I got up easily this morning. There was no morning fatigue in the way that there has been on many occasions on this journey. Instead there was a surge of adrenalin and excitement in anticipation of reaching Cuellar later today. Its around about the sixty kilometer mark from Medina to Cuellar so it should be a straight forward spin today. My main concern is the weather. For the las tleg of the journey I'd love to have a fine, bright day, dry at least. Thankfully, as I leave the accomodation it is dry though overcast.
I cycle out of the quiet, empty plaza and along the equally deserted Calle Padilla, cross the river and make for the outskirts of town. I pass by the castle, take a last look at its imposing height up on the hill before looking east wards and taking the road for Pozal de Gallinas and Olmedo which will take me where I want to go. Its dull and overcast overhead as I pass through the small, sleepy town of Pozal. Very little is stirring here save for a couple of unseen dogs that keep me on my toes with their barking. As I leave that town behind raindrops are beginning to fall. Very quickly I get annoyed and frustrated. It wasn't supposed to rain today. I pull on my waterproofs resentfully and push along the road, head bowed against the wet.
If there's a consolation on the road this morning, its that its flat and there's no wind. The level, almost treeless plain is broken by the odd small rise and a few ridges that break the horizon. There is little traffic on the road this morning, thankfully, as the cars that do pass by zip past at speed, showering me with a heavy spray in their wake causing me to vent my annoyance by shouting a few well chosen curses in their direction.
By mid-morning I get to Olmedo where there are a few signs of life. The centre of town is bounded by its sand-couloured crumbling old medieval walls. Regretfully I don't enter the town as the road I'm on skirts around the edge of town to a junction where I follow a signpost for Cuellar. By now the rain is falling persistently and a heavy mist has descended obscuring the road ahead. With no views to distract me I keep my head down and concentrate on keeping a steady even rhythm and try to forget that I'm becoming uncomfortable damp.
As I reached the town of Iscar, Cuellar lay only 20kms ahead. By now, the rain had eased off and I stopped for a breather and to step out of the damp water proofs. I stopped to take a photo of a ruined castle high up on a nearby hill and then took a slow, leisurely spin through the centre of town. After Iscar the landscape began to change. A high ridge appeared along the skyline ahead, marked by a flat-topped hill that looked as though it stood guard over a broad gully that had cut its way in to that ridge. The small hamlet of Mata de Cuellar which a short distance before the flat-topped hill announced that I was entering the final stretch of the journey. Following the broad gulley through this table land the road passed through San Cristobal de Cuellar and I knew that I had to be in the vicinity of my destination. Beyond San Cristobal the road rose up through the table land to emerge on to an open plateau. The hamlet of Torregutierrez stands as if on guard, perched on a small rise overlooking the road as it emerges into the open only a kilometre or two short of Cuellar which is visible.
Although soaked and cold I enjoyed the last kilometer looking at the town ahead of me as it slowly spread out, savouring the moment of arrival. I stopped at the sign post that announces Cuellar, touched it and took a photo before pushing on into the town. The road I was on led directly to a castle that sits on thupper side of the old town. I stopped here at a carpark where a number of day-trippers and familes were milling about, perhaps considering where they were going for lunch. I was both sweat and rain-soaked, and the rain continued to fall with a very cold, wet persistence. As I lingered, looking around at some of the ancient remains of this old city my body temperature began to drop rapidly. The rain was almost falling as sleet. My hands were painful with the cold and after ten-fifteen minutes I began to shiver. Much as I wished to I couldn't afford stay here as I was. To stay warm I had to keep moving. I made my way down through the town centre and found the bus station. Considering what to do I decided to return to Valladolid on the next bus. Much as I wanted to stay for a look I was too cold and too wet to be wandering the streets in this weather. With the focus now on searching for documentation in Simancas and only a few days left before I would return home the priority was to get back to Valladolid tonight. Tuesday being the 8th of December is a holy day and a bank holiday in Spain. The archive in Simancas will be closed and I could return then and spend the day exploring Cuellar. It seemed like a good plan as I stood shivering in the bustation and, with my mind set, I prepared my bike for loading onto a bus. The journey was over.
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