Salamanca, Spain

Friday, June 20^th, 2025-  Salamanca, Spain

         We were up very early today. We breakfasted early as well. Then, we all scrambled to get ready for the 9 A.M. 120 KM run eastward to Salamanca. Most of us were well-schooled with the program by now. We got on the bus early, settled in our sets and were ready to go when the launch hour arrived.

         The terrain across northwestern Spain and Eastern Portugal reminds me of the American South west. The predominant coloration is brown. Hay, grass and adobe homes all stood out with a slightly dried out tan coloration.

         Most of the ground cover is of the wispy, gold coloration of hay, which I think it was. We didn’t see much wild life on the run over, but when we came this way in the late afternoon, herds of sheep and cattle were everywhere about, munching on the hay to beat the band. Small herds of horses also grazed in the dusty, hot afternoon.

          The fields were often subdivided by broken rock walls. It is the same in Ireland, where the topsoil is not very deep and using rocks as building material is part of the local agriculture.  It looked like they were “growing rocks” in some of the fields, perhaps for sale a pets? 

          The fields did give me a sense of antiquity here, as I wondered how many times farmers had raised those fences and tried to grow a crop, only to have them run over by invading hordes. The legend of Sissyphus, rolling rocks up a hill, came to mind.

          The housing stock was either adobe or of ocher rock construction. The various small towns didn’t look to prosperous. We didn’t see too many grand villas. I got the sense that much of the area existed on a pretty basic level.

          As we approached Salamanca, the houses got nicer and the roads wider. Some 150,000 residents make their way in this northern Spanish City. The University here is one of the largest in Spain and the one of the oldest in Europe. Signs of habitation here date the origins of the city to at least 700 B.C.

           The area held special interest for me. A score or more of miles to the Southeast lies the good-sized city of Valladomo. A hundred and eighty years ago, one of my great, great Grandfathers had set out from here for America, probably one step ahead of the law.

         The Greeks, the Romans, the Moors, the French and others had swept through here in ethnic and religious waves. Persistent local claims point to even earlier Celtic tribes settling here. No wonder some of the locals can be contentious.

        The economy here is varied. Processing wine products and the production of filigreed jewelry, leather goods and other consumables meant a stronger economy than most. Shoes are a particularly fine product of the area. I guess that explains all of the cattle north of here. Like much of the Iberian Peninsula, tourism is one of the major drivers of the economy.

        The Bus dropped us all off at the City center. Like Madrid and Lisbon, the great central gathering place is called Plaza Mayor. The same rectangular shaped square, with shops and restaurants surrounding an open square, where children gambol and everyone strolls at night. It was crowded already by late morning. A tour with a local guide was scheduled for one P.M. 

        I viewed the surrounding topography and decided that I probably couldn’t keep the pace, so Mary and I split off to explore on our own. We had a general area of the late afternoon rallying point, so we figured we wouldn’t get left behind. It was extremely hot and in the high nineties out (F).

       We sat for a time, in the Plaza Mayor, enjoying a cappucino and a lemon tart. The groups of tourists drifted by, with the auditory trail of a  swirl of languages. Each small herd was following a guide, holding a different colored pennant. 

        People watching is always fascinating. The variance of color and mode of dress had us wondering from whence each group had come. I am pretty good with languages but several groups had me asking “HUH. Who dat?”

        We arose and started to wander to the Southeast and the major old and “New” Cathedral. The University also lies in this quarter. The brick facing, on most of the buildings, was a pleasant tan color. The uniformity is eye pleasing, like many towns in Italy.

         Various squares provided us with seats, to watch the mobs swirl by. Mary occasionally shopped for post cards and oddities, while I anchored our seats. It really was hot out !

         The “New Cathedral” (1600’s) was a pleasure and a cool refuge. Massive vaulted ceilings covered a variety of ornate naves honoring various saints. Polished wooden benches indicated that masses were held here regularly. The size of the Cathedral brough to mind a favored book, “Pillars of the Earth.”

          Connected to the “New Cathedral” is the “old one.” Though smaller is scale, the same gilded niches featured one saint or another. The Spanish are strong in their adherence to Catholicism. These massive structures are a testimony to that faith.

           From the Cathedral, we walked outside. It was broiling out. We espied and decided to visit the Salamanca Museum of Fine Arts. For an eight Euro fee, we entered into an interesting two-story building that had once served as a small Palace for some major domo of the 1800’s. Stained glass ceilings framed the two floors. A collection of fine porcelain figurines occupied many glass exhibits. 

           In one room, I could swear that we were looking at an original Degas. The sweeping, colorful pastels pictured a delightful Ballerina dancing on stage. It was beautiful. Closer inspection showed it to be a talented imitator. And a good one he was.

           On the second floor, we discovered an attractive, small bistro, in art deco styling. A Tiffany lamp and other 1930’s portraits, gave the impression of a French Café in mid 1800’s. We settled in for Sparkle water, cappuccinos and pastries. It felt wonderful to be basking in air conditioning.

           The afternoon was waning and we knew that we had a bus to catch.  Several inquiries about the named square drew puzzled look and a “Huh, where dat?” Finally, two construction workers looked at our map and pointed us in the right direction, bless their charitable souls.

          A collection of our own had gathered in front of the “New” cathedral, waiting for our companions to arrive. We all chatted idly of what we had seen and down.

           By 3:30 P.M most of us had arrived. Our guide started us down the hill to the pick-up spot. I would hate this walk in the rain or with snow and ice. It was steep.

           Our buses were on time. We boarded them happily, enjoying the A/C. Most of us were sleepy from the heat. Several had a nice nap on the run back to the Duoro. It was here that I saw the herds of cattle, sheep and horses munching their hay in the late afternoon sun. A few groves of olives and several varieties of trees that I knew not filled the pastures.

           Back at the boat we scrambled to ready for dinner. Seafood appetizers, eggplant soup, with a local white fish and Tiramisu for dessert met with everyone’s approval. I tried and enjoyed a fruity, dry, white wine tonight. We all did and gabbed to beat the band.

           After dinner, most of us wandered back to our rooms, to read, and drift off to sleep. It had been a long day on the tourist trail and this cowboy was beat!

                                                  -30-

                                              (1,287 words)

                                        Joseph Xavier Martin