La Roda seems a somewhat nondescript small southern Spanish town but it has a pleasant, and inexpensive (36€), centrally located hotel. I decided to spend two nights here: having fully appreciated the strong tailwind today, I didn't want to battle the almost as strong headwind the next day. I might not have been in need of a rest day but I can always find use for one.

I checked the forecast not just for wind but for the temperatures for the next few days. Not good news.

No cooling trend visible. Rather the opposite. Time for a reconsideration of my plans?

Apart from one day, I've been handling the heat reasonably well. Although, no doubt, it is putting more strain on my body. Have I just been lucky?

How much, I wonder do I have in reserve? There is absolutely no-one on the trail, there is little shade, and if something amiss happens – to the bike or to myself – things could turn nasty very quickly. Is it time to exercise some discretion? The next few stages seem to be equally devoid of population.

Not immediately but I did come around to the conclusion that giving up on the Camino for now might be prudent. I'd had a good ride, almost 1100 km, and could come back here at a more reasonable time of year.

An old mountaineering acquaintance of mine once told me, after just retreating before a Himalayan summit, that "The only expedition that is a failure is the one you don't return from."

I stayed a few extra days in La Roda while I came up with Plan B. Why not go to Pola de Lena, the small town in Asturias that I thought would make a good home, and get to know it a little better.

Bus or train? The bus would mean bagging my bike. But I'd also have to get back to Albacete to catch the bus to León or Oviedo, close to Pola de Lena. If I selected Media Distancia trains, I could (apparently) just wheel my bike on and off.

On morning, at reception, I enquired about a repair for the failing straps on my bike bag – I'd need to do this before my flight home and this seemed a reasonable place to do it. A lady employee was called, she offered to take the bag home during her break, and return it to me at 8:00 pm before she started work again. Wonderful!

I stressed that I wanted it to be strong and I didn't really care what it looked like. Well, it came back looking just fine. And, however hard I tried, she refused to take any payment. She did accept a hug.

There were heat warnings in the news for much of Europe. My brother Chris was escaping London to the relative 30°C cool of Cardiff for a few days. My immediate surroundings showed mid to high thirties everywhere.

There was a Media Distancia train from Albacete to Madrid that stopped in La Roda. I'd have to change stations, and overnight, in Madrid – unless the first train was on time and if I could travel between stations in thirty minutes (rideWithGPS said 40 minutes). Best get a room for the night, I thought. The next day, I could get an afternoon train to León, arriving about 9:00 pm. A plan!

But some of the trains were full. It looked like my best bet was to arrive in Madrid on Saturday evening and proceed to León on Sunday.

And all went according to plan!

I had read, or thought that I had read, that the bikes traveled at the front of the train. Nope, I was directed back to another carriage, the carriage marked on my ticket. Rather than suspend my bike from a hook on the side of the carriage, I strapped it to a handrail. There was still room for people to get by and no-one seemed concerned.

The train rushed effortlessly past dirt roads just like the ones that I had ridden. It didn't look particularly hot out there from the comfortable seat in my air-conditioned carriage but an overhead display indicated otherwise. 40°C at almost eight o'clock in the evening.

I was missing the daily riding routine but not second-guessing my decision to abandon the Camino.

It still felt oppressively hot when the train arrived in Madrid. I loaded the short route to my hotel and set off as it began to darken.

The ride next day to Madrid Principe Pio station was longer, about eight kilometres, was mainly downhill. I didn't leave the hotel until the crack of noon – checkout time – but I still had hours to wait at the station for the train's departure. A hot long wait. But then an easy ride from León station to the Hostal Boccalino.