Today we began in Aldeanueva del Camino with Mass and a good breakfast of chocolate and churros. Andy Connell sent me a message to let me know that it was the feast of St Julian the Hospitaller, patron Saint of, among other things, pilgrims. After breakfast, we set out to leave the town passing over a bridge with a very lively stream which runs through the town down to the River Ambroz.
The way today consisted of three parts. The first part is the least inspiring and somewhat tiresome, walking at the side of the N630. While not the busiest of roads, it is hard underfoot, and one has to be aware of the speeding vehicles passing quite close. Also the detritus of years of littering makes the side of roads unpleasant, and the sites of closed defunct businesses that thrived on what was, previously, the main road North-South in this Western part of Spain, but has been supplanted in these last fifteen years by the motorway, make a sad sight. The 9.5km walk to Baños de Montemayor, the last town in Extremadura, is a gentle uphill. The town itself promises to be interesting, with lots of hotels and restaurants in this Roman thermal spa town. Whether it's not the season, or simply that the town has gone the way of so many places on this route, the place was deserted except for a few stalwart locals, and it was hard enough to hunt down the omelette and salad which we eventually found in a bar on the old main road.
The second section of this day's walk promised to be the most taxing, for we had to pass from the region of Extremadura and the province of Cáceres into the region of Castilla-León, and the province of Salamanca through the Béjar pass. While both the N630 and the motorway and their way up to the pass, the Roman pavement which the Camino follows is straight up the hill and over the top. I'm the end, it wasn't so had, and the views were the great reward. From above we could see the Baños reservoir which we had walked past but had been hidden from view. One final look back into Extremadura and we walked into a new region, province and Diocese.
Once through the pass, and a lemonade and a packet of crisps consumed, we embarked on the third section of the way: 9km to Calzada de Béjar. Passing the Albergue and town of Puerto de Béjar on the right, we followed the Roman road down into a beautiful green valley. The motorway passed away above our heads, unable to see the beauty of the valley, reminiscent to me of the Wye valley, with steep sides and the gurgling of the River below. Descending all the way down into the bottom of the valley, we passed over the River Cuerpo de Hombre (an oddly named River, meaning 'Body of Man') by way of the Magdalene bridge. From there it was a continuous rise up to the pueblo that time forgot: Calzada de Béjar. The smoke for air and the rather run down aspect of the buildings strong the centre of the small village make you feel you have travelled through time to a different era. The welcome was exceptionally warm at the Albergue, the owners of which also owned the casa rural where we were staying. Reunited with our friends from the Camino, Ian and Jonah, we had a dinner of simple fare and good, quite serious, conversation.
Looking at my blisters, this will be the final stop, and tomorrow it will be a bus into Salamanca, with a promise to return, on foot, next month.
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