Four at one blow

Medina de las Torres. Since Saturday morning we have been in Monesterio, as we arrived too late in Montemolin on Friday evening and the local town hall had already closed. So we waited for Monday morning. Normally, town halls open around this time – in Montemolin they only start working on Monday afternoons. However, the door to the large building was open, and we heard voices from one of the rooms in the hallway. I knocked, went in – and burst right into a meeting. About 40 mostly young people in light green uniforms were seated in a square listening to a presentation. Naturally, all eyes turned to us immediately. I tried saying “Sorry” and wanted to quickly close the door behind me, but from the corners of my eyes, I saw many smiling and appearing very welcoming. So, while backing out, I waved our pass “Ruta Via de la Plata”, which prompted a chorus of “Oh! Yes! One moment!” Five or six young women came rushing in, gesturing wildly – I must have overlooked any young man present – and showed us on Google Maps where we could still get the pass stamped. Saved!

We got the stamp we had been waiting for so long and sped along. Only 15 kilometers separated us from Fuente de Cantos, our next stop on the Silver Route. That should be a piece of cake! We'll get that on our way! The hunt for stamps had seized us. It feels like a little scavenger hunt. Finding the towns is not a problem, but it’s not easy to locate the places where you can get a stamp for the pass. They are often in the town center, and only paths that would make the label “narrow alley” seem far too generous lead there. Honestly, at the narrowest point, there was at most a centimeter of space on either side. I had to get out and guide me. This always costs her an enormous amount of nervous energy because she is afraid that we will get stuck at the next spot and then have to retrace the entire way in reverse. What she doesn’t know: I’m not at all familiar with the concept of “reverse gear”. I’ve managed to get through everywhere – albeit with some scrapes. This time the rearview mirror took the hit.

But that is bearable, especially when looking at our “Pasapo”: Today we collected four stamps. The ink in the last two had already dried up. The tourists who last got a stamp in Calzadilla de los Garros were probably still traveling by carriage. We don’t mind. Tomorrow we set off for Zafra, a larger city (15,000 inhabitants), which is said to have a beautiful old town.