Day 18 Salamanca to Leon

Some months ago when I was planning my route I discovered that there was not much of great interest between Salamanca and Leon. Zamora lay on the road between the two but the guide books that mention it at all advise that it’s given a wide birth as it is nothing more than an urban and industrial mess with only a very small part of the old town remaining. There were places tucked away in the area but this would have involved a considerable detour and I was keen to keep my mileage to 200 miles per day so as I set off from Salamanca at around midday I was not sure what I would find on route.

The drive to Zamora was very flat and straight thankfully the weather was a little cooler today so it was pleasant going listening to 80’s hits on my IPod. This came to an end when I pulled into garage to fuel up and buy bread and water for a picnic later. The helpful attendant warned me to be careful as it was illegal to listen to music on headphones while driving and warrants a 60 Euro fine if caught. This law I could not fathom as in a modern car with a stereo on you can’t hear anything and in my 7 I have to drive with either headphones or ear plugs as the engine noise is so great that after a couple of hours you end up with ringing in your ears. However wanting to play it cool I check the RAC booklet to ascertain that this was so which it was and then put the IPod in my man bag and put in my foam ear plugs attempting to hum some tunes on route.

The outskirts of Zamora were as awful as described and the traffic heading into the centre was so heavy that I decided to bypass the place altogether, this led me to take a wrong turn and I end up on the larger N630 an A road rather than the CL612 a C road. I had hoped this smaller C road might provide some interesting little villages. However I was glad I stuck to the N630 as this led me to the small village of Mayorga and just as I entered the village I spied a sign pointing left to a 15th Centaury Monastery so I turned the car round and followed the little road for 3km to discover a large ruin. The place was disserted apart from a young woman I passed on foot who turn up a while later. All the gates were closed and it seemed to indicate that they would open at 4pm. As it was now gone three and I had not had any lunch I decided this was as good a place as any to stop. I set up my folding chair and tucked into French bread, choricho and a small tin of pate I had in the car from France, washed down with a couple of mouthfuls of wine from my wine skin.

An hour later not much had happened. The girl had got fed up of waiting for the gate to open and had simply climbed over. I was intending to do the same thing when a couple of cars turn up shortly followed by the man in charge who opened all the gates. I was very impressive and in its day would have been similar in size to the abbey at Glastonbury. It was clear from the large sign by the gate that it was been managed and restored by the Spanish Heritage Department. Apart from this there was no other information and I have searched my guide books and the net to no avail. None of the structures had roofs on and the tops of the walls were lined with storks nests, clearly by there number if you follow superstition the little town of Mayorga was about to experience a baby boom!

Despite the lack of information this was a photographers dream and I put my little Canon G10 which I had brought for the trip through its paces. It’s a compact camera but has all of the flexibility of a larger digital SLR apart from the lens can’t be interchanged. Even so the lens gives you an equivalent of 24mm – 120mm which is really all you need. There is an additional digital zoom which gives an equivalent 200mm which I used to good effect at Le Mans. All in all I have been very impressed with the results and hope you have enjoyed them on the blog, by the way if you double click on the little slide shows in the Blog this will give you a full screen picture so you can see the photos in greater detail. One of the features I particularly like is that you can switch to black and white or sepia tone which gives very good results. I know this can also be done on the PC afterwards but it was good to play around in this way.

After an hour's photography I decided it was time to head for Leon. The rest of the drive was as dull as the mornings made worse by lack of music but I did pass three parked police cars so decided I had been wise not to wear the headphones. It was also getting considerably cooler and grey clouds were appearing in the sky. I thought it could well rain before I arrive at Leon. I even found myself reaching for the leaver that operates the heating at several points. Coming into the centre of Leon was straight forward. I had pre-booked my hotel, Hotel Paris which was right by the Cathedral. I followed the sat nav until I came to one of the bollards that goes up and down in the road. I had no pass but then notice a button marked Hotel Paris which I pressed and a voice soon crackled on the intercom and then the bollard descended and I was through.

At this point I felt like a film star arriving as the street was full of pedestrians who parted some cheering and clapping at my little car and making sounds of great exclamation. Though this brought a smile to my face at first it all became rather embarrassing particularly when I had to stop outside the hotel where a large crowd gather taking photos. I asked the receptionist if I could put the car away first. She said she was sorry but the garage was full. I showed her my booking form which clearly indicated that I had reserved parking but she apologised and said there was nothing she could do. I pointed to the car and the crowed and said I have to have somewhere secure to park the car. She said the nearest underground car park was nearly a kilometre away. At this point the hotel manager appeared to see why such a crowd had gathered in front of his hotel. He could see my problem and felt confident he could get me into the space he had for motor bikes. He walked out of the hotel and instructed me to follow him in the car. I drove slowly up the street followed by the crowed and then round the corner to what looked like a set of huge lift doors. These he opened and I drove in. A button was pressed the doors closed and we began to descend at the same time the car slowly rotated 180 degrees. All I need was the Thunderbirds theme tune and Brains to appear at the door. When the lift stopped I drove into an area that could hold about 8 cars and there was a small space for bikes which had been used by a group of cyclists. We moved the push bikes and the 7 fitted perfectly into the space I could now rest easy.

Back at reception the receptionist was very sorry about not having kept the space but I said it was no longer a problem. She gave me my key and then a card marked Spa Pass. What was this I asked? She explained that the hotel had a Spa and it was all free to guest including the treatments. This I should indicate is very much in keeping with the Camino as pilgrims would often spoil themselves at Leon before the final push and more mountains before Santiago. My room was small but very clean and tidy up in the roof with a mini bar, TV and air-conditioning. It seems in Spanish hotels rooms on the top floor in the attic space are kept for single travellers there a bit smaller than a normal room but all you need I could have stayed here for a week quite comfortably. This is very sensible as in so many hotels these days you are penalized for being a solo traveller having to pay a room subsidy which is most unfair.

I decided I would head straight to the Spa as a long hot drive had taken its toll. The Spa was on the second floor and consisted of a set of small changing rooms, a pool which was about 10x10 meters a Jacuzzi, steam room, sauna, and a shower system that was again very hi-tech. It reminded me of the scene from Dr No when Bond is caught in the swamp and has to be decontaminated before entering number 1’s layer, though in this instant you walked round in a large circle while various jets squirted you in places that a member of the clergy should not be squirted. By the end of this process I was spotlessly clean and headed for the pool. Lengths were pointless as with one push you were at the other end but it was very refreshing. I discovered there were various buttons around the edge of the pool which operated air bubbles one so strong it nearly removed my trunks! This was becoming more James Bond by the minute, having arrived in a Lotus, revolving lifts, and space age shower systems all I needed was a Bond girl or a sinister man in a grey suite to walk out stroking a white cat and say ‘we have been expecting you Revd Hancock’! However apart from me and the occasional member of staff putting towels in the lockers I was on my own. I decided a good steam was in order so headed for the steam room and lay there for twenty minutes as it suggested on the door. When I stepped out would you believe it the place was full of Bond Girls!!! What would 007 do at this point? I decided to head for the Jacuzzi and engage some of these lovely creatures in conversation, unfortunately there was no facility for ordering a martini. I soon discovered that they were not all guest of the hotel but members of the Spa and had just finished work in the city and were having a session before heading home. When I was asked what I did I felt like saying I work for her majesty’s government! However saying I was a priest in the Anglican Church I think generated far more interested. They were all very interested particularly in the fact the clergy can marry which they thought was a very sensible idea and that we had women priest too.

At this point another young woman join the gathering in the Jacuzzi but this time I discovered that she was a pilgrim like me from Vienna on her way to Santiago named Christine. Unlike me she had walked from just the other side of the Spanish boarder with France in the Pyrenees. Unfortunately she had sprained her ankle a couple of days ago and for now was unable to continue having been told by a doctor to rest it for a few days. Well a good place to be stuck in I retorted. She told me that she was married and had a little boy of 5 called Mathew who suffered from hyper activity and that the past five years had been very difficult. Her husband had changed jobs and had more free time and suggested that she take a month’s break so she decided to walk the Camino. This was very brave on two counts walking alone in some of the places I’ve been through is no easy thing and I would not want to be a lone female in some of the isolated villages I have been through. Secondly leaving ones child for such a long period is not easy I know Kate can’t be away from our boys for more than three days before she feels she needs to get back. I explained I had to young boys and I missed them and my wife but it is some how different for a mother to be separated from her children sorry if this sounds sexist but it’s just the case. We swapped notes on the pilgrims experience particularly the feeling of loneliness that can be generated in large crowds rather than on the road as well as the constant urge to be on the move and how frustrating it was for her to be stuck in Leon. I did offer her a lift but knew this would be considered cheating by anyone walking the Camino but it seemed the English and gentlemanly thing to do. Quite what I would have done with all my kit in the passenger foot well and her back pack is another matter. I realized at this point I should have brought the Aston Martin rather then the Lotus. 007 at instant would have contacted Q to have it flown in! By now I was looking like a prune so I said farewell and good luck to Christine and headed back to my room to get changed and find a place to eat.

Leon was a buzz of activity my last visit here had been with Kate and the boys and I felt quite homesick sitting at the café by the cathedral we had visited last time. While I had been in the Hotel it had clearly rained and there was a welcomed freshness to the air. Rather than a sit down meal I opted for the tapas as this gives you a better feel for the place and it’s easier to engage people in conversation at the bars. I met several other pilgrims from Holland, the US, France, Spain, Germany but no Brits on my tour round the Bars. By 11pm I was feeling quite bushed so decided an early night would be in order and a chance to writer up the blog as the hotel had Wi-Fi. It was very pleasant sitting in my room writing with the sounds of the street below rising up to my window.