit stern about the booking in. My dinner was simple, but very tasty. I slept well, even though the chattering out on the street didn’t subside until 1:00 am. I was up by 8:00 am and on the road by 9:30 am, the plan being to get past Valladolid to Tordesillas on the banks of the River Duoro, where there is both a Parador and a campground ! I was tempted to treat myself to the Parador, but have settled on the campground. TBH the camping is okay if the weather is fine, it solves the issue of what to do about the bike and all the negotiations that go on at hotels, and it’s much more of a canvas for seeing people, observing all kinds of behaviours and coming up with generalisations. Like tonight, at the perfectly nice restaurant at the campsite - actually a very, very good restaurant - at the next table to me was an oik of a German, drunk, smoking, loud and everything that a diet of sauerkraut and sausages can produce. Then when he left, a couple of dominant, bossy women arrived with an aggressive and loud dog, and spent the whole time fussing over the dog and trying to get it behave. And loud and squealing kids at 10 pm running around like little precious princesses. Nowt as queer as folk. But, the food was very good, a nice mushroom risotto with some steak strips, and a salad of cheese and jamon.

Tomorrow, I will head further on south to Salamanca, and camp the night there, and then I will have to think and plan carefully as to the best way to make sure that I get to Faro on Wednesday next. I think it will mean me having to jump a train somewhere like Placensia or Zafra and make up a couple of days, and then wherever I land cycle from there west to the border at Ayamonte, and then take the ferry over to Portugal. I won’t cycle from the border to Faro because the road that I would need to take is something like out of the Third World. I did it last year, and it was horrendous. So, I will hop the train to Faro. Spanish roads are much more developed, and the driving much more disciplined than is the case in Portugal.

Today’s ride was much more pleasant and easier than yesterday, less hills, and the wind was much diminished, although still a little breeze to my face. I changed my preference on my Komoot app to road cycling rather than touring, and I think that made a difference in keeping me on tarmac roads rather than on tracks. Even still, I did about a third of today’s trip on dusty tracks, and both me, the bike and my bags were covered in white chalky dust by the end of the day, I passed through Valladolid, which is really scrappy on the outskirts to the north, lots of derelict industrial stuff, but a nice historic centre, and then a pleasant ride out to the south, which is definitely the des res bit of Valladolid. Mostly apartments, which seems to be the style of habitation in Spanish cities, even suburbs. Tordesillas is on the River Duoro, as is tonight’s campground, and the wine I had this evening with my dinner is a Duoro Tinto. Very nice.

And, at 10:30 pm as I prepare to take to my tent, there are still two year olds up and about and making a lot of noise. And the barking dog.

 

Day 16 - Friday 5  September - Tordesillas - Salamanca - 90 kms / 55 mls


There was a noisy family out for a weekend of camping near me last night, and they didn’t start to eat until 11 pm and were still at it at 1 am.  Good job that when I take out my hearing aid, I can barely hear anything, so it didn’t stop me going to sleep.  Exercise and a tipple of Tinto helps as well.

My route today was to take me close to Salamanca, where I have been many times before, and to a camping ground along the river.  The Komoot routing still took me on some very difficult tracks, in the morning, and later as I approached Salamanca.  The morning tracks were really quite tricky, and it took me over 2 hours to do about ten miles.  I suppose I could have bombed along , but not only is it uncomfortable, I really don’t want to slip and fall, certainly not at my age, so I take it easy these days on surfaces like that.  Also, they are very remote, so you don’t want to be in trouble in the midst of cares and acres of vineyards with nobody coming along for hours.  So prudence. Later I was directed on to some very nice roads, quiet with wide margins, and bowled along, although there were some steep climbs as well.  The run in to Salamanca was a delight,m until I ended up on tracks again for the last few miles.  Weather was lovely, just a little breeze to keep me cool.  

The last time I was in Salamanca I stayed at The Parador, and very nice it was as well, but tonight I will be camping.  What amazes me about these Spanish campsites is that they always have a very nice restaurant for the happy campers.  Spaniards do not dumb down when it comes to eating.  The restaurant was fully booked, but I could get a table in the bar, and was served very fine food - a small pot of tripe, which was’t as earthy as the tripe I had in France, some croquettes, some fried ravioli with shrimp inside, and some pork tacos, all as small dishes, just a bite on each.  But, very nice.  Even though fully booked, the restaurant was never more than a third full throughout the evening, and I guess it’s to do again with a drama chef who wants to strictly control the flow of food, but the daft thing is that people like me were coming in to the bar and ordering the same food. Someone please explain !

This campsite was quiet, I slept well, and all was good with the world.

 

Day 17 -Saturday 6 September - Salamanca - Bejar - 90 kms / 55 mls

A nice ride today in very pleasant weather, and no rough tracks !  The route out of Salamanca had a good cycle route, and then the road was wide, good margin and not busy.  I was directed off that main road on to some provincial roads that took me over some steep climbs, up 600 meters in the morning, and then another 600 meter climb as I approached Bejar.  The countryside is very expansive with wide horizons, lots of wheat already harvested, and then in to granite country and over a range of Sierra to Bejar, which is itself not exactly flat !  I lucked out at lunchtime in a little town that I came across, where there was a bar at which I was able to get some lunch and stock up on water, but so often in these little towns and villages there is nothing on offer.  I wonder, outside bigger towns, where people shop and get groceries, because I struggle to find anywhere most days.  Mind you, there is always a pharmacy in most of these places !  Sometimes a local bar, which will offer simple tapas.  It’s always a daily concern as to where to stock up along the route.

I had a quick swing around the historic centre of Salamanca, but it isn’t that huge, and like most historic and lovely towns in Spain is encircled by modern apartments and industrial bits, not pretty.  You have to be determined to get to the historic centre.  I think Salamanca claims to have the oldest medical school, perhaps even university, which won’t make Oxbridge happy.

Notwithstanding the climbs, today’s ride saw me in Bejar by 5 pm, and I’m in in a small hostal.  It’s given me time to work out the next few days so that I can be in Faro Portugal by Wednesday.  So, I’ll cycle to Plasencia tomorrow, Sunday, camp there, then get a train on Monday to Seville (5 hours !), stay a night there in an Airbnb, then Tuesday take a train to Huelva early in the morning, from where I will cycle to Ayamonte, and hopefully late Tuesday afternoon I will take the short ferry over to Portugal Vila Real de Santo Antonio and then a train to Faro, and then a quick cycle to Casa de Amendoeiras to arrive on Tuesday night.  Well, that’s the plan, and I’ll be chuffed if it all works out after all my planning !  That gives me time on Wednesday to pick up a car at the airport and get ready for a week relaxing in the sun.  Which will probably also mean a few days of bicycle maintenance, cleaning and packing for the return flight.

There’s a Fiesta del Pueblo tonight in Bejar, so it’s very busy and lively, everybody out and promenading, all kinds of stalls and entertainments.  I found a restaurant for dinner, but the kitchen didn’t open until 9 pm, so I took and array of the very interesting tapas dishes that were available at the bar, pretty much all offal, and very tasty, especially the pig’s snout two ways (braised and deep fried - very nice) and I think some kind of liver, but whether it was pig / beef / lamb or chicken I could not tell. I guess it’s best sometimes not to think about what bit of the animal you are eating, just enjoy it. The bar man was very happy that I was trying out their local dishes and specialities. Can you imagine serving pig’s snout at one’s dinner party ?!

And, I will enjoy my simple hostal bed, and an opportunity to do more than my basic ablutions when I am camping, to properly wash out a few things, and get them to dry.  Luxury !

 

Day 18 - Sunday 7 September - Bejar to Plasencia - 60kms / 40 mls

I had a gentle start this morning, because I didn’t have far to go to Plasencia, and much of it is on a Vias Verdes which is mostly downhill, a repurposed  part of the Salamanca to Plasencia railway line.  It was pleasant and easy riding after the hills of yesterday. It brought me down from the Sierra that I climbed up to most of yesterday, with some wonderful views along the route.  I wanted to get to Plasencia by just before 2 pm so that I might get the direct train to Seville, although I had reason to believe that there were works happening that might occasion a bus for part of the journey, which would make taking the bike an impossibility.  The stern woman at the station - I blame Franco and the Falangists for this Spanish tendency to rigourism and harshness - was not having any of it, and would only sell me a ticket with bike reservation for tomorrow, Monday, which was my fallback plan anyhow.  So, that is what I will do, although tomorrow is a regional holiday in Extramadura, so here’s hoping that the train happens !

I was going to camp, but the weather is a bit damp today, although still very warm, and I don’t like being damp in my tent.  So, I’ve take to a little, rather modern, hostal near the station, where Hector the factotum was very helpful in welcoming me and saying that the bike wasn’t a problem and giving me a safe storage for it.  A little tapas at a bar down the road, and a glass of Tinto, has set me up for a pleasant and soporific afternoon, and then later this evening I will take a walk and see what Plasencia has to offer.  I’m actually glad of this little pause, because I have been going without much stop for the last couple of weeks, so I will enjoy my enforced idleness until I get the train to Seville tomorrow at lunchtime.. Extramadura fiesta permitting !

Plasencia is an up and down town, on a river, and with most old towns has a pleasant historic centre, but surrounded by a ribbon of industrial areas and masses of apartments.  I’ve been here before in 2021 on my Ruta de la Plata trip and stayed in the Parador, which was lovely.  I did think about that for tonight, but tbh when I’m all alone it seems like a waste to do something special like that and be all Billy no mates. Hence my nice hostal for tonight. I’m sure there is lots to explore here, but to be honest I’m not in tourist mood.  My main interest when I’m cycling is the route, the countryside, the landscape, the trails, people watching, and what takes my fancy to eat and drink. I’m having my dinner in the Plaza Major this evening, and as you would expect it is buzzing, everybody out and about, enjoying a drink and a good natter.  They will be here until late, I’m sure, whereas I will be off to my bed at a decent hour.  Next question is what to eat, and what to drink !

The Spanish are very convivial, and like to gather together, mostly in the evenings.  It seems to be part of the timetable for the day to set out and go for a walk and gather in some square, usually for a nibble and a drink.  I’m not sure how the bars and cafes make money, because people sit over an inexpensive drink - a wine at 2 euro, say - and talk and occupy a table for hours.  I guess if they live in the apartments that I’ve seen with no real space, or garden, then they need to get out and about.  Groups are very often family and multi-generational, including little toddlers out and about until very late. The only oik I’ve seen on my trip has been a German.  The Spaniards, although they can be loud, are pleasant and courteous.  But, then there is that rigourism and authoritarianism and telling you the rules stuff I’ve come across, usually from people sitting at desks.  In most of the parts of Spain I’ve been this trip the population is homogeneous.  I think you have to go in to the big towns and cities to see much diversity.  I notice those things living in Birmingham, which is a very diverse city, and increasingly Pakistani origin Muslim, with other sizeable Sikh, Hindu, Hong Kong Chinese communities, as well as smaller groups of Horn of Africa people, like Somalis and Eritreans.  Oh, and of course, quite a number of Afghans, especially over the last few years.  And then there’s Edgbaston’s finest and best !

THIS IS THE WORLD ACCORDING TO CHRIS - so please feel free to skip !  I’ve been catching up on the news as I wait upon my train, and how thoroughly depressing it all is.  Reform has just had its conference in Birmingham, only a mile from where I live, and I’ve been watching the razzmatazz surrounding Farage.  He/They, I believe, are quite dangerous.  Their playbook is that of most aspiring right wing / authoritarian / fascist types, namely to home in on a single issue that appeals to the fears and anxieties of people, and that, of course, is immigration, especially illegal immigration and in particular The Boats (which only constitute 4% or annual immigration in to the UK, the other 96% being through legal channels). They know nothing about economics, social policy, foreign policy, world events.  Even on immigration, their broad brush declarations about the issue don’t survive the test of forensic investigation and questioning.  It’s all headline stuff.  Mind you, they are right at identifying immigration as a major issue for the UK, indeed as it is for much of Western Europe.  Whether you like it or not, immigration has the capacity to change, and has already done so, the character, face, culture, even values of the UK.  Largely it’s been left by successive governments to happen in a laissez faire way over the last decades, and some of those chickens are coming home to roost - lack of integration and assimilation, separation of communities, challenges to British values, fear between communities, and so on.  I recognise that a certain amount of immigration is necessary, perhaps even good, for a modern society and economy, but in a controlled and managed way, in terms of numbers, expectations of both immigrants and the settled communities, and above all with an insistence that the values of the UK are not an optional extra for new comers to accept, but are an integral and essential element and expectation if they wish to come to live here - such as respect for other people and communities, respect for women, diversity, sexuality, other faiths, British laws and values and culture.  That means a commitment to becoming British themselves, even while at the same time quite legitimately having cultural respect for their own backgrounds and origins.  Without that as a prerequisite, immigration is always going to be a problem and seen as a threat and will engender fear and anxiety, which has the capacity to morph in to violence between communities.  Which the likes of Farage and Reform will feed on.  Reform is not the answer to this problem.  But, I really hope that the Labour Government will find a way of gripping this issue and settling fears and anxieties, as well as ensuring managed and integrated immigration, otherwise we are in for a very difficult and dangerous time, for all communities.  

Of course, most emigration would not be happening if the places where people emigrate from were places of peace, stability and hope where people can see a safe and prosperous future for themselves and their children.  You don’t leave family and home if it is a good place for you.  So, perhaps more focus and interest on making those places safe and prosperous would be a good starting point ?. Yes, I know, very idealistic, but why not ?

 

Day 19 - 8 September - Plascencia to Seville (train)

The Plaza Mayor in Plascencia was lively last night when I left it before 10 pm, still lots of families out, lots of kids running and playing about. It’s a fiesta in this part of Extramadura today, Monday, so I guess nobody had to be in bed early last night. I enjoyed a very nice tuna salad for my supper. My hotel was on one of the roads out of town, only a mile or so from the centre, and even though it didn’t look up to much from the outside, it was really a nice place, recently modernised and I couldn’t have asked for more for only 50 euros for the night. It was quiet, and I had a good sleep, not having to be up at first light to get on my bike, because my train from Plasencia to Seville isn’t until 2:00 pm, so I have had time for a leisurely breakfast and a trip in to Plasencia old town to have a quick look at the sights, have a coffee in the Plaza Mayor and then a light bite of lunch before boarding the train, which in spite of the regional holiday, is still running and is on time. It will get me in to Seville for just before 7:00 pm, and then a quick ride to my Airbnb and time for a spot of supper before to bed. Tomorrow will be a train ride to Huelva, then 50 kms / 30 miles on the bike to the border and a ferry across the river to Portugal, then a train to Faro.

The train journey is through some spectacular countryside, through Caceres, Merida and on south. There are vast expanses of olive groves, vineyards, and what I take to be cork trees. It is hot, dry and dusty countryside for the first part, but then cuts through the mountains and descends down to the plain and Seville. The latter part of the journey was spectacular on a winding single track and must have been difficult to construct all those years ago. The train ride was an experience and worth the ride. I’d like to have cycled it, but time is against me, hence hopping the train today. This is the only train of the day which goes directly to Seville on which I can take my bike, with a reservation. All the other trains go via Madrid, and then on to a fast train to Seville on which you cannot take a bicycle unless it is boxed. Too much faff, so it’s the slow train today for me. The train is populated mainly by young people. You know, they are all very well behaved, still chattering and nattering as Spaniards do, but courteous and polite. Not a can of larger in sight. Get on a train in the UK with the same demographic and it would be a different picture. Or so my experience tells me.

My Airbnb in Seville is very central, just around the corner from El Corte Ingles (I guess the Spanish equivalent of John Lewis) and a feature of most big Spanish cities. It’s in a courtyard, so very quiet. Dinner was around the corner at a bodega, and cost me 25 euros for a tomato and tuna salad, a half portion of paella, a half portion of fried sardines, a bottle of fizzy water, a glass of fino sherry, a glass of red wine, bread, a coffee, etc etc. The half portions were more than enough. That would cost at least double, if not more, if I had it at The Highfield or The Physician or Chapter just up the road from me at home. Spain is very inexpensive in many respects. However, I guess if you are paid Spanish wages, which are much lower than in the UK, then you wouldn’t necessarily see it that way. But for me, it’s a good deal. As was France, which only a few years ago I always thought of as silly expensive, but the last couple of years it has seemed very reasonable. I think because our cost of living in the UK has skyrocketed over the last three or four years, so going elsewhere seems not so expensive for us these days.

This morning as I was having my coffee in the Plaza Mayor I was reading Rod Liddle in The Spectator. I read The Spectator every week, not that it necessarily reflects my politics and world view, but because it is generally such good journalism and is thought provoking. Rod Liddle especially. He was writing today about the challenges and problems occasioned by immigration and especially integration and assimilation, which I mentioned in passing yesterday ! And, it made me even more convinced that this issue of immigration / integration / assimilation / cultural and religious challenge is one that is increasingly a matter of the moment for huge numbers of people in the UK. Liddle thinks that the Union Jack phenomenon and the seeming popularity of Reform in the polls is a drawing of a line in the sand by many people. Enough is enough, people are saying. Not just about numbers, but also about the changes wrought on British culture and society by mass immigration. When people start thinking and acting like that, then there is the distinct possibility of trouble for all. As I have already said, I hope the Government has a plan to make sure that people don’t think that the line in the sand has been crossed, and that they find a way to prevent people reacting negatively if they feel it has been. Or we, that is all communities, could be in for more than a spot of bother. Tinderbox Britain they are calling it.

 

Day 20 - 9 September - Seville to Huelva (train); Huelva to Ayamonte (bike) 60 kms/40 mls; Ayamonte to Vila Real de Santo Antonia (ferry); Vila Real de Santo Antonia to Faro (train); Faro to Almancil (bike) 15 kms/10 mls

Well, as you can see, Tuesday’s travelling was a rather mix of things - train / ferry / bike.  But, it all worked out, which gives me great satisfaction. I like things to work according to plan.  My Airbnb in Seville was pleasant, central, and only about a 10 minute ride to the station.  At 8 am in the morning Seville was very quiet.  I don’t think Spaniards do early mornings, well,  no surprise given that they are up until all hours the night before.  The train to Huelva was about 90 minutes, not exactly speeding along, but it got me there in good time, and I was able to set off out of Huelva along a nice dedicated and separated bike path which ran alongside the main auto via. Unlike the last time I was there and ended up going across the estuary on the Autovia, much to the consternation of drivers.  I managed to get away with it though, and the Guardia Civil didn’t haul me in. The route then took me essentially on the main N road, which was fine because it has a wide shoulder and is probably safer than some smaller roads with no shoulder  I could have meandered along the coastal route, but I wanted to get to the border as quickly as possible so I could get the ferry, and I just managed to get the 3:00 pm ferry and was on the Spanish side some twenty minutes or so later and able to catch the next train to Faro.  The train was late in departing which was to my advantage, so I was able to get the 2:30 pm Spanish time train (the hour goes back an hour on crossing the border / Portugal is same time as UK currently) and was in Faro about an hour later.

Spanish trains are pretty swish and modern, even the local ones.  Portuguese trains are like something you’d find in The Third World, old, rackety, and not user friendly.  The mainline train to Lisbon looks modern, but it has to trundle along old lines around here.  The climb up to the carriage is difficult, especially with a bike.  There was no ability to buy a ticket at the station, so I got one from the conductor who would not take my card, saying it was only cash when buying on the train.   He was selling card purchases to the Portuguese but only cash to the foreigners. I think I know what happened to that cash.  And no ticket proffered.  I didn’t say anything because I was more interested in making sure my bike was on the train, so I kept shtum.  The train, the conductor, even the locals, gave a sense of having moved not just the short distance across the Spain / Portugal border but in to a completely different cultural dimension.  Bits of Portugal are still pretty feral, I observe.  Nice in Lisbon, Porto, posh bits of the Algarve, but outside of that…. ?  Still, most importantly Portugal has the sun, good food and wine, and the people are pleasant.  Oh, and lots of golf, if you are in to that kind of thing.

Such was the hassle on the train that when I arrived at Faro, I had been thinking I’d get the train to Almancil, but decided to cycle instead,  past the airport and along the coastal path and through all the nice villa and golf places.  The trip on the roads reminded me why I generally don’t like cycling in Portugal, because they are careless and mad on the roads.  Very different to what it is like in Spain, where generally driving is pretty disciplined, especially around cyclists.  Maybe Franco, fascism, the Guardia Civil and all that stuff has done something good in Spain.  Not the case in Portugal.  One correspondent tells me that the difference between Spain and Portgual is that in Spain if a motorist hits cyclist the presumtion in law is that the motorist is at fault, unless there are clear indications that the cyclist did something wrong.  So, Spanish drivers are careful around cyclists.  Not so in Portugal !  Not so in the UK where so often motorists who kill or injure cyclists (and pedestrians) find themselves being given minimum sentences, and are able to get back behind the wheel in pretty short order.

And, so I arrived safely and in one piece at Case das Amendocieras, to a beautiful blue sky, lots of sun, and a gentle breeze.  And relax…. !

 

 

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