Day 30 - Salamanca to El Cubo de la Tierra del Vino (23 miles)

I said goodbye to Salamanca at 6.30am and as I headed across the Plaza Mayor and towards the road north out of the city the few people I saw on the streets seemed to be the remains of last night’s revellers rather than today’s early starters. 

Today's walking was to remind me of my first week heading from Cadiz. It took me an hour and a half to get out of the city and away from the main road I had been following to do so. But it would be a short lived respite from highway and traffic; the route never strayed far from the road throughout the day. Today's accommodation choices were to an albergue after ten miles or to the one after at twenty three miles. Initially I had planned on the former as I am in no rush and have no need to do longer routes day after day. However, I arrived at the small and uninspiring town of Calzada de Valdunciel quite early and even after coffee and passing time with a couple of other walkers in an otherwise empty bar I was left wondering how I would fill the rest of the day in a ghost town with nothing much to offer. So I headed off again in the company of another British guy I had met earlier that morning to cover the next uninspiring thirteen miles.

A short break from motorway 

Albergue - painted by French walker

After some three hours alongside or near one of the region's major arterial roads, and a game of 'hunt the alburgue' because of signposts pointing to long shut hostels, I am now in a comfortable albergue in Cubo de la Tierra del Vino (The Bucket of the Land of Wine). Yes, this is a wine producing area and the albergue sold bottles of the local wine so it seemed silly not to try one. The owner took great delight in explaining in detail how the deep roots of the vine, the land, the altitude and the weather come together to produce 'this special wine', a wine he said that was for drinking and enjoying on its own merits rather than with a meal. So I took him at his word and, sharing with a couple of colleagues in the albergue, we finished the very tasty bottle before dinner. And it was far better than the house wine our eclectic group of British, Serbian, German and French walkers were served with our meal later that evening.