Easter weekend

The next day started off windy as the last one. I had breakfast near Medinaceli station, which was a bit away from town. The town looked interesting enough but it was high on a hill, and I had a lot of ground to cover, since I’d advanced so little the day before, so I didn’t visit.

After that, there were a couple of things I don’t see everyday:

An emergency parking for icy conditions. Yeah, there’s pretty much no ice back home.
The same km on two different roads, in the same place.

It was then time to head into a nice river canyon, mostly next to the Madrid-Zaragoza train line and the Jalón river. Sandstone canyons were quite a landscape change from the usual.

I then arrived at the town of Arcos de Jalón for lunch, where I experienced first hand the “local shop for local people” sketch, from League of Gentlemen. Fortunately, one of the places was more accommodating, and I had quite a nice meal. Then I sampled a local delicacy.

Yemas, literally meaning yolks, are sugary egg yolks with glazed sugar around them. They remind me of Aveiro’s ovos moles, but somehow with even more sugar.

Since the road just ended on the highway and the alternative was quite a deviation, I went on it.

When I got off, I had a little trouble with the route.

Well… technically, it was passable.

A few km later and already at nighttime, the town of Alhama de Aragón appeared.

And right at the edge of town, a creepy abandoned factory was my campsite for the night.

Along the way, there were plenty of mosque-o-churches, in a style the Spanish call mudéjar, coming from the Arab word مدجّن [mudaǧǧan], meaning domesticated, referring to the muslims who stayed in Spain after the Reconquista and “converted” to Christianity.

I then arrived at Calatayud, a town that immediately tells you that there are no sexist aggressions there, no siree.

I wonder if this is like a country that has “democratic” in its name.

Sadly, it was Easter Sunday, so most everything was closed. Here are the pictures anyway.

The unimaginatively named “fountain of the eight pipes” and one of the city gates.
Those balconies don’t look too safe.

It was then time to head back into the hills, onto wine country.

Of course there are speed cameras for 23 km on this rural road.

After a night spent in a pine wood and some climbing, one of the dumbest signs I’ve ever seen appeared.

It says that the dashed line “only” indicates the center of the road. That’s what it’s bloody well for, ain’t it?

In this region, there are little structures called neveras, that the locals used to make ice. They’re about as tall underground as above ground.

And then it was time to head way uphill, and then a solid 25km mostly downhill, along the Herrera and Cámaras River valleys, all done in good time.

How about you? How was your Easter weekend?

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