6 PLACENSIA AND MONFRAGUE AGAIN AND PIORNAL
Today is Sunday but I’m a bit behind. On Friday morning we walked on the disused railway that runs more or less parallel to the new one behind the campsite. Actually, I guess it’s the other way round. The new track was laid near the old one (but with less severe bends).
The walking track – another EU funded project? – goes for 14 kms. Super-smooth surface. Would be excellent for the bikes but they remain firmly wedged in the back of the car. The wild flowers are amazing. I counted 80 different species in four miles and I bet I missed lots.
We also had a conversation with a couple of nightingales – them and my phone’s bird-song app, that is (although this is apparently frowned on by aficionados!!). But there were too many leaves on the trees to see anything other than occasional flutterings that just might have been them. Little undistinguished blighters. I gave up after a quarter of an hour. But just along the path we disturbed a couple of bigger birds later identified by our birding guide as nightjars. Never seen them before. And, it’s true to say, that at a distance of about three metres they were so well camouflaged on the ground beside trees that they were invisible until they moved. I suppose ground-nesting birds need that skill.
We were going on an afternoon guided tour of the park so we stopped at the Restaurant Montfrague (the campsite eaterie) for lunch. There were three large tables of locals – 52 in total and us. We have discovered that, en-masse, Spaniards are a bit like Italians and, possibly, Greeks. They all talk AT each other – all at the same time and, because there were so many of them on each table, the decibel level was “substantial”! And it rose progressively with their consumption of wine and beer. The tables seemed to be in competition with one another in respect of their noisiness. Clearly all having a great time. We were waiting for the dancing to start – but it didn’t!
Our afternoon guide, Valentin, was a really nice and well-informed guy. We shared the trip with André and Henneke – fellow campers. Valentin showed us all three types of vultures (Griffin, Egyptian and Black). I didn’t know that the collective noun for a group of vultures flying is a “kettle”. While on the ground it’s a “committee” and when feeding on a carcass it’s a “wake”. So there you have the full run down on vultures!
Griffon Vulture
We also saw Black Kites on nest or just perched.
And (at considerable distance through his telescope) Black Storks and Imperial Eagles on nests and a couple of red deer stags.
We discovered that the taking of photos on our phones through the scope was a bit of a skill that we hadn’t completely mastered! We ended the trip with a picnic under a holm oak in lovely open country just outside the park. The best bit of the afternoon for Glenda!
This trip has been accompanied by “water problems”. First the rain and The water-logged North coast campsite. Then the “caravan island” situation in Salamanca. Now our site in Placensia develops a massive water leak. Unknown to us, because we were out, there were some massive excavations and repairs made. The water was switched off for an hour while we were in the park. Again un-beknown to us, the water was a nasty yellow-brown colour when it was switched back on. But it was unseen in our water tank. We pumped it into the caravan and over a period of a few minutes the filter (bran new as we left home) got progressively blocked until no water could get through. Lots of desperate fiddling by me and Michael (of Perth/Norway fame) late at night didn’t solve the problem. Eventually, the following morning, I cleaned everything up especially the seals, removed the filter cartridge and got everything working again – albeit with unfiltered water!
The campsite was very sorry. Can’t do anything till Monday. Nearest camping shop is Cáceres or Salamanca.
On Saturday morning we went into Plasencia for an explore. The city was established in early times because of it’s strategic location on the Ruta de la Plata – the Silver Route. This ancient commercial and pilgrimage route linked Seville in the South with Gijón in the North. It’s now re-incarnated as the Autovia (A66) motorway!
Parking was easy and free – just like Brixham or Torquay or more or less anywhere in the UK. NOT! In the historic centre there is a lovely square – lots of clothes shops, cafes etc.. After an hour or two we chanced on the remains of an old Roman viaduct – the Acueducto de San Antón. (To be fair, most Roman remains are going to be “old”.)
At its base there is a little park laid out for youngsters to learn road signs and traffic behaviour (which, incidentally, in the real world of grown up Spanish drivers, we have found to be almost exemplary. Very little sign of bad or inconsiderate driving!)
Afterwards we headed up the Jerte valley past the first campsite we had looked at. We stopped for lunch at Restaurant Regina??? Our first mistake restaurant-wise. Over-priced and under-qualitied.
Moving on, we branched off into the hills on the north side of the river. We found an odd collection of statues on the roadside at the Mirador del Valle on the CC-51 near El Torno. These commemorate the “Forgotten of the Spanish Civil War”.
Then the clouds engulfed us so we retreated to the Carrefour in Placensia to stock up on essentials. Fruit and milk were allowed but my chocolate had to be put back!
Having decided to wait for a new filter (to be delivered on Wednesday), on Sunday we decided to head back to the Jerte Valley again. But this time via the mountain road. Some 30 kms of twisting, spiralling, hair-pinning, single-track “road” from Jaraiz de la Vera to Valdastillas via Paserón de La Vera and Piornal. The first problem was finding the road out of Jaraiz – an apparently deserted town. Mrs sat nav (religiously followed by John) had us in the tiny back streets of town – and by tiny, I mean width of car plus 10 cms in places – hence “religiously” – a lot of praying. And after three different approaches, just as we did get to the (possibly) right road up the hill we were met by half of the town’s inhabitants blocking the road. They were waiting for a procession of all the other residents coming down the road we were trying to get up. That’s why the town seemed so quiet. “John, I’ve told you THREE times, the road we want branches off the main road AFTER the town…” OK, so the map isn’t wrong!
With little difficulty, we get to Paserón. But suddenly we are in the pedestrianised middle of the village having ignored the “residents only” sign. Well, I can’t read Spanish AND steer! A hasty retreat was made. The next section of the road was amazing. Up and up. Round and round. Backwards and forwards. Above the tree-line we went. Mainly acceptable road surface with occasional terrible bits – but the biggest potential problem was the lack of passing places and the total lack of verge in places. Luckily, traffic was almost equally absent. We met just two cars while we were moving plus a couple while we were stopped at a view point. “We’re not bringing the caravan up here, Barry!”
Viewpoint on the way to Piornal
Stupendous views apparently, but I spent most of the time watching for on-coming Spaniards.
Piornal, at nearly 1200 metres altitude, is the highest village in Extramadura. It also has the lowest number possible of open restaurants – zero. But it does have a campsite!!! Astoundingly, it looked almost full. Maybe the vans had been there for 10 years or more – deserted by their terrified owners who had decided that a one way trip up the mountain was enough!
However, we discovered that there was a motorway-quality, two-lane road down the other side into the Jerte Valley. A lot more EU funding I suspect. But at least that explained things campsite-wise.
All the restaurants in the valley were packed to overflowing with coach-loads of Spaniards out en-masse for their noisy Sunday lunches. Give up. We’ll eat back at base later.
On the way home, we had a walk on a path by a reservoir that Glenda had spotted the previous day. Another super-smooth path which went a lot further than we did. Masses of flowers (over 60 species spotted!) – there was a real alpine meadow feel to the place.
Sharing our walk with the locals!
Dinner on the terrace as the sun started to set. Lovely.
It’s now Monday – so I’ll stop this now.