Don Quixote in Zamora

 “Too much sanity may be madness — and the maddest of all, to see life as it is and not as it should be.”

Miguel de Cervantes, Don Quixote (Part I, Chapter 25)

Rest Day in Zamora

Going on pilgrimage in Spain likely places you in the same category as Don Quixote. One of the most difficult challenges of the Camino is not pushing forward but rather giving yourself permission to stop. The trail passes through extraordinary towns rich in art, culture and history. Seville, Merida, Salamanca and Zamora are the traditional places where pilgrims grant themselves a rest day.

Yet Salamanca was only a stage ago, and taking another pause so soon feels hard to justify. Complicating matters further, we must also decide whether to veer north toward Astorga and perhaps venture onward to the Atlantic near Gijón, or to continue westward on the Camino Sanabrés toward Santiago de Compostela.

In this indecision, we felt a kinship with Cervantes’ wandering knight, Don Quixote, who set out with his faithful companion on a fool’s errand to uphold nobility in a corrupt world. Like him, perhaps we too are chasing windmills, embarking on an irrational trek across a nation in search of some kind of self-improvement. And today, very much like the Don, we found ourselves tilting at windmills in another impossible quest, simply trying to find something open in Spain on a Sunday or Monday.

Much of the morning was taken up with enjoying staying in bed later than usual and with small errands. It wasn’t until 9 AM that we finally ventured out to what seemed to be the city’s only open bar for breakfast, savouring café con leche and tostada. The next couple of hours were spent confirming, via WhatsApp and email, that we could stay a second night in our room. By noon, with the logistics settled, we were finally free to explore Zamora, eager to step inside its many beautiful churches and soak in the city’s rich Romanesque heritage.  Our goal was to see inside as many of the city's famous Romanesque churches as we could.  

Cerrado on the Via de la Plata

Being a Monday, Zamora was predictably cerrado, or closed.  Additional signs around the city warned that many shops, churches, and sites would also remain shut on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Museums that were listed as open were, in fact, closed, and even the central church in the Plaza Mayor, with its distinctive monument to the Black-Robed Merlu, was inaccessible.

Most of the other churches were either closed or under renovation, leaving little to explore. 

The cathedral, when we finally arrived, felt heavy and dispiriting. The man at the entrance was surly, and a handful of elderly women scurried around, striving to position themselves in front of visitors as if to supervise their every move. 

Yet inside, there were moments of awe: a massive, vividly colored tapestry, 500 years old, offered a stunning glimpse of how history and human events have been portrayed over the centuries. 

Still, the cathedral’s interior was almost entirely fenced off with imposing iron bars, giving the impression that the building was more about protecting valuables than inspiring devotion. Perhaps it simply wasn’t a place that resonated with our style of pilgrimage.

Given all this, we resigned ourselves to simply wandering the town—birding in a small local park, circling the castle (which was closed), and stopping by the regional churches (also closed). By mid-afternoon, we finally decided to take a proper break in the central Plaza Mayor, settling at one of the few bars that were open. Even in our limited exploration, Zamora revealed its quiet beauty: intricately carved doorways, soaring Gothic arches, and streets lined with stunning architecture that spoke of centuries of careful craft and devotion.

Addressing Practical Realities 

After a couple of bottles of beer, we set off in search of an electronics or computer shop.  Without much fuss, we soon managed to find such a store and buy two 128 GB USB keys - enough to back up our journeys on Wind Surf and along the Via Augusta.  These, along with the growing number of images from the Via de la Plata, meant that space soon had to be freed up on the tablet that we use to edit images and give remote hiking presentations to nature and trail groups on.  

     

Such are the practical realities of photographing and later blogging a trail: protecting and backing up your work becomes a huge part of the journey. Sean carries the bulk of our electronics, including cameras, a portable hard drive, and battery packs, making him the unofficial guardian of our digital memories along the way.  Not a job I have ever envied him for.

Supplies and Resupplied 

By 5 PM, we made a quick stop at the DIA to pick up food for the night. 

Back in our room, we got messages from the New Zealanders and WhatsApp messages from two English pilgrims warning that little was or would be open on the coming stages.  The reality of the stages ahead began to settle in. The guidebook had mentioned that these sections had “unreliable hours and unreliable supplies,” but we had been quietly hoping for better. Accepting the situation, we returned to the DIA to gather provisions for the coming days, all the while wondering what the next stages might hold and where we should aim to head in the coming days.

    

By 9 PM, we were both exhausted and were ready to go to bed rather than wander the city. 

Decisions and Directions

Our arrival in Zamora brought us to the brink of a decision we have been debating since we began walking the Via de la Plata.   We now have only one stage left before we must choose which direction to go and what our end destination will be.  Our first option, which is the most popular with other pilgrims on the Via de la Plata, is to turn west on the Camino Sanabrés and follow it to Santiago de Compostela. 

Another option would be to walk to Santiago, but instead of picking up the Camino Sanabrés in two days' time, we could turn west from Zamora and follow the Via de la Plata Portuguese until it meets up with the Camino Sanabrés in Verin. 

A final option would be to 'complete' the Via de la Plata by following it north to Astorga, and from there either follow the Camino Frances to Santiago, or continue north on the Camino de San Salvador to Gijon, making our hike a 'coast-to-coast' walk across Spain.  What to do?

Difficult Camino Choices

We must confess that as we look ahead at the different routes, we are finding it difficult to muster much enthusiasm for any of them.  The descriptions are of very long stages that parallel highways, more stages listed as having no reliable services along them, and albergues with few available beds.  We have been walking in these conditions for five weeks now with only a few 'rest' days, and at this point, we are feeling ready for a break from the constant struggle with logistics. 

Perhaps it is simply exhaustion speaking, but this Camino has been unexpectedly challenging in ways our previous pilgrimages haven't been, and it has begun to feel more like an endurance test than an experience with space for inner discovery.   

As we sit in Zamora, trying to decide 'what's next,' we begin to understand something.  In the past, when we've asked pilgrims about previous routes they've walked, they have waxed poetic about the stunning coastlines along the Camino del Norte, the outstanding mountain scenery on the Camino Primitivo, the excellent cuisine along the Le Puy Way or Via Podiensis (GR65), and the addictive pilgrim culture on the Camino Frances.  However, when asked about the Via de la Plata, everyone has said the same thing: 'I did it.'   This is the longest officially recognized Camino route, and we thought perhaps their comments were an attempt at showing humility by understating their achievement.  However, we now hear this comment differently and now wonder whether they meant it as a statement noting that they were able to finish it.

We wonder if we aren't the only pilgrims out here who are starting to feel like the Via de la Plata is a test of endurance and determination rather than the type of pilgrimage route that encourages us to move farther along our inner pathways.

Tonight we head to bed grateful for the opportunity to be on pilgrimage, and with the hope that we find both direction and peace in the days ahead.

See you on the Way!