With a week to go before our ferry from Bilbao it was time to think about heading northwards. From Aranjuez there are two options, skirt around the eastern suburbs of Madrid then head north to Soria and Logroño. Alternatively, take the motorways west of Madrid through the Sierra de Gredos that would enable us to visit Avila and Salamanca. We chose the latter route, deciding that Avila's famous medieval walls were something we might like to see, and on a more mundane note Camping Regio on the outskirts of Salamanca has a laundry. This raises an interesting question - what has shaped our 12 year sojourn by motorhome around Europe - the continent's cultural gems or the availability of laundry facilities?
North of Madrid the AP6 climbs quickly towards the southern flank of the Sierra Guadarrama. It's a spectacular looking landscape, today especially so with banks of thundery looking cumulus half obscuring the jagged peaks. We turned west towards Avila, crossing a dun coloured plain.
The area autocaravanas at Avila seems to be operated by the local motorhome owners association. It's the first time we have come across this in Spain. This is not uncommon in Italy, a good arrangement as the places tend to be better looked after than municipal run ones, and better laid out too as they have been designed by people who know what motorhome owners need. We pre-booked on-line, it was a relief that the office was open when we arrived as the instructions for using the barrier code are somewhat gnomic. The guy behind the desk ticked us off the pending list, and was able to sell us a baguette for lunch too.
The area is a couple of hundred metres from the old town's walls, adjacent to the tour bus parking and a newly constructed police station - convenient and secure! We wandered up to the walls to take a few photos, a steep climb!
The ramparts are impressive, built in part on Roman foundations, then with Moorish additions topped by post reconquista crenellations - that amounts to two thousand years of uninterrupted human habitation. The walls are floodlit after dark - I took a photo, it doesn't really capture just how spectacular they are.
The next day we explored the old town itself. We wondered about having lunch out, there were lots of cafés marked on Google maps, however most had distinctly lacklustre reviews. Beyond the old city gates the reason became clear. We should have realised by the size of the coach park that Avila is a big day trip destination. Experience has taught us that mass tourism equals mediocre catering. However, it's not just the walls and ancient streets of the old city that attracts people here.
Avila is an important place of pilgrimage, the hostels with shell insignia attest to that, however the trashy religious gift shops and big coach park suggest that these days most religious tourists arrive in air conditioned buses not on foot. Aside from its ancient walls Avila's main claim to fame is that Saint Teresa was born here in in 1511. She entered a Carmelite nunnery at the age of 20, and over the next half century became venerated for her writings which promulgated a mystical, ecstatic approach to religious devotion. She also campaigned for more austere practices in the Carmelite order.
During her lifetime she was a divisive figure, her writings much loved by the laity, however the probity of her ecstatic outpourings were questioned by the more conservative elements within the Catholic hierarchy.
Nevertheless Teresa was canonised in 1622, around the time the Bernini produced a somewhat more eroticised depiction of her spiritual ecstasy.
She remains to this day one of Catholicism's most venerated saints, particularly in Spain. To the skeptically minded all this seems very odd and the trashy religious tourist tat on sale simply ludicrous.
Avila itself has significant old churches and a network of ancient streets, but like many upland towns it feels a little bleak and austere. The Google reviews were right about the place's cafes, we headed to one of the better regarded ones and it just about managed to be mediocre. The welcome was somewhat half-hearted too, which is unusual in Spain.
We gave up on the touristy old bit and headed towards Avila's main shopping area. We needed to find some small gifts for Nico's first birthday. Alehop to the rescue! We are much happier with retail therapy than religious devotion.
On the way back to the van we walked back through the old city's main square. Big posters advertised upcoming events for Semana Santa - there are spectacular Easter shenanigans in most Spanish cities, but I guess the one in Avila must be deemed particularly sacred due to the place's association with Saint Teresa.
It's a little over a hundred kilometres from Avila to Salamanca. Initially the motorway snakes through hill country but it soon flattens out into the wide upland plain that covers much of the Castille-Leon region.
At this time of year it's usually barren looking, leading us to dub it 'beige Spain'. Not this time, the unusually wet winter had turned it bright green, reminiscent more of Spalding than Uzbekistan.
Before heading for Camping Regio we found a place on the outskirts of Salamanca offering low priced diesel and GPL, we topped up both, enough to get us back to the UK. Trump's Iran adventure has sent fuel prices skywards and if the war becomes prolonged stocks are going to dwindle. How are flights to Japan in May and our plans to visit the Czech Republic in the summer might be affected remains to be seen.
We arrived at Camping Regio in Salamanca's suburbs in the early afternoon. It was sunny so we did our laundry straightaway. We had it washed and dried by sixish - enough clean clothes to see us home. Sometimes achieving mundane stuff can seem peculiarly pleasing.
We know Camping Regio well, I reckon we've stayed here about a dozen times. However, despite the site having a bus stop by the entrance and a regular service into the city we've only visited the centre three times.
Checking back in the blog I was surprised to learn that our last visit to the city centre was eight years ago in 2018. There is a good reason for this. When we head south from Santander in the winter Salamanca is just about manageable in a day's drive. Camping Regio is convenient, and more importantly open all year, a rare thing in central Spain during the winter months. It's location is ideal, the climate less so. The high plains of Castille are bitterly cold in January and February, struggling to reach double digits during the day and sub zero after dark. It's not conducive to sightseeing.
In a country endowed with beautiful old cities Salamanca still stands out. I can't think of anywhere better to appreciate Spain's unique plateresque architecture. Whereas in the rest of Europe it's easy to spot the development of architecture from the late fifteenth to the mid seventeenth centuries, a largely orderly procession from the late Gothic, through the classicising Renaissance to the exuberant Baroque, Spain followed a different path.
The decoration on monumental buildings during this period mixed gothic ornament, patterns adopted from Iberia's Islamic heritage with classical motifs, covering buildings in intricate patterns reminiscent of silversmithing - hence 'plateresque'.
However, before we arrived at the clutch buildings around the university and cathedral that typify the style we had a less elevated but more delicious treat planned. In the street behind the produce market lies Chocolatería Valor.
Their churros and chocolate are legendary, it's been eight years since we were last here, we've been anticipating our return visit for days.
We were not disappointed.
Salamanca's Central Square lies just beyond the market area. It's one of Spain's most spectacular.
At lunchtime it fills up with teenagers from local schools and university students. They gather here to have a chat and have a picnic. It's all very convivial, no messing about and no litter. Impressive!
From here what was once the old city's main thoroughfare leads to Salamanca's ancient heart.
We had spotted a potential lunch spot on Google maps called Tapas 3. It was closed, however another place just around the corner somewhat unimaginatively called 'Tapas 2' was open. I guess the establishments must be linked in some way.
It was very cosy, more of a snug than a restaurant. I wondered how such a small place could ever make a profit, then I realised the stairs in the corner led down to a bigger dining area in the cellar. We were happy enough to perch on the bar stools. The menu was interesting, the whole place had a cool hipterish vibe. Was this style over substance?
The answer, not at all, the wine list was interesting and the menu promised an elevated take on tapas classics. We were handed a menu in English, we opted for, 'very spicy potatoes' (patatas bravas), Tempura with asparagus and prawns, and 'Grandma Manuela's Croquettes.' The first two dishes were good, however Manuela's Grandma must have been an inspired cook, the Croquettes were sensational.
Tapas 2 didn't serve coffee, they recommended a place nearby, 'Dale Café'.
The espressos were good, but the most memorable thing about the place was when we were handed a map pin with our coffee. Visitors from abroad are invited to pinpoint their home town on a big world map on the wall. We squeezed ours on the southern edge of the gaggle of Mancunian visitors. Europe and North America were all well represented, as was China and 'down under'. Most remarkable was a single pin in the emptiness of central Asia. My geography of the steppes is not good enough to identify exactly which 'Stan' the visitor haled from, maybe they were Tajiki or Uzbeki, somewhere on the Silk road anyway.
The area around the University and the Cathedral is very beautiful. It is no coincidence that Salamanca is often likened to Oxford. Similarly the university buildings span the period from the fifteenth to the seventeenth centuries, both built in a cream coloured sandstone that seems to absorb sunlight as much as reflect it.
Tulips were in bloom beneath slender cypresses by Cathedral's portal. 'Maybe our daffodils may be out when we get home', we pondered.
Beyond the beds of spring flowers temporary barriers were being unloaded from a municipal truck and a plywood ramp constructed in front of the main door of the cathedral. As in Avila preparations for Semana Santa were well under way. In Salamanca the parade involves shouldering enormous floats depicting scenes from Easter story. It's a tight fit to get them out of the Cathedral and ramps are needed to carry them safely down the steps.
I wondered how these traditional parades might fare in the future. Spain is secularising more quickly than any other Catholic country in Europe, non-belief is rising even faster than in Ireland. In a recent census 40% of adults identified as 'non-believers' and regular church attendance has dropped to well under 20%, amongs under thirties this has diminished to single figures. Yet the country's Semana Santa events remain popular. In time they may simply become cherished 'folk traditions' like Shetland's 'Up helly aa' or the Padstow 'Obby Oss', events that have long lost their ritual significance but nevertheless assert a sense of community and shared history.
Beyond the cathedral old streets wind down the hill to the banks of the river Tormes. The bridge can be traced back to the Roman era.
Southern Europe didn't really experience a 'dark age' like in the north. Cities continued to grow and trade prospered even after the fall of the Roman Empire, and in Spain in the Moorish kingdom's Islamic scholars reintroduced Greek mathematics to Western Europe combining them with ideas from the near east and Persia. In the thirteenth century learning spread from monasteries into the secular world as the first universities were established, like here in Salamanca.
The buildings around the university are very beautiful, but one of them serves as a reminder that Spain's history has had darker moments too. The main archives relating to the Civil War is located here.
Though Franco died in 1975, a fully functional democratic system was not established until 1982. People here who are our age grew up in an authoritarian state. Spain's progess had been truly remarkable, a credit to the Spanish themselves, but also shining example of the success of the European Union. We must cherish this at a time when right wing bigotry is on the rise across the west and the 'American Dream' seems more like a nightmare. Spain gives me hope, we've had a good day in troubled times.