I was full of apprehension for this day. It wasn't particularly far but it was a steady uphill all the way, looking at the elevation map. And Mérida was going up to 39C, so it was going to be a very hot one. As it turned out, it wasn't particularly taxing. Maybe a hint of a tailwind? Maybe the benefit of a day's rest?

That said, it was a bland day. A climb out of Mérida, then N630 all the way. Close to the autovia, A66. More traffic than I've become accustomed to. No memorable scenery but a few more kilometres put away. It was a mere 36C when I arrived in Zafra. According to my Weather Underground App, it also felt like 36C. Better than those 36C days in Sri Lanka that felt like 42C.

I have been a bit intimidated by the forecasts of hot weather – should an plump old guy be out cycling all day with the temperature in the high 30s? Probably not. But it hasn't felt too bad so far.

I'm also trying to decide on my route. The Via Ruta de la Plata continues to, and ends in, Sevilla. The Eurovelo 1 (the Atlantic Coast Route) cuts the corner to avoid Sevilla and heads directly Huelva, on the coast by the Portuguese border. Where it is about ten degrees cooler.

Due south to Seville for two or three days, then due west for a couple of days to Huelva had been my original, long-term plan. But, judging by my recent experience in Mérida, I'm not excited by seeing the sights when it's very hot. A Sevilla is a large city, another strike against it. I'd save about 100 km, following the EV1 to Huelva. And any time I did spend sight-seeing in Sevilla.

Accommodation, unfortunately, looks trickier on the more direct route. Also, it is the weekend, which always reduces the rooms available. I couldn't find anything for Saturday night but there is always the albergue option – it's hard to imagine them full. This combination of uncertainties, combined with some tiredness, was increasing my anxiety levels, a condition that has been wonderfully absent so far.

Monesterio is only 50 km down the road, with an elevation gain of five or six hundred metres which should be within my grasp. There was a room for Friday night and I could hope for some hotel not on booking.com, or an albergue if still on the VDLP, for wherever I ended up on Saturday night. My Zafra hotel, according to booking.com, is full on Friday and Saturday

I checked at the counter and, with a room change, they could accommodate me until the weekend rush was over. So, problem delayed if not totally solved. A couple of days to take it easy, then head out on Sunday. Not a very exciting plan but helps to manage my stress levels. I might even get this blog caught up!

On the road by 8:30; I had been aiming for 8 a.m. so not too bad! Out of Zafra on cobbles, then on a country lane road. Very pleasant. I stopped for breakfast in a shady park: some chocolate-filled cakey things, and some kiwi and lime juice (from Lidl) to take the edge off.

After a few kilometres, I rejoined the 630. Not much traffic. Riding through a grain-growing region.

And into Monesterio. I had the option of making it a long day, but possibly incurring an extra but necessary rest day, or stopping here. I checked into El Pila, a basic but clean hotel with a basic but clean room, a single bed and a shower that I could just squeeze into sideways.

I was out in time for a late Sunday lunch in a classy looking but reasonably priced restaurant. It was full – I was lucky to find a table   of people in their Sunday best. Me, not so much.

Nice wine. A salad of poached eggs and chorizo on a bed of fresh (of course) oranges. Cod for the second course. And tiramisu and coffee to finish. The coffee to counteract the effects of the very nice wine.

Getting behind on my evening note-taking for days' events, I sometimes resorted to using the voice-to-text capabilities of my phone, dictating into a note application. These can take a bit of effort to comprehend. "Tiramisu for prostrate" had me puzzled until I realised I spoken "...for postre," the Spanish word for dessert. It might have been my pronunciation but I prefer to think my phone was looking for an English word.

Then a nice wander around Monesterio...

Out of my room around nine in the morning having found it very hard to get out of bed. A short day in store and I seem to go for laziness at the start of the day rather than the end. I've been like that for seventy years so I doubt it's ever going to change.

The lady cleaning the rooms got her keys out to open the garage door so I could extract my bike. "Mas tarde" I said (Later?) and I was understood. "Desayunos" (Breakfast) and she knew I was off in search of something to eat before setting off.

The first thing I noticed, out on the main street, was that the town workers emptying the garbage bins were women, wearing quite short shorts and hi-vis vests. Later, the person emptying the large bins into the back of a garbage truck was also a woman, this one more conventionally clothed.

The place across the road that I'd noticed the previous evening was still closed. I wandered back in the direction of the bar where I'd enjoyed a couple of beers the night before. On the way, I noticed a few old men sitting outside a bar, one already into the brandy by the looks of it. I went in and ordered breakfast: café con leche and toast. With a sort of tomato purée and olive oil served to put on the toast. Then a second coffee.

It was nice sitting there, watching the old folk watching people pass. I could have settled in for a day of people watching myself but I had booked a room ahead so I had to get moving.

And a pleasant day it was. Quiet riding, still cool, onto gravel and some downhill. Then tarmac but still a quiet road, then a turn I almost missed watching the countryside roll by instead of keeping my eyes on my map! A quick turn around, to push up half a dozen high steps (there was a yellow arrow, pointing at me, to let me know I was on the Camino) to join the N-630.

I left the N-630 for a gravel shortcut, one side of a triangle (my road route specified the other two sides) that led more directly to El Read de la Jara. It would have been a shame to have missed this section: kilometres (around ten?) of beautiful riding through beautiful countryside and still quite a pleasant temperatue. A cycle-tourist passed going north. A couple of vehicles passed. An especially lovely hour or so.

At El Real de la Jara, some ruined castles. Then more quiet road. Up and down but nothing too vicious. I even took pleasure in some of the (up)hills!

The hotel in Almadén de la Plata is nice, too. 35€ through booking.com; would it have been 30 if I'd just showed up? That seemed to have been the deal in Monesterio. But I wanted to make sure I had a room so it was worth the possible extra charge for peace of mind.

I had a basic lunch at the hotel and chatted with a German cyclist. He lives in Bali, Indonesia, but is on a cycling holiday, travelling lightly on an electric full-suspension mountain bike.

A siesta, then a slow wander around town. Village? Not very large, at any rate.

Dedicated to the women of Almadén in 2020. I didn't notice any potential models for the figures on my wanderings around the town.

Tomorrow Sevilla?