We slept in deliberately and just made breakfast. We are surprised at how cool it was during the night with the window open. However, on learning that Salamanca sits at an elevation of 820 m it becomes clear. Interestingly, Segovia was at 1000 m and Madrid at 650 m.
After breakfast we did our final tour of the city and visited one of the University buildings. University buildings are numerous here in Salamanca. The most prominent of them was the Pontifical University which may look like a church but was purpose built in 1254. There wasn't a lot to see, but the lecture rooms (aula) were interesting because they are so different to what we know. The highlight would have been the library, but access was not granted but a glass cubicle at the entrance at least gave a glimpse of the many manuscripts housed inside.
On our way back to the hotel we visited a free clock museum with items mostly from the 19th century with quite a few in working order. We wondered if the random chiming didn't drive the attendant nuts.
Well, the old fool did it again! No sooner had we stepped onto the footpath after taking a taxi to the train station than I discovered that we were missing a backpack - the one with our passports, some credit cards and cameras and the netbook. By this time of course the taxi had left and was disappearing into the distance. Crossing the road in the hope of catching another one to give chase did not work out. I threw the other backpack onto the pavement in disgust at my stupidity. A woman approached Joan offering to help and she spoke enough English to understand our predicament. They set off together to speak to a taxi standing at the rank, and the driver was able to call our driver and have him return. We were lucky yet again, but we don't want to rely on using up more of our nine lives. This incident was another example of how helpful people can be in a crisis here in Spain.
The journey back to Madrid was on another Media Distancia train which was a diesel motor rail and took almost three hours. The route approximately retraced the bus journey at least to Avila. It crossed the same flat but pleasant green farming plain which was occasionally disrupted by fields of brilliant yellow - canola or rape one presumes. The route then crossed the main mountain range and this revealed some very pleasant little valleys. It also passed through, but did not stop at El Escorial and we were fortunate to get a brief but unobstructed glimpse of the monastery. And to top off my list of pleasures, the train terminated at Chamartin station where I was able to marvel again at those four beautiful, sculpted office towers.
We debated whether to take a taxi from Chamartin to our hotel on the other side of the city, but I was able to persuade Joan to persist with going by metro. We only had to change lines once and there was not too much humping of bags up and down stairs. On the station for this change, which I thought would be in the suburbs, I mentioned to Joan that it was unlikely that pickpockets operated in this non-tourist area. FLW.
As I was carrying a bag up the stairs at our destination station, I felt a hand in my pocket but thought it was Joan hanging on. I looked around to see an unfamiliar arm attached to a short male person. He was in the company of several others and they must have screened Joan's view of the proceedings from the bottom of the steps. I put the bag down and grabbed him by the throat with one hand and squeezed. Luckily for both of us he did not resist so I let him go uttering a few choice words. Saved again by the zippered trouser pocket.
One other observation from my position - there are a surprising number of very short people here. Just today there was a such woman on the metro. We were both standing near the door and I swear she barely reached my navel.
Our last night in Spain is in a modern hotel in an industrial area, chosen for its proximity to the airport---which has yet to be proven.
The good things about Spain have been
- The really helpful people (in a crisis)
- The good weather - not too hot, not too cold - pretty right for Aussies
- The superabundance of historical buildings
- Fabulous art
- Good cheap wine
- The great scenery, especially in Andalusia and the delight of seeing snowy mountains
- The laid-back lifestyle - late rising, plenty of siestas, late night eating and slow walking
- The high respect motorists have for pedestrians
- For Joan, the pleasures of strolling - something not common in my company
- Getting lost and finding our way again
- Good beer, available everywhere
- Useful free city maps
- Generally good hotel rooms with plumbing that works well
- Good accessibility to areas that would be roped off in Australia and USA
- Very good public bus/metro/train transport - reliable, frequent, cheap, and with efficient ticketing
- Taxis not too dear
On the downside,
- Spaniards are not particularly friendly; they never smile and only speak when spoken to. Given the flood of foreign tourists, this is not that surprising. However they rise to occasion and are helpful when asked
- To our surprise, we were not that taken with the food available to mere tourists
- In Salamanca an unpleasant odour came from the sewers in many places
- Uneven footpaths and streets posing a hazard for rubber-necking signores mayores
- Inconsistent application of the "No Photography" rule in art galleries and cathedrals, even when you pay admission
- Scarcity of supermarkets in the old towns so you can buy water at a reasonable price, e.g. €0.33 for 1.5L as opposed to up to €1.40
- Lack of public toilets (J)
- pickpockets
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