Road, road and more road.

Once I left Zamora I continued north to Benavente. Just outside of Zamora, I rode through what I thought to be a derelict road of old, mud-walked houses festooned with graffiti and some collapsing. Only half way along did I realise that people were living in a few of the homes, people with nothing yet they could always smile and say ‘Ola’! A touching moment for me and a realisation of what I have—something I will not forget.

This image was taken incognito as I didn’t want to offend the lovely local people.

Once I’d passed some farm tracks I hit the road where this time the headwind was stronger and consuming much more effort to push forward, the heat slowly intensifying.

Above: 1. Squashed in the lift to/from the hostel floor. 2/3. Me contemplating the road ahead and asking myself ‘what makes a man do this?’. 4. Typical farm tracks from the town. 5. Something I beat in mind throughout the journey thanks to Headspace. 6. Heat mirrors on the road ahead, a constant reminder.

Benavente is only a stop-gap before I reach León and is a rather non-descript city/town which to me, looked like it revolved mainly around industrial estates—not much fun when I’d had a hard ride against head winds to arrive there! Without much to report, I found a home under a dried bridge and settled down for the night. I most definitely wasn’t going to pay the extortionate prices for a hostel bed.

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