One horse town and definitely no fiesta

Granja de Moreruela is waiting. For something to happen. I sat in the main street for half an hour, and one car went past. Despite that it has a resident English speaker, a widow whose husband was English. And a nice pharmacist who does not speak English. We all compared grand baby photos, the universal language.

The walk to get here had two definite halves - the first beautiful and interesting, with a church on a dam, water, flowers, two deer flashing across my path, a ruined walled town with another deer just below on a ploughed field - and the second long, tedious and hot. Enlivened only by a little snake crossing my path.Read more