Toledo observations

Firstly, about my hotel.

There are said to be three floors, reflecting the traditional makeup of Toledo’s population: Christian, Moslem and Jewish. I am on the Christian floor, so cannot speak for the others. Breakfast is served on the top floor with a close-up view of the Cathedral:

This is from their own website.

This is from my window.

Manolo himself is there in the morning, seeing to the check-out, but most of the work is done by a Tamil girl from South India who speaks to me in English.

I love their towels and would like to “souvenir” one, but I won’t:

My initial too!

I spoke about overpopulation of the human race. Toledo has an issue with pigeons. They live on all the small balconies, where people hang fairground whirlies to keep them off. This doesn’t work. Opposite me are two pairs of pigeons, who live amongst their own excrement:

Great piles of it! Not very nice!

This evening the rain in Spain finally caught up with me. I had walked up to the lookout over the Tagus gorge for a G&T:

 I hurried back to my hotel after the first few drops, but still got a bit wet. Luckily I had previously bought some provisions: yogurts and a fresh peach, which I enjoyed in my little room.

Actually, sightseeing is quite tiring!

El Greco

This morning I wanted to visit the El Greco Museum before the crowds, so that I could enjoy it in peace. It opened at 9.30 am and I was about 30 minutes walk away. Toledo is built on a hill, in a defensive position surrounded by a bend in the River Tagus. But inside the old town, nothing is flat: you are either climbing or descending a hill. Luckily I am *relatively* fit from the Camino, but even so…

I arrived at the El Greco House and was happy to get free entry again because of my age. 

Entry is through the garden, and it’s a beautiful garden.

This is the interior courtyard.

One of the books from El Greco’s library.

The Museum is actually a recreation of a sixteenth century Toledo house from the period of El Greco, and only the wine cellars in the basement date from his residence. Unfortunately these cellars are closed because the flooring is considered unsafe. There is lots to see upstairs, though.

Household objects.

Tears of Saint Peter 



Picasso’s visit to the El Greco House.

View through a window into the kitchen.

Section of the garden planted entirely with aromatic plants, looking upwards to the central tower. 

The roses and star jasmine are particularly good at this time of year. It was recommended to sit in the garden and take a rest, which is what I did before setting off back to the Posada de Manolo.

Madrid to Toledo

By train.

The crowds of people milling about the two Madrid stations (Chamartin and Atocha), and the traffic on the road between them, made me conclude that the human race has grown too big. We need to stop reproducing!

I took a taxi to Atocha, an experience in itself, as the driver kept throwing up his hands in despair at the behaviour of others on the road who pulled out and cut in front of him. When he could, he drove at speed to prevent others from getting in his lane.

I had a quick breakfast at Atocha; then discovered there was no left luggage inside the station. They sent me round the corner, where a rip-off merchant charged me €8 for a few hours. But I had to do it. Atocha is very close to the Reina Sofia Museum and I wanted another look at Picasso’s Guernica. I was happy to discover there was free entrance for seniors to Reina  Sophia.

There is no photography allowed of this most famous piece: this is a photo of a print in the gift shop.

Near to the Guernica gallery is a collection of Civil War posters:

The train to Toledo took just over half an hour, so I was soon in this most medieval of cities, with narrow streets and buildings crowding in on one another. My taxi, with its female driver, was a very small Toyota: the only car that could negotiate the way through the old town to my accommodation at La Posada de Manolo. I have a quirky little room with squeaky floorboards:

It’s right next to the Cathedral, but my first thought was to get some lunch at the fashionable Spanish hour of 3.00 pm. The first restaurant I came to was Los Cuatro Tiempos, where I had a Caesar Salad followed by Venison Stew:

Ourense to Madrid Chamertin

By train.

Sitting on a train for 3 hours is almost as tiring as walking! The train started from Ourense and was almost empty at the beginning. I had a nice forward-facing window seat. The train sped along, sometimes reaching 250 km per hour. At every station, more passengers got on. I relieved the boredom by walking down to the buffet car, where I had a beer, a chicken sandwich and some crisps. The link below is my much worse experience last time I made this journey:

http://caminoconfidential.blogspot.com/2019/05/ourense-to-madrid.html?m=0

The previous post on that blog gives more info about the thermal pools.

My hotel, the Barcelo Ourense, when I left this morning.

A few pics from my stroll around town as far as the main square and cathedral yesterday evening:

Now I’m relaxing in the Barcelo Imagine Hotel in Madrid, enjoying a cup of Japanese Sencha tea.

Looking out of my window, there are a few changes down below. I used to watch a homeless man in his shack and veggie garden in a patch of waste ground. Now it’s all been bulldozed and something new is being constructed.

Looking black over the station. Rain is forecast for tonight.

Ourense Hot Springs

Ourense is best known for its hot springs in a series of thermal pools on the banks of the River Mino. Some are free (though not all of these are open at present). The main one, Outeriz, costs €6.50 and is themed like a Japanese onsen. The main problem is getting there. The choice is between a little train that rattles along uneven ground (a real bone shaker!) and a town bus that goes all round the housing estates of an adjacent suburb. I tried both and believe the bus is marginally better!

The little tourist train.


Inside Outeriz, looking down on the pools. Photography is not allowed!

Japanese curtains hang inside:

All in all, it was quite a worthwhile experience. There are difference pools making up a “zen circuit” with temperatures ranging from 38 to nearly 50, plus a couple of icy cold plunge pools. You are allowed 2 hours. My time was 11.10 am till 1.10 pm after which I sat in the cafe area to recover.

It seemed I was there at one of the busiest times. The pools were full of people of my age and above; most were very flabby, to say the least. Seeing all that excess flesh made me want to go on a strict diet immediately! You were advised not to spend more than 10 minutes at a time in the hot pools, but there were plenty of sun beds to relax in the sunshine and watch the River Mino flowing past. Most people were local: I hardly heard any foreign voices - mainly because of the difficulties of getting there, I suspect.

When my time was up, I ordered some miso soup and sat on the terrace above the pools:

This is the view looking back towards Ourense.

Triacastela to Sarria

By bus. (And on to Ourense).

Today I’m transitioning from being a pilgrim to being a tourist, with a convenient bus at 10.30 am. As I had a bit of time to kill, I walked back up the street to visit the Romanesque Church of  Santiago (closed of course).

Triacastela once had three castles, but all that remains are some ruins at the top of the hill:

The morning looked rather grey and cloudy (compared to previous days) as I left Casa David:

My room last night was right next to their illuminated sign, which thankfully was switched off at midnight.

The bus to Sarria was a lovely scenic drive, going up to Samos, past the monastery, and then down again into Sarria. By the skin of my teeth, I arrived at the train station, but too late to purchase a ticket from the vending machine. Ticket sales close 5 minutes before the train is due. However, it was my lucky day - there was a replacement bus running instead of a train, so I was able to jump on with everybody else (without paying!!!).

The journey went past the gorges of the River Sil and the Belesar Dam, scenes from a previous Camino of mine:

It was a really interesting ride on winding mountain roads, looking down on the river far below on our right. 

On arrival in Ourense, I found it was surprisingly warm and jumped in a taxi to take me to the Barcelo Ourense Hotel. I have a spacious room (what a change from my Camino lodgings). There is an upstairs mezzanine with a spa bath. Looking down:

Fonfria to Triacastela. 8.8 km

Casa de Lucas in Fonfria was a cosy little place with only 4 rooms. The food was excellent: for dinner I had mixed salad, pork & mushroom casserole, coffee ice cream.

It was another cold start to the day as I left this farming village and followed the Camino downhill:

I stopped for a coffee and a donut at Casa Quiroga in Biduedo. The cows were being taken out to their pasture, a scene that was repeated several times today as this is definitely dairy country:

The views today were magnificent: miles and miles of rolling hills.

Flower of the day (the orange one). What is it?

My knees started to protest with so much downhill. I was glad to see Triacastela appear in the valley below:

In the tiny village of Ramil is this famous 100-year-old chestnut tree:

A plaque said that the poor peasants of Ramil had to pay taxes to the wealthy monastery of Samos.

Just round the bend we came to the first bar in Triacastela, just opposite the Municipal Albergue. I had a quick snack to help me on my way to Casa David at the far end of town. It’s a warm afternoon: perfect for a siesta.