There is nothing much to report of this day, other than over consumption of chips and chocolate, and views of snow that was heavy on the mountains. In areas of lighter falls it was just like looking at the Myers Christmas window displays or cards with the delicate lace of snow on pine trees and patches on the rooves. Every other colour glowed in contrast.
While we waited half an hour to change buses at Burgos, I ran up the street and through the enormous portico to see the cathedral.
I didn’t dare to take the time to go inside, but ran all the way back, arriving with less than five minutes before the bus was due to go. The gates in particular were spectacular and should have starred in movies if they have not. The cathedral was very large with fairy tale towers and it was a bit sad that if this had been better weather, we would have stopped here, and now we were sailing on by.
I spent the last few minutes studying a WANTED poster with photos of members of ETA (the militant Basque nationalist group) on it.
We passed into olive and pastoral country, and finally arrived at Mérida in the dark. It was not raining so our move south to better weather was working so far.A beautiful modern bridge and a lengthy Roman bridge both led across the river and into the town. We took the near at hand modern bridge, reminiscent of the Sydney Harbour Bridge with a high arch over it. It had a very wide promenade for walkers and joggers in a slightly raised section, away from the cars down the middle.
The road led straight to our hotel where Keith had most proficiently rung the night before and done all the booking in Spanish. We had a little bathtub to help us unwind our aching, bus cramped limbs. We looked forward to exploring Mérida, a town which was one of the three main Roman centres in Spain.
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