Today we froze

My travelling companion and I are spending so much time together that we're talking at cross purposes. I just told him how many page views I had yesterday and today and he thought I was giving him temperatures for Honiton (in the UK)! He must be feeling nostalgic for home because he's been checking out 'home' temperatures.

We took off for local pastures new this morning, to check out a recommended (by the bird book - the third person in our marriage) walk in and around the gorge of the Rio Riaza, a few miles north east of Sepulveda. Apart from a few mad public holiday weekend motorists on the autovia, it was easy to find (not always the case). Again, some of the scenery was vaguely Dartmoor-like and with the sun shining, all looked and felt beautiful - from the inside of the car.

Outside it was freezing, thanks to a truly bitingly cold wind from the north - most likely from Beer (home). We were only going to pop out and walk for a bit, so didn't particularly wrap up or (more importantly for me) take any food. As my paces are counted in an app on my phone, I can record that we clocked up 16,091 before we returned to lucky Sylvia. She was left basking in the sun and had a full tank and so wasn't hungry. 

I stumbled on a stone in the otherwise flat road on the way back and was partially lame and hobbling, at the same time as hallucinating about 'proper' food. Cooked food. Mushrooms, onions, sprouts, pumpkin (?), onion gravy, nut roast, bubble and squeak, fried eggs, chips (!), carrot (singular), petit pois (?), not brocolli..... 

We had some nice fish last night (Merluza) (Hake) - I say night, because it was very late - and that was it, just fish. I should mention before we leave tomorrow, that our hosts are lovely. It's good that they don't speak a word of English because it means that my every word of Spanish counts. Mr. host explained in Spanish this morning that we wouldn't see any corking birds unless we took off in the car. 'The car' was pretty much the only bit I understood, but the rest was gleaned from his body language and exclamation of 'perfecto' when we showed him where we were intending to go in 'the bird book' (or he wanted us out for the day).That book has a lot to answer for as it's ten years out of date. 

A slice of the walk - can you spot the ruined church?

Me - head into the wind, too frozen (and hungry) to look up

We saw and heard a Wryneck here - me limping and starving

A country church

An unloved house

Hot and sweaty

It turned Spanish hot today and I sweated in the gorge of the Rio Duraton. 

A chunk of the walk

A closer look - where I found an Ortolan Bunting

And much much later, I soaked my feet in cold water and hung them out to dry on the narrow balcony.

Sepulveda - difficult to make look attractive

I can see this a way off from the balcony, as well as passing Choughs and Griffin Vultures.

A reminder of home

This is the first one we've seen on this trip and was singing in Spanish.

My Ortolan Bunting

It doesn't look much but it was exciting at the time, so apologies non-birders. It was also a long way off - as usual. 

Last night's dinner.

The starter Crema de calabaza y marisco was delicious. Pumpkin soup with prawns. I pushed the boat out with segundos (mains) and had a mixed salad of lettuce, tomatoes and asparagus. Ummm. Well - we'll see if this can be improved upon this evening. 

Stewed pork cheeks and Dupont's Lark

Today was mostly a travelling day, through mostly horrid landscape. In my experience, all countries have it. We're re-visiting a national park - Parque Natural Hoces Del Rio Duraton. Last time we stayed in a hotel in the very middle of the town of Sepulveda with tight-fit parking and a closed for re-furbishment restaurant. This time we're on the edge of town in Hotel Puerta Sepulveda with easy parking and a restaurant.

It was really difficult to find food last time and I haven't forgotten that it wasn't the best (that's a non-meat eating optimist speaking). I'm taking in some evening sun by half hanging out of our slim balcony with a great town view, translating this evening's menu. 

The Spanish love their meat and in my experience have little or no concept of others who don't share this passion. I was served with a vegetable soup at the Parador which was half ham and half veg. The fish course was carefully decorated with a pile of bits of meat - you get the drift. So let's get translating on Segundos (main courses).

Carrilleras de cerdo guisadas - Stewed pork cheeks
Escalopin de ternera al oporto - Port wine veal steaks
Lomo adobado al roquefort - Pork loin marinated with roquefort
Chuletillas de cordero - Lamb chops
1/4 Cordero asado - 1/4 a roast lamb 

There is wine I suppose, although the restaurant doesn't open until 9.00pm which doesn't allow for too much pacing time afterwards in preparation for a reasonable night's sleep. 

We visited the tenth century Iglesia y Monasterio de San Frutos on the way here this evening. I managed to photograph three special birds within the space of twenty minutes just after we left at 6.00pm. Bird pictures first and there's no time left for the monastery as it's time for dinner (!)

Dupont's Lark

Calandra Lark

Tawny Pipit

Iglesia y Monasterio San Frutos

The monastery is almost surrounded by water

A rocky day

Essence of today

A nippy wind, noisy rivers and snow. 

Blue sky for a while

It's as cold as it looks, unlike two years ago at this time of year when it was hot and crawling with people. Only a handful of birdwatchers today.

The well known walk at La Plataforma, Sierra de Gredos

It looks neat and tidy but it was wobbly walking underfoot. We made it as high as 6 200 feet and gave up when the wind and chill factor increased and walking turned to scrabbling.

Ibex on the run

Soppy Ibex

This one was glued to a rock - easier than butterflies but not a beauty.

You have to have a Rock Bunting when in rocks

And a Rufous-tailed Rock Thrush

...who is breaking with convention by opting for the grass. He was a long way off when I took the picture.

 

Parador corridor

This is half the length of the corridor outside our bedroom and is where I pace now and again to make up each day's mileage. I don't intend to find out how far walking the length of all the corridors would be, but mark my words it would be a long way. 

Had to share this as there's not much human related activity to report. Hardly anyone speaks as there are only a few guests accommodated along the thoroughfares. I have only uttered a word or two of Spanish in two days, except for trying to get the room heating off last night. This required a certain amount of engineering vocabulary and much bending down under the government regulated radiator. I have said hola to the few English birders today, but I don't suppose that counts.

Sierra de Gredos

We've moved into familiar territory today, visited on our trip two years ago. We're sitting in our latest hotel, the fabulous Parador de Gredos looking out on 'Leona Lewis Wood'. This is the place on the previous visit where I meant to play some birdsong to attract a particular little beauty and I mistakenly touch something in i tunes and nearly had a heart attack when Leona began belting out a amplified Whitney song. I panicked (as you would) and couldn't turn her off. It was a memorable event in my birdwatching calendar.

The woods are at the back of the Parador and we eyed it enviously when we were here last time. And here I am, sipping yet another gin and tonic looking down on the aforementioned wood, from the lap of luxury. 

We stopped on the easy, sunshine-filled journey to walk by a fast flowing Dartmoor-like river where I saw some gorgeous butterflies. This was one of our best picnic spots. Also encountered Spanish Bluebells, horses in meadows, fierce black cows with pointy horns (from the car), a castle, snow-capped mountains, and winding mountain roads with hair pin bends and steep drops. 


 

There are Storks everywhere

The most interesting and unique nests are usually seen when whizzing past at speed in the car, so I thought it was time I made an effort. This is neither, but it's a start. Storks on churches will follow.

Travelling scenery

A Spanish Festoon Butterfly

I could have chased these all day

An Orange Tip

These were even more chaseable and would brighten up any day.

View from our latest window

With a privileged view of the Leona Lewis Wood. 

Belvis is not Elvis

Tonight is our last in the tiny bungalow alongside the sounds of Little Owl and branches making animal-like sounds on the roof. I'd hoped it was animals (Possoms or a Mongoose - I know, wrong country). 

We saw the Little Owl going into its nest in a Cork Oak tree from the terrace by the tiny restaurant yesterday evening. I had high hopes that this was just the beginning but nothing much happened after that. This isn't a particularly bird-rich area and we travelled a few miles (about 50) to re-visit the Spanish Imperial Eagle site today. We were entertained by the pair coming and going to and fro their nest as before, but this time the temperature has increased to a hot 23C.

We re-visited the castle and its Griffin Vultures at Monfrague, which was also the site of school visits by hoards of Spanish children. For some unexplained reason (Tilley hats, long-sleeved shirts, anaemic looking, camera wielding, exuding Englishness, marvelling at everything), the naughty boys took great pleasure in mimicking us when they weren't climbing the precarious walls with sheer drops. As Spanish kids, one can only assume they've been brought up with rocks and drops and generally don't fall. The teachers didn't take any notice. The ice-cream/cool drink/junk vendor was repeatedly inundated by over-heated groups of youngish children and as the Griffon Vultures and Eagles weren't performing well in the heat, the kids were mesmerisingly watchable - by me anyway.

Earlier, we walked across the road into the village of Casas de Belvis to buy bread and cheese. It was not a happening place in any way. Nothing was moving or shaking. We almost walked past the shop without noticing what it was - as anyone would.

The village shop

Where we bought the bread and tough old sheep's cheese.

Sue's sign drew out attention to the shop

The Pensioners' Club

We would have popped into the pensioners' club if we had the language - and evidence that we were pensioners.

Monday is washing day in Casas de Belvis

The most/only decorated house in town

A typical street

With round granite containers used for planting. I don't know what they would have been used for. 

Heading to the mountains tomorrow and a posh parador and change of scene.

The hills are alive with.....

... the sound of Julie Andrews singing during last night's dinner. Barely a word of English is spoken and as the sole guests we are honoured with music from the home country. It wouldn't be at all surprising if the young Julie Andrews came skipping through the landscape.

Big view from the bottom of our tiny house garden

Beautiful cows

If I had to be a cow I would be one of these. They are in every meadow and place where grass can be chewed. These are definite candidates for Countryfile. Not only are they attractive to look at but they don't give piercing stares at humans prior to launching into a huddle of frightening following, often at an alarming speed. Surprisingly these tend to stare shyly before turning away with their rather hefty calves skipping alongside. Most of the cows seem to have their calves with them and it's a lovely sight to see. Apparently the cows are very tough because they have to survive the Extremaduran high temperatures and to deal with the chewy dry grass in summer.

Start of the walk to the cows

Well actually, it was meant to be a walk to find birds. There were loads singing and soaring, including the noisy and not easy to see properly Azure-winged Magpie and my favourite, the jet fighter Bee Eater.

Belvis, not Elvis or Pelvis

Goodbye tenth century buildings (even older than I thought) stuck up on the top of a steep hill with the remains of a castle and its castellations and hello to a compact modern bungalow in pretty, bird-filled countryside on the edge of the village of Casas de Belvis. Yes - Belvis, not Elvis or Pelvis. 

We are number four of about five minute homes, laid out overlooking trees and more trees and some tiny fields to match. Each is planted with a lush garden of its own out front. With most of the windows wide open, it has the camping feel of being outside. I can watch birds swoop about from tree to tree making a din at the same time as sniffing the evening air and unbelievably the sun is out. 

There are children out and about which adds to the camping feel. The non-camping feature is reflected in the occasional grump of frustration coming from the other computer user in the nearby tiny bedroom whose new laptop is behaving badly and is repeatedly rejecting the wi-fi network.  I sympathise as mine has been terrorising my photographs in one way or another. I got my own back by downloading Picasa yesterday and apart from having over two thousand photographs floating about unmanaged, I can now go back to editing before posting on this blog (I think). If I can remember what I did yesterday.

Fortunately we don't have to cook (as per some camping), as our order has been taken and we will be fed in the dining room across the way, which has a small terrace overlooking the trees and fields. Our order was taken from another lovely person (our host Jose and his wife are lovely), who not only knows not a word of English but speaks very rapidly in Spanish without waiting for answers, body language or anything else. All my recent Spanish learning went right out of the open windows. Thank goodness for pen and paper, except that I was in such a tiz by then that I wrote 'swordfish' (in Spanish of course) instead of 'cod'. If Jose hadn't come to my rescue I could have ended up having my throat stabbed with all those point bones - apologies vegetarian daughters. 

Fortunately I hadn't lost the ability to ask for a couple of beers and all soon became well in this tiny world. 

Ladder Snake (Rhinechis scalaris)

We saw this on a country road this morning. It was about a metre long and made up for a lack of exciting happenings. 

Red-striped Oil Beetle

It's just as well that this was only 5 centimetres long and not the same length as the snake. 

A flashy day

Sylvia edging out of town in search of some colour

Bee Eater

It didn't take long to find some colour and it wasn't raining, which helped.

Flowers were as flashy as the birds

Rare picture of a flighty Hoopoe 

A European Roller having a sort out following a night of rain

Flashy fields blooming in the long awaited sun

And the sun shone

.....for an hour or two which meant that I leapt here and there, hung out of the car, strutted off in search of adventure and to add much needed paces to Pacer. 

Sylvia, 'our large car for this town' was inched out of her parking niche with a necessary thirty eight point turn to get her round a sharp and pointy ancient granite wall. The reward was a nail biting squeeze between lanky and scratchy buildings to get out of this proper historical, chunky buildings with bits sticking out, medieval hilltop fortress. We need to do some thorough googling to find out who was attacking who and why. Right then, we were attacked by the horn of an impatient motorist. Just as well Sylvia has nerves of steel.

Our palace - Palacio Chaves Hotel, Trujillo

The wire adds character. The front door is kept locked, probably against invaders. Notice the shadows created by the elusive sun.

Probably my favourite Palace picture

This painting was the subject of conversation over breakfast

We were ready to write a culture and criticism based essay on this one by the time we'd drained the coffee pot. 

A change of scene

This was today's habitat. We got lost trying to navigate our way through a small village - as usual. 

The fields were full of flowers

And birds 

Which were a little bit more difficult to find. This was just one of many Red-legged Partridges which found us.

Back home - Trujillo at night