clairedavieswriter

Last night, we learned that the troglodyte houses we’d seen on the way into Baltanás were part of an entire neighbourhood of underground bodegas, which have been used to make and store wine since the mid-16th century. Every chimney denotes a bodega:

In total, there are 374 bodegas, some of which are still used for their traditional purpose

While others appear to have been adapted for more modern uses:

Prior to setting out, we knew today was going to be our longest ride to date, and we were a little intimidated by the profile:

Sure enough, we were climbing straight out of the gate

But we were rewarded with fantastic views:

Our path was garlanded with flowers:

And which cyclist is ever going to complain about smooth tarmac, blue skies and a following wind?

Briefly, we thought we’d cycled into France

But we soon found evidence to the contrary:

Valladolid’s Academia de Caballería (cavalry) building wasn’t the only thing that impressed us. It also had fantastic cycle infrastructure, that took us safely into town…

And out the other side, often separated from the traffic:

Which made for some very happy cyclists at lunchtime:

Though we were less happy later, having decided to deviate from Guillaume’s perfectly good route onto the EuroVelo 1.

To be fair, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Knowing it was unpaved, we had asked a local cyclist what the trail was like. ‘Está perfecto!’ he said. And flat. That sealed it, so off we went. Moral of the story: never take advice on ride conditions from a man on a mountain bike. It was stony, rutted, sandy, and bore no resemblance to the section of EV1 we’d ridden in France. Bernard and Colin endured the hardships stoically. Guillaume just rolled his eyes.
On the plus side, we did get lovely views of the river. And mountain bike man was right about one thing: it was flat.

Nearly nine hours after we set out, we rolled into Tordesillas – which as I’m sure you all know is famous for the 1494 treaty that carved up, somewhat unclearly, the newly discovered lands in South America between Spain and Portugal:

We were dusty, saddle sore and thirsty. We soon found a solution to the latter in the bustling main square:

And we’ve taken careful note of the sign in the bar where we stopped for coffee. It translates as, ‘Life is too short to drink bad wines’.

When I told Jon that we were staying at the Hotel Carmen, he asked ‘Do you think it will be Bizet?’. Come for the cycling, stay for the five star banter. This might be a good moment to share a picture of him modelling his carefully chosen Christmas present (the t-shirt, obviously, not the chimney):

Our room has a fine view across the Duero, which we expect to see again in Portugal in a few weeks’ time. Tomorrow, we’re off to Salamanca – and I think we’ll be sticking to Guillaume’s route. Buenas noches!