Travels with my bike in Castile by David Lanfear
“We are all travellers in the wilderness of this world … and the best that we find in our travels is an honest friend. He is a fortunate voyager who finds many. We travel, indeed, to find them. They are the end and the reward of life. They keep us worthy of ourselves; and when we are alone, we are only nearer to the absent.”
With the words of Stevenson etched on my mind, we set off on our cycling holiday through the little-known Spanish province of Segovia with high hopes of returning home with many fascinating tales to tell of the remarkable people we had met along the way. Although we have travelled extensively in Spain, Segovia is one area that had begun to arouse our interest over recent years and what better way to explore the Castles and Canyons of Old Castile and to really get a feel for the place than on two wheels.
From Madrid it is a short rail journey to Segovia, the delightful capital of this ancient kingdom, and our first hotel was a wonderful fifteenth-century Castilian palace, no less, right in the heart of the old city, a labyrinth of narrow cobbled streets, lined with quaint old shops and stone houses, that all seemed to lead us to the truly awe-inspiring Roman viaduct. Forget the Ribblehead Viaduct, forget the Pont du Gard, this incredible structure stands majestically above a quiet, anonymous square as locals wander underneath as if it wasn’t there - and yet it’s the largest, and best-preserved, of its kind anywhere in the world.
Before dinner, we took a lazy stroll around the quiet streets to soak up the atmosphere passing the beautiful Gothic cathedral on our way to visit the famous alcazar - the fortress upon which Walt Disney supposedly based his fairy-tale castle. (Or was that somewhere else?) I half expected to see Mickey Mouse cavorting round the place but, fortunately, there was no grand parade through the streets, just ordinary Segovians going about their daily business with a friendly smile.
When we arose the next morning, we enjoyed a tasty breakfast of local pastries and jams, ready for the day ahead. Our bikes were delivered that morning by the affable English-speaking Javier and Jaime, who reassured us that cycling was easy and that the bikes were up the job. They certainly seemed so, with solid tyres and enough gears to climb any sierra! “Any problems simply call this number!” they said, adding that if we got fed up with cycling to give them a call and they’d bring us a couple of donkeys instead! (I’m still not sure if they were joking or not.) However, before we could feel the wind in our hair, we accepted their kind offer of a short transfer - to avoid the main road - and so began our ride from the magnificent Palacio Real de La Granja de San Ildefonso.
Entry to the extensive gardens with their 26 fountains is free and, this being a Wednesday, entry to the house was also free. We could not overlook our good fortune and spent a couple of hours exploring Spain’s ‘Versaille’, with its fabulous wealth of artworks, before setting off on the first leg of our journey. Crossing a pleasant grassy plateau we were bound for the small town of Torrecaballeros where we were assured a local gastronomic delicacy awaited - succulent suckling pig. We were spoiled for choice of restaurants in this pleasant town but soon found ourselves tucking into our lunch with much gusto - and a large glass of the mythical Ribera del Duero, a delicious red wine from the region - well, this is the longest day’s cycling and we would need our strength!
Fortified, and feeling very much a part of the local culture, we set off once more through increasingly delightful landscapes, following winding country lanes through flower-filled meadows. Spring is the perfect time to go, when the flowers are in full bloom and the sometimes oppressive heat of central Spain is yet to reach its zenith. We passed through a number of small, stone-built villages, like Sotosalbos, that hide intriguing Romanesque churches, before arriving at our destination for the night, the small town of Collado Hermoso.
Here, we were warmly welcomed at the Fuente Plateada, our hotel for the night, where the quiet gardens made the ideal haven for a spot of relaxation after our day’s exertions. Later, having showered and changed, we felt suitably refreshed and took a stroll round the town, before being taken for our dinner to a small traditional tavern near the hotel. Here, we shared a light tapas supper, explaining to an elderly gentleman why we were cycling to Sepúlveda when there was a perfectly good bus service that would get us there in less than an hour!
The next day, we awoke raring to go, excited by the prospect of reaching the medieval town of Pedraza. The start of the ride took us through the constantly changing landscapes of the meseta, the name for the granite-strewn uplands that are interspersed with stands of mighty oak woodland, giving this area its unique character. However, the day’s highlight was a thoroughly enjoyable cycle along the banks of the Rio Cega, where glades of poplars gave shade from the heat of the midday sun reflected in the dazzling waters. Indeed, it was beneath one stand of trees that we stopped to enjoy our picnic - purchased from the hotel in the morning - and dangled our feet in the cooling waters. I almost dozed off in these idyllic surroundings, but was suddenly awoken by the sound of tinkling bells. Surely I was in heaven, but no - it was a flock of sheep, drinking their fill at the river under the watchful gaze of a weather-beaten old man, who eyed us with some amusement. He told us it wasn’t far to Pedraza - “just follow the river, you can’t miss it” - and how right he was.
Pedraza stands proudly atop a limestone cliff, its honey-coloured houses bathed in the late afternoon sunshine, giving this unspoiled medieval town a golden glow that drew us on. As we passed through the imposing gateway set within the encircling walls, we were delighted to see that time and modernity had not scarred this delightful town. Narrow cobbled streets led on to the main square where we wandered past covered arcades that sheltered quaint-looking bars and tavernas, looking much now as I suppose they did in the seventeenth century.
Our hotel was a superbly-converted town house located in the old quarter. The Hospedería de Santo Domingo is a wonderful contradiction of styles - older features from the eighteenth-century, yet with wi-fi access, too! After a refreshing cerveza in the hotel’s private bar we headed out into town to explore its medieval streets - there really are no modern buildings - and to enjoy another gastronomic ‘must’ - Segovian roast lamb. Half way through our meal a group of men suddenly appeared in the square, each armed with chair. They immediately set up a card table and began a game, which the waitress told us they did every night at the same time: “You can set your watches by them”, she laughed.
I was tempted to go over but, noticing a very obvious hierarchy as to who sat or stood where, I decided it wiser not to upset protocol and risk an international incident! We had another beer instead…
The great thing about this holiday was that we now got to spend two nights in this charming town. We could have simply spent the day relaxing in the square with a chilled white Rueda wine, or head off on our bikes to enjoy a leisurely circuit beneath the spectacular Sierra de Guadarrama. We wisely chose the latter and embarked upon another day’s delightful cycling on one of two suggested options that took us through more pretty countryside to the small town of Arcones. Having set off later than we intended (some of these Spanish beers are deceptively strong!) we arrived well into the afternoon but the laid-back hosts of the Hostal la Cerca assured us that they never closed and would always rustle up food no matter what time it was. We partook of the excellent menu del día sharing a table with a group of lunchtime workers who advised us on the tastiest Castilian specialities and convinced us that a good lunch should last at least two hours! Eventually, we remounted our trusty steeds and pedalled back to the comforting walls of Pedraza - just in time for dinner.
The character of the land changed the next day as we set off across the high-level plains of Castile, where the vivid colours of the landscape - rich red soil, vibrant yellow sunflowers, bright purple lavender and deep blue sky - never ceased to amaze.
Our final destination was Sepúlveda and we looked forward with great excitement to our first sight of this famous town, a real medieval gem sitting atop dramatic limestone cliffs above the Duratón River. It didn’t take that long to reach the town and so had ample time to enjoy a leisurely lunch and a quiet exploration of the ancient streets, having taken advice from the nice lady in the tourist information office. Our hotel was a real delight - the Posada de San Millán, one of the oldest buildings in the town, which had beautiful, tranquil gardens from where we watched the lights twinkling over the town.
We thought we had seen everything as we set out on our final day’s ride, but as we headed into the Duratón Gorge, we soon came to realise how much more there was still to see. This was a fantastic ride along the river heading deeper and deeper into the canyon. Tall cliffs rose around us as the deep, green waters flowed inexorably on their way to join the Duro and eventually the Atlantic Ocean.
After a while, we began a slow ascent, stopping to rest (I mean, ‘admire the view’) a couple of times on our way up to the Hermitage of San Frutos, still a holy site today, as we witnessed when a group of solemn-looking Greek Orthodox monks rode by on their bikes! Legend has it, that it was on this very spot that, in the eighth-century, Saint Frutos caused the canyon to suddenly open up in the ground in an effort to stop the advance of the Moors. The sheer drama and beauty of the canyon brought us to an abrupt halt, too, as scores of vultures riding the thermals suddenly appeared from out of the depths and soared around our heads. This was a truly spectacular sight and provided a final stunning memory of our holiday to Segovia that would stay with us forever.