We finished yesterday’s ride at the village of St Cristobal de Entrevinas, about 8km north-east of the larger town of Benavente.  We arrived about 3pm after battling the wind and collapsed for a few hours – feeling very much as if we are in our 60s (no pretence that the years can be rolled back).  However by the early evening – which in Spain is about 8.30pm – we had recovered, cooked some fish for supper and felt the need to get out of the tiny apartment we were renting for the night.  So we ambled across a few streets where there were at least 3 bars, gearing up for a full house on a Saturday night.  The first was heaving and we suspected it was a private party of some description, although there was no sign on the door and we seemed fairly welcome – but there was no chance of a chair to sit on or being able to talk with the pounding music. 

So we gently moved on to the second bar where we saw something that we have never seen before.  Most bars in Spain have a TV which is constantly on; usually showing football.  As we went into this bar (so beloved of locals it does not appear on googlemaps) there was near silence from a crowd of maybe 40 or 50 men aged 50+ (most 60+) who had their glued to a large screen.  The silence was interrupted by “Ohh” “Ahh” or shouts of encouragement.  As we came in we could see the audience but not the screen and so assumed they were watching football – but we soon saw they were avidly following the bullfighting, complete with matadors in full outfits and bulls with spears sticking out of them.  75% of Spaniards oppose bullfighting on animal welfare grounds, and I can see why because it makes fox hunting look positively benign.  There is an age divide, a city vs rural divide and a political divide.  Supporters tend to be rurally based, men over the age of 40 whereas the young and urban Spaniards are repelled by the “sport”.  Inevitably, this has led to right wing, nationalist parties championing bullfighting as part of Spain’s cultural tradition and it gets heavy public subsidy in some areas and is banned in other areas such as Catalonia.  However, as we saw for ourselves, it remains hugely popular amongst some demographics.  As soon as the bullfighting was finished, all the older men shuffled off home and the football resumed pride of place on the TV.  This is a country obsessed with the beautiful game and, as the results in various World and European Cups have shown, they have some fantastic players and teams.

But this is a blog mainly about cycling and not either football or bullfighting (although did I mention that Arsenal had won the Premiership for the first time for 22 years and are 0-2 up against Crystal Palace as I type this).  We had a fairly flat day ahead of us, but the wind was due to start against us but then swing around to the East later to be a side wind.  Should we start later and hopefully have less headwind but face the full heat of the day or start early and have the wind but not the heat. We took the first option and had what felt like a guilty lie in – only leaving at 8.30!  At the beginning the wind was light and we ambled along at about 20kph.  However both the wind and the heat started fairly soon and, although it was not quite as tough as yesterday, it was still pretty hard work mostly against the wind.

The countryside was fairly interesting, as this is plainly a fairly fertile part of  Spain.  We stopped for coffee at a village at about 30km and saw a farmer coming in from a morning’s ploughing to get his coffee – parking his enormous tractor with all the kit just outside the cafe.  It made us feel at home as that is exactly what friends of ours do when coming to our local village hall for coffee mornings.  There was also  a youngish couple who came in briefly, had multiple shots of Whiskey (at 11am), then had a flask filled for later and left.  We wondered whether they were bracing themselves for Sunday mass, or maybe Sunday lunch with relatives, but it was another example of all day drinking which is quite a feature on show here.  Maybe it is no worse than anywhere else, just more open and hence more visible.

After coffee it was a bit of a slog along a busier, straightish, flat road against the wind (which was not turning as predicted) and very, very gently uphill (but enough to notice).  We are still on the high altitude plain at about 800m up and we saw growing evidence of commercial activity along the road as well as farming.  But traffic was light and cars gave us a wide berth.  The Spanish drivers are, on the whole, very courteous to cyclists and we felt comfortable cycling their roads.

We were now pretty tired as the wind was sapping our energy, and we felt the effects of the previous day.  But we were driven on by the thought we had a fascinating place to end the day, the city of Leon, and no major climbs to get there.  The last 20km were easier as they were slightly less wind affected as we followed a small river with fields until the last few kms as we strolled into the city at about 3pm.  Our apartment is right in the centre, just off the Plaza Mayor.  It was great to arrive and we flopped down, feeling every bit of our accumulated ages of 130 years old!

We then went out to start to explore Leon – which has a historic centre and is the cross-roads for loads of “Caminos”, mostly heading to Compostella.  There were quite a few rucksack clad travellers wandering around looking tired and heat affected, but also lots of locals.  Getting all dressed up, looking super smart and then wandering around the city in pairs or small groups seems to be a social “thing” in Spain, particularly for younger women (but actually people of all ages).  It reminds me of the evening promenade that we saw in Turkey where much the same thing happens.  I suppose if you grow up in a place where you know everyone, and loads of people go out promenading in the evening, its a way to catch up with loads of people over an evening.  All very sociable.  We sat and had red wine and tapas, engaged in people watching (on of our favourite pastimes) and ambled back to bed.