A Washout in Portugal

It was only a short journey along the Autovia de Castilla and within half an hour we were crossing the border into Portugal. We hadn’t brought our passports with us but this wasn’t a problem and at the border checkpoint we were waved through by the border guards who were more interested in the freight lorries that were passing through. We were heading for the city of Guarda, about thirty kilometres away, but the closer we got the worse the weather became and by the time we arrived the city was completely obscured by grey clouds and drenching rain so we carried on by and continued our drive through a gloriously wooded ravine with spectacular views on both sides. We were heading for the town of Covilhã but as this is one of the highest towns in all of Portugal there was no sign of any improvement in the weather as we drove into the clouds and we really didn’t fancy wandering around in the rain so we turned the car around and returned to Spain.

As we approached the border the weather started to improve and as we crossed through the clouds opened like curtains and shards of sunlight broke through again and for a few kilometres we drove in bright sunshine again and we were pleased to see the black disappearing in the rear view mirror as we returned to Ciudad Rodrigo. On the way we stopped at a curious roadside supermarket, which turned out not to have the things we really wanted but did have an interesting section selling rifles and ammunition.

The sun didn’t last long and when we returned the sky was a milky white and it was quite cool so a little later than planned we looked for somewhere for lunch. This wasn’t easy because it was mid afternoon siesta time so there was not a lot of choice but we found a small place down a side street that was still open where we had some tapas dishes and a cerveza.

After lunch we walked around the honey coloured streets but we had to concede that the fine weather had given up for the day and with cloud thickening all the time in what was becoming a very dreary sky we returned to the hotel where we had a drink in the bar, Kim thrashed me at cards and watched a massive rain storm that made us glad to be inside.

For evening meal we went to the Hotel Conde Rodrigo. It wasn’t open at eight o’clock when we arrived and they told us to come back in half an hour. It didn’t look very busy and I think they rather hoped that we either wouldn’t bother or alternatively would find somewhere else instead. But we weren’t going to be put off that easily so after a drink in the Plaza Mayor we returned and were indeed the only customers in the place. We were glad however that we hadn’t been diverted because the hotel served an excellent menu del dia and at a very reasonable price.

In the night it rained heavily again and there was a dramatic electrical storm and in the early hours of the morning we were worried that prospects didn’t look good for the next day.

Castilla y Leon

A few weeks after returning from Castilla-la Mancha to the south of Madrid we were returning to Spain and this time to Castilla y Leon to the north of the capital. We had been here in March this year to Ávila and Segovia but this time we were going further north and west, flying in to Valladolid and staying in the small city of Ciudad Rodrigo. We had been looking forward too this because Castilla y Leon is as far away from the coastal strip as it is possible to get and is home to half of Spain’s cultural heritage sites including seven UNESCO World Heritage Sites, over two hundred castles and eleven magnificent cathedrals. It is the birthplace of the Spanish language, which after Chinese and Hindi is the third most common language in the World just ahead of English.

We had a late morning flight and the plane took off into a crisp blue sky with scattered clouds over fresh green fields and autumn gold deciduous woods that looked as though they were lying under a generous sprinkling of brown sugar. As we flew south the clouds increased and there was nothing to see until we began to descend toward Valladolid where they began to break into various patchy fragments and below us we could see large colourful fields, russet, grey, cream and yellow broken now and again by bottle green forests, shimmering blue lakes and occasional villages with ochre tiled roofs.

Valladolid airport is only small with limited facilities but there was a sign apologising for this and promising imminent improvements. We collected a steel grey Seat Ibiza from the Avis rental car office and set off immediately on the two hundred-kilometre drive to Ciudad Rodrigo.

There were plenty of things to stop and see along the way but it was mid afternoon and we were in a hurry to get to our destination so we took the Autovia de Castilla and with virtually no traffic to share the road with had an easy journey all of the way. As it was Sunday and we worried about shops being open we stopped as soon as we could at a motorway service station and bought beer, wine and snacks and then carried on. We were crossing the Meseta, the great central plain of interior Spain, which at two hundred and ten thousand square kilometres makes up forty percent of the country and has an average altitude of six hundred and fifty metres. It is split in two by the Sistema Central, the Guadarrama and Gredos mountain ranges, creating Old Castile to the north (Castilla y Leon) and New Castile to the south (Castilla La Mancha). The northern 'submeseta' is the higher of the two at over eight hundred metres and coming from below sea level in Lincolnshire I worried that we might require oxygen cylinders.

After about half way we passed by Salamanca and we could see its golden coloured cathedrals standing proud and high above the city and after that the landscape began to change. We left behind the pretty coloured fields and entered a different environment of green fields and woodlands and more and more livestock. After a couple of hours of really enjoyable motoring we came to Ciudad Rodrigo, which is the last city in Spain before reaching Portugal, a fortress city built to protect the western border of the country and as we approached we could see the walled city and its fortifications standing on a rocky outcrop in a commanding defensive position.

I knew roughly where the hotel Molina de Águeda was and as we kept an eye open for directions Kim had another navigational fluke and spotted a half hidden sign that signposted our destination. As we pulled into the car park there were a few spots of rain but it came to nothing and there were blue skies above us as we unloaded the car and went inside to reception. It was a very nice hotel indeed located in an old water mill on the river Agueda, elegantly refurbished and surrounded by woods and we had a good room on the front with a nice view of the river and the old city about a kilometre away.

http://www.hotelmolinodelagueda.com/

We rested for an hour, drank the beer and wine and nibbled on the snacks and then prepared to go out for evening meal. We debated whether to walk or drive and decided that driving was the preferred option so drove into the town and being unfamiliar with the street layout made a couple of attempts at parking before finally stopping and walking through one of the city gates into the old town.

It was a pleasant evening, not cold, but the sort of temperature when local people need to put on a coat, hat and scarf but shirt sleeve weather for those of us from northern Europe with thicker blood. We needn’t have worried about finding somewhere to eat because there was plenty of choice and the place was really busy with families out for a Sunday night on the town. We found a lively tapas bar where everyone was watching the ‘You’ve been framed’ bullfighting show that we had seen last month in Chinchón and the place was really hectic. We were the only overseas visitors in the place but we didn’t feel uncomfortable and we found a table and ordered food. Unfortunately they were so busy that they made a mistake with the order and we only got half of it but it didn’t matter, we weren’t especially hungry anyway and at least it made it a cheaper night out.