Day 35 - Tábara to Olleros de Tera (22 miles)

At just after 7am people started drifting away from breakfast to begin the small tsunami of bed-desperate pilgrims rushing to the next albergue at Santa Marta de Tera fifteen miles away with its twelve beds, not enough for the eighteen people in this albergue let alone the other pilgrims we knew to be dotted around in the town. I had already decided that I would be doing another long day: firstly I did not want to be part of the rush for a bed; and secondly the village has no restaurant so anybody staying at the albergue would have to buy their own food to eat for tonight. Another seven miles on there was a small albergue in a village with a bar and restaurant and this was the one I initially had my eye on.

The first few miles took me - and the little trail of people I was following - through fields and along the bottom of a wide and lightly wooded valley. I began to see evidence of the forest fires that hit the area three years ago: wide expanses of charred and bare trees across the landscape standing black and stark amid the grasses and flowers that had been able to make a comeback since the devastation. It had clearly been extensive. 

Most of today was along wide tracks and a little road until Santa Marta de Tera at which point other walkers stopped while I continued along the Camino; I wanted to press on as I had heard some people talking about getting taxis to the next albergue if unable to find a bed. I had also by now decided to do an extra mile or so as there was yet another albergue slightly further along with good reports in my guide book.

My route now took me along the river Tera which incorporates its name into a few villages in the area. However the path was mostly set back from the water which as a result was often out of sight behind trees. I was also walking along wide tracks that were clearly there to support the local gravel industry, evidence of which I would catch occasional glimpses of through the surrounding plantations. As a river walk it did not compare with yesterday. 

Within two hours I had reached my destination, the tiny village of Olleros de Tera, had a beer and found the albergue. It was locked. The sign on the door was promising saying the albergue was open and with a contact number but it all proved fruitless. After an hour happily waiting and lazing outside in the sun I thought I had better take my lack of a bed for the night seriously.  So I am now in a small guest house where I have a room to myself and the helpful owner has given me access to her washing machine. It’s a little more than the six euros I would have paid in the albergue but a lot more comfortable I am sure. 

After making the most of my unexpected luxury I headed into the village for dinner. Olleros is tiny and seems to cling to a traditional past: the men sit in the bar playing cards, everyone acknowledges you and many of the buildings, including homes, are still of mud and stone. I climbed the open bell tower of the aging brick church and looked out across the village, enjoying its quiet charm. I am pleased I ended up here. 

Tomorrow I can have a short day.