We had a slightly earlier start today because, although we were doing a shortish distance (65km), we knew we had a big climb to Bejar.  We also we knew the weather was due to hot up later in the day as a small heat wave hits this part of Spain.  

So we were out into the sunny fresh morning just as the fresh produce market was setting up in the Plaza Mayor; much as it probably has since the 12^th century. It was a bit of a climb to start with and there was quite a lot of traffic leaving the city as we started out on the road to the motorway.  But it wasn’t long before we were on a beautiful quiet country road with almost our only company being cuckoos, who we heard calling on a send and response basis.  We also saw lots of storks high up in their nests.  Their chicks are all growing up and poking their heads out of the top of these perilous nests.  The first flight for a stork chick must be quite something.  They are so numerous here that they were nesting on the top of every electricity pylon!  I hope their chicks don’t get electrocuted but we also wondered about how they take their first steps (or flap their wings for the first time) at least 40m off the ground and surrounded by live electricity cables!

The sun was glancing through the Dehesa – Holm Oak and Cork Oak trees as far as the eye could see, with cattle grazing the rich grasslands underneath. This will be our last views of the Dehesa, which has been a feature of the landscape since we left Seville as today we had the job of climbing up to the Meseta; the high central plain that sits at around 800m in this part of Spain.

After about 20km of a lovely first section, we joined the N630 again running parallel to the motorway, although mostly just distant enough that we weren’t disturbed by motorway noise. We could see the mountains looming ahead but a long gentle downhill stretch took us to morning coffee at the equivalent of a transport “caff” just off the motorway, which was full of lorry drivers.  It was significantly nicer than the UK equivalent in the overall environment, the standard of coffee and the friendliness of the lorry drivers who waved and wished us ‘bon viaje’.

Boosted by a caffeine jolt (and pan au raisin from Carrefour from the previous day), the next section took us on a short detour to the town of Hervas, a pretty hillside town with an amazingly preserved medieval Jewish quarter of tightly knotted alleyways, which had buildings made of chestnut wood and overhanging balconies. Most Spanish towns and cities had active Jewish communities during the 14^th and 15^th centuries, co-existing with the Moorish communities, who ruled at that time.  As the Christian ‘reconquest’ gradually took control, Jews and Muslims often worked together as subjugated minorities in Christian held cities.  The final Moorish territory, the Emirate of Granada, surrendered to the Catholic monarchs of Ferdinand and Isabella in 1492. That same year Ferdinand and Isabella issued a decree that all Jewish people must either convert to Catholicism or leave the country.  So the “Christians” were (as we would see it) far less Christian than the Moors who co-existed with the Jews in a seemingly tolerant manner.  Many Jews did convert but many refused to do so and were forced into exile – proving that anti-Semitism has a long history in Europe. Either way the Jewish quarters dissipated. Sadly the lack of religious tolerance towards communities that do not look and worship like us still actively rears its head across Europe today, including in the UK.

Fortified by a picnic lunch, we had ne excuses for not tackling the major climb of the day, up the Ambroz valley into the mountains.  This was an almost 400m climb and was the biggest we have done this trip (so far at least). It was no alpine climb (thank goodness) where the gradients can be over 12%, but it felt long enough in the heat of the afternoon.  It was obvious why it was called the ‘Via Verde’, the Greenway, as we were surrounded by lush trees and vegetation. The road climbed gently and we were feeling good. The pass topped out at just under 1000m elevation, and we then had a short downhill section before finally climbing back up through Bejar to find our apartment.  As the city clings to a steep hillside, this proved to be the steepest climb of the day!

We arrived feeling tired but pretty pleased with ourselves. Bernie is writing this and reflects that she never felt that, after David’s heart operation, we could have been able to cycle like this again.  We were taken back to the days before the op when he struggled to walk a few hundred meters and then again in Scotland last year when, post the op, it was clear that things were not working well.  We have had lots of days thinking that 1000m climbing days on our bikes in foreign countries were confined to memories, but here we are again.  As we arrived at our apartment building for the evening feeling tired but elated, it felt particularly special.