Moreover, he hath left you all his walks,
His private arbors and new-planted orchards,
On this side Tiber. He hath left them you
And to your heirs forever—common pleasures,
To walk abroad and recreate yourselves.
Here was a Caesar! When comes such another?
Early this morning I walked on the English downs. A little later I was back on the southern tablelands with its oaks. This afternoon as I walked towards Salamanca, I was on the Canadian prairies with the wheat waving in the wind.
A few miles out from the village after a long climb up a gradual slope I could see the city of Salamanca in the distance.
It is often tedious entering a big city, walking for several kilometres through a built-up area, but I walked into Salamanca along a bicycle path cum walkway which parallelled the highway and overlooked an undeveloped river valley where people were strolling or walking their dogs. And the entrance to the old city is magnificent: a walk across an old bridge towards the cathedral, and then up into the old town.
The Plaza Major is supposed to be the most magnificent in Spain. It is huge, and vibrantly alive. Students walk, talk, sit, even lie about the square, and of course, extending out from the arcades which border the square on all sides are the tables with waiters bustling about bringing drinks, even today when it is barely warm in the sun.
I am sharing a room in a hotel with Peter the Dutchman, for we thought, wrongly as it happened, that the albergue was full. Peter is staying in Salamanca for he has already walked the next part of the Camino. He is a former history teacher, passionate about his subject. I have enjoyed our conversations and learned a lot.
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