Road to Nowhere: Salamanca to El Cubo del Vino

 “The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.”

Marcel Proust

Via de la Plata Stage 22

Return to the Spanish Meseta

The distances, stages, and days on the trail are simple matters of fact, but the Camino is always so much more than numbers. Each step raises countless questions, details, and experiences that no guidebook can fully capture. Our time on the Via de la Plata this year, through long, punishing stages, stunning landscapes, and unexpected challenges, has been proof of that. Today isn’t just another day of walking; it is a continuation of all that has come before and will undoubtedly shape the days to come. 

We’ve crossed the Spanish Meseta before, both on the Camino Francés and the Camino de Madrid, and each time it offered its own set of memories and lessons. This journey, too, is already shaping into something unique, stitched together from every hardship, kindness, and quiet moment along the way.

Early Morning on Camino

While we enjoyed the people-watching opportunities afforded by our balcony in Salamanca, it was a loud Friday night outside, and our windows didn't keep much of the noise out.  The bars stayed open well into the wee hours of the morning, and many voices filled the streets.  We realized this didn't really bother us much, but the occupant of the room upstairs came home around 2:30 AM and began talking on his phone at high volume, seemingly without pause. His monologue was punctuated by frequent laughter at his own jokes, which quickly became rather tiresome.  Whoever was on the other end of the line didn't get a word in edgewise, and given his volume meant that sleeping for us was impossible. 

Around 5:30 AM, we gave up on sleep and got up.  After a breakfast of chocolate croissants and instant coffee in our room, we headed out into the darkness.  The lights were on in the Plaza Mayor as we passed through, and the Civil Guardia were chasing the last of the tipsy revellers away.  As today began for us, yesterday was just drawing to a close for others.

Departing Salamanca

Today began with a sense of uncertainty. There were no guaranteed accommodations on this stage for 36 km. And although we had received a reply from the albergue in El Cubo del Vino through WhatsApp, the message was vague enough to leave us uneasy. As such, we set out this morning, hoping our long day would not end up becoming even longer.

According to the guidebook, this stage is already considered one of the more difficult stretches of the Via de la Plata, and at 36 km, it certainly feels daunting. For those starting their pilgrimage from Salamanca, with no time yet for their bodies to adapt to the rhythm of long-distance walking, it must seem an especially punishing introduction to the Camino.

Walking through the city, we made our way along a nice-looking tree-lined street, passing more partygoers on their way home. Crossing a roundabout, we wished the street cleaners a 'bon dia' in passing before arriving at a nice-looking ermita.

While it wasn’t a terrific section of the Camino, it wasn’t bad either.  However, some stretches are like that – just getting you from one place to another. 

A faint light was just beginning to brighten the sky as we made our way out of town, following a cycling route alongside a busy road.  We passed a large soccer stadium, a school, several highway motels and restaurants, and then we were once again surrounded by fields.  As the sun rose to our right, we could see isolated neighbourhoods, an industrial park, and possibly an airport across the fields.  

The colours displayed by the morning sunrise were beautiful as they raced across the sky. 

Aldeaseca de la Amuña

This was the first morning in a long time that we weren't cold.  We trekked along beside the highway for the first 5 km, reaching the first town on today's trek around 7:30 AM.  Aldeaseca de la Amuña turned out to be a tiny community, and while we had hoped there might be an opportunity to get a café con leche, everything was 'cerrado' when we passed through early on this Saturday morning.

Here we deviated from the GPX tracks we were following, which have so far agreed with the Camino markings, to look at the church.  The large group of pilgrims who had been following on our heels finally caught up, gave us a puzzled look, and then powered off down the highway, eager to be on their way. 

The church in Aldeaseca de la Amuna was yet another Iglesia that didn't seem to have a front, or an obvious front door. However, while we were circling the old stone building, we noticed another set of yellow arrows pointing further into the town. At first, we were reluctant to deviate from the tracks we had, but we took it on faith and followed these arrows out of town.

Countryside Camino

As such, for the next few kilometres we followed a dirt road through the countryside.  The fields around us opened up into a landscape that we recognized both from the Meseta section of the Camino Frances and from the Canadian Prairies section of the Trans Canada Trail.  

Interestingly, some pilgrims followed the same yellow arrows while others remained steadfast, tracing the edge of the busy highway.  Ultimately, both would lead to the same place – or at the very least, we would again see many of these people later in the day as we ventured through Calzada de Valdunciel. 

Continuing on, wheat fields and ploughed squares of brown earth extended out to the horizon in all directions around us. Behind us, snow-capped mountains rose up into the blue sky, but it was clear we had left them behind, exchanging the peaceful mountain meadows for extensive agricultural plains.

Castellanos de Villiquera

It was a quiet and easy trek for about an hour and a half.  We were very grateful to have dry feet for the first time in a week or more, and it felt like we were gliding along.  In this manner, we soon arrived in Castellanos de Villiquera, the second village along today's walk.  Our first glimpse was of a soccer field outside town.  Our next impressions came from a set of impressive murals that had been painted on the side of a pilota court at the edge of the town.  Little did we know that the huge painting of a grandfather and granddaughter was the first of many murals located throughout the small village.

Agricultural scenes were painted on the side of several buildings, and when we reached the center of the town, the water tower showed the Cathedral in Santiago de Compostela on one side and two pilgrims on the other.  The base was decorated with wheat stalks, and at the bottom, a large green grasshopper from the children's playground completed the picture. A particular favourite was spotting a colourful mural of a pheasant on a small outbuilding.

We wandered around that town for a bit, bumping into several pilgrims we've never seen before along the way.  Taking a rest day in Salamanca seems to have put us in a new group of hikers.   In addition to this, Salamanca is a popular starting point for many on the Via de la Plata.  

All of us were searching for an open bar for a café con leche, but we were out of luck.  Everything was still firmly closed, so we sat outside the church and had some granola bars and water.  Somewhat disappointed at the lack of coffee, we soon continued on.

Another stretch of wide open countryside greeted us.  By this time, the sun was shining brightly, and it was getting quite warm. We trekked between fields of wheat, canola, and hay in a minimalist landscape of green, brown, and blue. 

There was much less bird activity than in previous days, when we were walking through the treed dehesas. However, we did manage to see a new bird species - a Greater Short-toed Lark!  It was hopping along on the bare earth of a ploughed field and blending in almost perfectly with the reddish brown soil as it did so.

Calzada de la Valdunciel

Sometime around 10 AM and another 4 km into our day, we arrived in Calzada de la Valdunciel, the last town we would cross through on our way to El Cubo del Vino.  It was a tiny village nestled in the fields, and as in the previous two towns, everything was closed – with many having signs that indicated that shops were also cerrado on Wednesdays.   Which potentially means that stores in this region are closed on Sundays, Mondays, and Wednesdays in addition to holidays, siesta, and the random willingness of the owner.

At this point, we wondered if it simply wouldn’t be easier for Spanish businesses to list the day they were actually open.

As we took another break in the shade here, we watched as an American pilgrim, new to the Camino in Salamanc, had a screaming fit at a local resident for nothing being open.  He waved his phone at him, he waved the guidebook at him, and he argued in Spanish with him all to no avail.  All we could think was “Welcome to the Via del la Plata, get used to it.”

Roman Millario and Birding Lookouts

At the edge of town was a row of Roman mile posts which had been removed from their original locations and arranged in a linear collection with an interpretive plaque.  While this presented some interesting photographic and artistic opportunities, it seemed like a strange thing to do.  Perhaps development in the region required the posts' removal, and this was a means to preserve them.

Beyond Calzada de la Valdunciel, we came across an unexpected delight: a migratory bird lookout perched just outside the village. From here, the land opened wide, offering a panoramic view across the surrounding countryside and down to a small pond below. 

Thoughtful touches, including beautiful metal artwork shaped like birds and benches placed for quiet observation, made it clear this was a space created for both people and wildlife. Even though migration was not in full swing, it was easy to imagine the skies and fields alive with movement, the pond below busy with wings and calls.

Walking the Camino in the Meseta 

The Camino soon carried us back out into the open countryside, following a dusty track that led past the small community of Huelmos. It was midday when we arrived, the albergue was closed, and the village offered no amenities. With nothing to hold us, we pressed on.

The trail remained stubbornly exposed. Today, the conditions were manageable, but we couldn’t help imagining how punishing this stretch would be in hotter weather. With little shade and no respite from the sun, anything above 30°C would turn this into a difficult and draining walk.

Somewhere along a brief patch of shade, we came across the American pilgrim we had overheard before. He was visibly upset, his frustration spilling out as he told us how he had hurried from Seville, trying to cover as much ground as possible, only to find that nothing was open along the way. He didn't say hi, or ask any questions, he just rambled. His words came out in a rush, and just as quickly as he had arrived, he marched off again down the trail. The encounter left us a little bewildered - one of those odd Camino moments where you cross paths with someone briefly and are left wondering about the journey they’re on.

The track soon returned to its familiar rhythm: an undulating dirt path that ran alongside the national highway, fully exposed to the elements. The only liveliness came from the air above, where hawks circled and hunted over the fields. Beyond that, the landscape was quiet, offering little to distract us from the long walk ahead.

Water Route or Roadway Trail?

Eventually, the Camino brought us to the Riviera de Canedo, where a modern highway bridge loomed overhead. Here, the route splits, with a sign pointing pilgrims toward two options. One was a water route that ducked beneath the bridge, while the other swung out to the road before doubling back.

Hoping to save a few kilometres of asphalt walking, we optimistically chose the water route - only to find, perhaps predictably, that it was full of water. After a short and muddy detour, we backtracked and rejoined the official variation along the trail that led us back to the roadway.

From there, the Camino wound along a dirt track that paralleled the highway. Though free of traffic, it was never far from the steady hum of vehicles. By early afternoon, we found ourselves passing a local penitentiary.  We took no photographs as the Civil Guardia were everywhere and watching everyone who trekked past.  It was certainly not a great time to have a large camera clipped to Sean’s backpack.  As such, we kept our heads down as we followed the dusty path. 

At one point, grateful for a pause, we stopped in the shade where someone had cobbled together a makeshift wooden bench.

Soon, the Camino shifted onto a secondary dirt road beside the national highway. Technically, the route seemed to weave between white concrete posts that marked a grassy, overgrown corridor, but it was too muddy and choked with weeds to be practical. Like most pilgrims, we stuck to the bare road track. The landscape undulated relentlessly, exposed to the sun, and stretched on toward the horizon with little to break the monotony. Yet, in the brush at our side, the skittering of countless lizards brought a spark of life to the afternoon.

All around us, the trail was busy. Pilgrims appeared ahead of us on the horizon, while others straggled behind and spread along the trail.  After so many days of relative solitude on the Via de la Plata trail, the sudden “crowds” since leaving Salamanca were shocking.  While there was comfort in the company and seeing people once again throughout the day, it made us wonder what the impact on lodgings would be as the Camino continued on?

El Cubo del Vino

Around 3 PM, footsore and tired, we walked into El Cubo del Vino and shortly after arrived at the albergue  - Torre de Sabre Albergue Touristico. It looked very nice, with a lovely courtyard and a long table shaded by an umbrella outside.  Another pilgrim who was sitting outside told us the Hospitalario would be back in a few minutes, so we had a seat outside. While we waited, four other pilgrims walked in, as well as three cyclists.  Amid the group of pilgrims, we recognized no one.

Not too long afterwards, our host arrived and checked everyone in.  The price was high (75 Euros) for two, but we had a private room in a home down the street, and both dinner and breakfast were included.

We dropped our stuff off in the room (which had no lock and a decidedly unique smell) and went to explore the 'town.'  There wasn't much to it, but we found the Church of Santiago, and then the bar, which was full of locals.  Here at the Bar Hernandez, we ordered a couple of cervecas along with a bag of chips and were soon joined by the cyclists and a couple of other hikers.  It was an entirely new group, which made for lively and entertaining conversation. 

Not entirely trusting that dinner would include any tuna-free vegetarian options, and already hungry after a day of hiking with nothing much to eat, we went looking for the shop.  We couldn't find it, but upon further investigation, we learned that it would only open for half an hour around 6 or 6:30 PM.  While waiting, we went back to the bar to write our daily journal. 

To our delight, the shop was fully stocked, and we were able to purchase some snacks for tomorrow, as well as a bit of bread in case tonight's meal left us hungry.  As it turned out, we needn't have worried.

Communal Pilgrim Dinner

When we returned to the albergue, we found the long table outside in the yard set for dinner, and 10 or 12 pilgrims just gathering around for the meal. The food turned out to be delicious, including soup, bread, tomato salad, cooked veggies, lamb meatballs, and fruit for dessert, all paired with regional wine from the Ruta del Vino.  

It was also a lovely group of pilgrims, including a teacher from Capilano College in British Columbia and a lady from Washington - the first American we had met on this Camino.  The professor talked about the challenges he was facing teaching students in the age of AI, which was a very interesting conversation.

Searching for Answers in the Modern World

The sun had barely dipped below the horizon, casting a soft amber glow over the stone courtyard of the albergue. We sat at a long wooden table, bowls of lentil stew warming our hands, surrounded by strangers who as fellow pilgrims, had become temporary family. As often happens on the Camino, conversation turned reflective, touching not only on sore feet and scenic trails but on deeper questions about life, work, and purpose. That evening, we spoke with two educators - both were on sabbatical and both were walking throughout their time off to decide if there was a future for their profession.  

What they shared stayed with me long after our meal was finished and the dishes were cleared.

They were walking not just to connect with nature or to take a break from work, but because something fundamental had shifted in their classrooms.  Students were arriving into the higher grades ill-prepared, they were becoming ruder and no longer seemed interested in learning, and certainly no longer did the work.  

Assignments had become meaningless when they could so easily be generated by AI or answered with a quick Google search.  Essays were now written by ChatGPT, and assignments were completed by AI.    Critical thinking and original thought seemed to be slipping away, replaced by slick, instant AI-generated responses. Neither of them enjoyed teaching anymore as they believed that their role now was to simply be “the AI police.” 

In addition to this, they both lamented that they also couldn’t give tests when students hadn’t truly done the work, because failure would only lead to appeals and long meetings. Even in online classes, the Canadian noted, he couldn’t convince students to turn their cameras on, because face-to-face interaction caused them too much stress.  These days, if it was felt that teachers stressed their students, they would then complain and get out of the limited work that was actually asked of them.  

The lady from Washington State, a high school teacher, reiterated many of the challenges and doubts of her Canadian counterpart, asking, “If students no longer learn through effort and struggle, what is our role as teachers now? What is the point of education?”

Both teachers noted that people no longer seemed to want to have a relationship with knowledge or to learn, but instead trusted absolutely in their screens and knee-jerk beliefs and opinions.  They felt that because of all of this, the soul of education and their profession was being lost.

Finding Purpose in a Digital World

It seemed essential to us to have met these two, given that the challenges they are facing and the questions they are asking echo the very concerns that many carry these days.  

Their concerns struck a chord because they speak to the broader cultural moment and technological age. Given that we live in a world increasingly optimized for speed, efficiency, and convenience, it is perhaps not surprising that so many are setting out onto Camino.  After all, in a world that feels increasingly automated, where do we as individuals fit in? 

This is the type of conversation and question that will stay with us and for which we have no clear answer.  

Maybe the classroom needs a similar rewilding and renewal to what pilgrims undergo on the trail as they strive to reengage with meaning, effort, intentionality and connect to something that is tangibly real and based on lived experiences.

Perhaps people need to remember and show students that education, like hiking, is a way of thinking and a way of being that is learned through the challenges and lessons learned on the journey … often the hard way.  You cannot shortcut the process or the results and benefits learned and earned one step at a time have little meaning.  And nothing meaningful is achieved by taking the easy way.  

Evening Reflections

With so many questions and ideas in our minds, we eventually returned to the house where we are sleeping, stopping along the way to pet a lovely white horse that seemed pretty intent on biting anyone who came near it. There was a beautiful sunset, and the evening air was cool and peaceful.  It felt like a lovely end to a beautiful day on the Camino.

As we settled in for the night, several people ahead of us the Camino that we knew texted to let us know that nothing is open over the course of the next two stages and that the guidebook listed deviation to the village of San Mercel - which is purported to have a shop and bar was not worth it – both were closed for the coming month.  Clearly, the logistical challenges of the trail are due to continue. 

See you on the Way!