Segovia

The campsite at Segovia is situated about 3kms out of town, it’s quite small and in late May at least, there was a surprising amount of grass everywhere - which is unusual outside the UK I find. A groundsman was already cutting it just after breakfast, when we were ready to go sightseeing. The site is conveniently on a bus route with a bus every 15 mins. so it was a no-brainer to leave the Landy at home and use public transport. €1 each way - any distance, is a good deal for us tourists and I don’t suppose it manages without public funding. The roads are smooth and the buses are like new so austerity in Spain isn’t all bad.

When we visited Pont du Gard in the south of France it was, to say the least, a surprisingly mighty construction, highly engineeed. Well here in the middle of Spain is another. Built by the Romans to convey water into the city in the same way as PdG provided for Nimes, the diffence here is that the aquaducto is right in the middle of the town!

It was also built without any mortar - the stone was so precisley cut that the pieces sit perfectly together without any slippage. It’s true that the whole construction has been renovated in the recent past but I can’t tell the new from the old. Not only are all the arches intact, there’s a town full of traffic that’s driving past, vibrating the ground more than the Romans ever did. Yet there’s seemingly no fear of anything falling.
Almost every block has an indentation in one face so I wonder if this is how they were hoisted - using a matching hollow in the opposite face and then lifting with one of those scissor things that applies sideways pressure as the weight is lifted. Or maybe as the Romans weren’t short of a slave or two, they simply moved massive quantities of earth to form a supporting hill as they built it and then, once it was complete, they just told the slaves to get rid of it all again. With plenty of control over their slaves I imagine that this would be a fairly simple task.

At the other end where the hill is less steep, the viaduct turns about 45degrees and continues with smaller arches until the slope disappears. We stood and looked in amazement - then we sat down and looked more (drinking a coffee). Then we walked up the steps at one end and looked again and then we walked to the other and looked even more.

If you would like to know more about the viaduct, I suggest that you look out for Mary Beard’s programme on the TV as she knows what she’s talking about and doesn’t just look and wonder (and she looks as though she knows what she’s talking about whereas I look like a tourist).

Once we had finished looking at the Aceducto, we walked up to the cathederal and then on to the Alcazar which is a crazy building that’s a cross between the Sleeping Beauty castle and a multitude of Rapunzel towers. Much of it was covered in scaffolding but we managed a couple of pictures.

Then, as it was almost 2:30pm we decieded to look for somewhere to eat lunch (Spanish time). We happened upon a quiet resturant in a back street and with the menu of the day at €11.90 to include a litre of wine, it was within budget (actually budget is bread, cheese and tomatoes but what the heck).
We had stumbled upon La Casa Mudéjar Hotel Spa, next to the Main Square and the Cathedral. This is a hotel and restuarant in a 15th century building - it turns out that it was a good place to drop-in. The choice was enormous and the waiter wasn’t satisfied until we had made our choice of all three courses and the wine. We sat back and waited so see what arrived and it was amazing value with a full range of dishes for Primeros, Segundos and Postres.

Two hours later we staggered out into the sunshine and realised why everyone needs to sleep in the afternoon in espain.
After further wanderings around town looking at Cerano hams and little suckling pigs hanging in the butcher’s windows, we jumped on the bus and €1 each later we were back at the campsite. Here the guy was still cutting the grass and the place was looking lovely.
It was a lovely evening and so we dug out the new BBQ - a Weber “Go Anywhere” and we ate kebabs with courgette and red peppers. Afterwards we dug out the plum brandy firewater and after one or two shots we invented a new word for Cheers! which is “Segovia!”.
This is only really funny if you follow the Eric Morcambe method of downing a harsh drink as follows. Pick up the glass, take a slug, swallow and as it slips down and fires-up in your throat, hit the back of your neck and simulaneously exhale sharply whilst making a small but noticeable shake of the head at the same time.
“Segovia"!

Portsmouth to Bilbao and the first couple of days in Spain

This was our first time on a ferry for more than about ten hours and is billed as a cruise ferry by Brittany Ferries. This one left Portsmouth at 22:30 on Sunday 22^nd May 2016 and arrived in Bibao at 07:45 (local) on Tuesday, so we had two nights and a full day on board. The ferry (Cap Finistère) is of a similar size to that on the Hull Rotterdam P&O route although loading seemed to take longer.

Somehow or other we were directed to a point just before a car mezzanine and our 2.4m (including roof box) would mean that on Tuesday we had to wait for that to be unloaded and then raised before we could disembark.

As we walked around excitedly exploring, it wasn’t long before we found our cabin – a spacious four berth, with just enough room for the two of us. On Sunday night we weren’t ready for the quiz in the bar and instead made use of the spacious cabin.

During the night Dawn discovered that her phone wasn’t on silent as it pinged two messages as we got within range of the Channel Islands. Two texts saying “Welcome to Jersey” are definitely not welcome at 3:30 in the morning.

On Monday morning we called-in at Roscoff (as planned) so that some crew and further passengers could embark.

On board there’s not much to do except sit on the deck and watch the sea go by at 21 knots. It was a lovely day and sitting out of the breeze was perfect. We sat back and listened to the conversation coming from a pair of English couples who hadn’t read the map and had no idea of the geography of the route. They didn’t know where Roscoff is (it’s near Morlaix) and couldn’t understand why we were sailing west from there (to the end of the Brittany coast of course!).

Brittany Ferries’ entertainment budget doesn’t stretch to providing any form of stage entertainment and so we were spared the invidious decision of whether to listen to “Bright” or ”Kim and Tim” as they weren’t on the billing.

The sea was calm although there was a period of swell for an hour or two which just made you wonder what it would feel like with just a bit more movement. Dawn got that look on her face and I started to wonder if the cabin was spacious enough to deal with sea sickness. Then it smoothed out and all was calm.

So we arrived on time in Bilbao and headed inland with a route avoiding the motorway (not to save cost but to see Spain properly). This took us straight up into the Cordillera Cantabrica, lovely “hills” rising to well over 1,500m.

First stop a Repsol filling station with diesel at €1.08, “so that’s a good start”.

We arrived as per the meticulous plan, in Covarrubias which is a beautiful old village with stone, half-timbered houses and a lovely square which was delightful in which to sit and drink a coffee.

Less nice was the campsite and if I say 90% statics then you get an idea of what it’s like. There were only two spaces into which we could squeeze the Landy; everything looked shut-up and although there were signs of one or two vans that were occupied, this early in the season it’s probably best not to trouble the neighbours.

I filled-up the water and found Dawn explaining to a Dutch couple who’d also arrived with great expectations that “it’s a bit grim”. So it was decided upon and we drove to our next stop on the plan, Santo Domingo de Silos.

The reason for coming here goes back to the 1990s and the Gregorian chant hits – I often listen to “The Dark Side of the Chant” tour – especially on warm dark nights outside. In this village is the monk’s monastery.

We listened to organ music in the church – a building with fantastic acoustics in account of it being so sparsely furnished and made a pledge to go back to listen to the monks.

At the information desk the nice man explained that we had a choice of Vespers from 19:00 ‘til 21:35 or in the morning, Matins at 06:00, Laudes at 07:30 or Mass at 09:00. As we hadn’t eaten or found anywhere to camp, we decided to wait until the morning.

As we wandered around, an English couple rode up on a motorbike said “hi” and then as we got talking it turned out that they were looking for the film set used as the cemetery in “The Good, The Bad and The Ugly”. They had been driving around looking knowing that it was somewhere near Santo Domingo de Silos but were unable to find it. They eventually spoke to a receptionist at the hotel, who had a little English and he knew definitely where it was – 5km up a track out of the village.

So off they went on their road bike -  KTM weighing in at 450Kg including driver and pillion – up the loose gravelly track, rising steeply from the village square.

We followed in the Landy – although maneuvering round the narrow streets was almost impossible but we too were on our way up the track. About 3km up we reached the top and there were the bikers (David and Karen from Plymouth). The remaining 2km was a steep downhill section and their bike was a deathtrap on that surface.

After realising that we could see the graveyard and stony circle that features in the final scene of the film, we suggested that we all go down in the Landy. Only one problem – the back was full of gear and so the only way for them to hitch a lift was to stand on the step at each side and hold on to the roof rail. So we made our way down.

This is indeed the film location for “The Good, The Bad and The Ugly” and there are monuments confirming this. We wandered amongst the headstones and realised that someone had probably embellished it a little for the recent fiftieth anniversary of the making of the film. It was great fun and David was clearly an aficionado as he could recount the scene and did so several times – especially when he found the headstone of Arch Stanton!

We delivered them back to the top of the hill and they promised to make their way very carefully back to the village.

Meanwhile we took one look at our surroundings and decided that the first night in Spain would be a wild camp. It couldn’t be more perfect – plenty of open ground yet bushes to hide behind – and a magnificent view.

We had a beautiful evening, didn’t hear anyone or anything and it wasn’t cold in the Landy. Next morning, we were up at 07:00 – too late for Matins or Laudes but we had a quick wash and breakfast and got to church in time to join a couple of dozen others to listen to mass sung in Latin and Spanish – magnificent. It was traditional though and there were no verses from REM or Pink Floyd. That’s what the iPhone is for!

It seems that this church is a tourist destination and it was only as we’re out of season that it’s quiet. In the holidays there’s a queue to get into the services.

Once we had finished the tour of Santo Domingo de Silos we headed south (Wednesday morning 25^th May 2016), past Aranda, to the ridge-top town of Sepûlveda. I can’t begin to explain the geology of this town, except to say that if you think sedimentary rocks, folded and exposed at all angles, then you won’t be far wrong. Here it was market day in the little square and we were soon wandering, watching and drinking coffee.

We saw a Stork’s nest above the bell tower and then were reminded of the loud clatter they make – the nearest thing to chirping that a Stork can do. It is all too reminiscent of the sound that I think triffids make when they sense your proximity – so I’m none too happy when I’m around Storks.

It’s amazing to see, as well as Storks, other huge birds such as Herons and Eagles – or are they Vultures? Big birds are commonplace in these areas of inland Spain at least.

Finally, we drove further south across the high plains to Segovia, dramatically situated at 1,000m just north west of the Sierra de Guadarrama, which is range of mountains stretching from south west to north east to the north west of Madrid. These rise to 2,380m near Segovia – confirmed by the expanse of snow still showing on the northern side and in full view as I sit here at the campsite.

We’ve come here to see the Roman aqueduct – one that rivals Pont du Gard in southern France, next on the itinerary.

Preparations

Here we go again, another trip in the Land Rover. For those that don't know, this is a Defender 110 CSW with a 300TDi engine, registered in 1996.

Since the previous trip to Greece and the Balkans, I have done further work to get the vehicle "up to scratch" which has been to replace the two sill channels, these are fastened to and run under the bottom of the three door pillars. Also I replaced the crossmember with a galvanised item (across the vehicle under the second row seats) and the aluminium heel up-stand under those seats.

This is the heel up-stand and you can see where the aluminium has oxidised (white powder or a big hole) at the point where it has been in contact with the steel of the bracket behind it, to which it has been fixed (at some point in the last twenty years).

I also worked on the engine - keeping it brief, I discovered that the turbo waste gate was jammed and must have been so since I bought the Landy in late 2014. The waste gate opens at a preset pressure to allow the extras boost from the turbo to be 'dumped' to the exhaust when it's not needed.

If it isn't 'exercised' enough due to the engine not being used then it seizes-up and it's a right b%$%**d of a job to free it off. This was done and so the distinctive turbo whine that we were so used to is no more.

Also I did a full service including all oils - engine, gearbox, transfer box and axles. The R380 gearbox - for the record, is now using MTF94 oil from Smith & Allan.

Another major job was to find and fix the source of a water leak, mainly affecting the passenger side, where water would cascade from the front corner of the headlining. After all the work in Greece last year, this still wasn't fixed. After extensive hi-tech pressure testing using a hosepipe I discovered that there was a problem with the fitting of the window seal around the alpine window. That's the high-up long narrow window on the edge of the roof.

I replaced both seals (another right b&£*r of a job) and on removing the old ones, I discovered that the passenger one was shorter than that on the offside. This indicates that it was fitted incorrectly and cut too short.

All ok now and we were off to Portsmouth for the Sunday night ferry to Bilbao.