Good Moro Toro

Carlos and I spent the morning in Toro, half an hour from Zamora. It was here that Laurie saw the festival of the Mother of Toro, with the young girls being given to the convent. The town was breathtakingly beautiful and as soon as we arrived we were offered some local wine to try. The sun shone and my happiness was soaring from the aesthetic pleasures which surrounded me. We entered the church which was cool and elaborately decorated, and an important archetype of its period. A young choir boy was arranging the alter table, swollen with the responsibility of the task and held a dramatic countenance of precision. 'Religion has many slaves' said Carlos morosely, 'well dressed slaves.'

We walked along the pavement, eating a sweet bread with cinnamon and pork in, and listening to the hum of bikers on their heavy steeds. Toro has a seductively simple castle on its hilltop which we admired from the outside as we could not go in. Then we walked out one of Toro's gateways to see a bronze sculpture that looked vaguely like the torso and behind of a bull, after which Toro gets its name. 

We headed back to Zamora for some lunch and in the heat of the afternoon, curled up in the dark living room and watched Demi Moore having baths in the Scarlet Letter. It's funny because when I'm walking I hate the shuttered houses, it feels like there's been an apocalypse which everyone's forgotton to tell me about. But when you're inside, and it's hot out, it feels so nice, especially because it's Spain and you know the sun will be there tomorrow, so afternoon tv isn't really that blasphemous. 

Later Carlos took me to his family home on the outskirts of Zamora. We fed the chickens and played with the dogs, and looked across the plains to the city. Everything around the garden or in the house his mother and father had made; from the wine and chorizo, to the furniture and garden BBQ. The weather was wonderful and it was one of the few times that actually felt like I was on holiday and not embarking on a challenge.

We went back to Zamora and weaved through the streets with various of Carlos' companions, picking them up and dropping them off as we walked, the way you can when it's warm. I finally let myself have a proper drink and was elated with the results; I felt so loved and everything tasted amazing. Leaving tomorrow didn't feel scary but I would miss Zamora.