Robledillo de Gata.
It is in the North of the Province of Caceres which is in the top of the Southern half of Spain with Portugal to the West and is the last village in the Sierra de Gata, lying right to its western flank and so neatly tucked under the meseta of Salamanca to the North that its inhabitants speak more like the folk in Castilla&Leon than Extremadurans (Extremeños, really), which they are. Here is a map to make it easier:
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An Olive Oil Museum, Honey and steep streets.
I visited the Olive Oil Museum several years ago and I learned a lot but have forgotten all of it now but it is well worth a visit. The purpose of my trip was to buy honey and pollen for which the Sierra is famous.
Unfortunately the house was empty but I tracked down the woman who sells the honey coming out of evening Mass and heading for the bar with her friends.
The honey lady in green chatting with the priest.
I caught up with her in the bar which is right at the top of the village. Since her house is at the bottom and the roads are very steep I agreed to return another day for the honey.
The Church of Our Lady of the Assumption.
C Church of Our Lady.
The Church had emptied and had been well locked up by the time I arrived. It was formerly a palace of the Monroy family and then passed on to some dukes from Benavente, up North in Castilla. They however, lost it in a dispute with the villagers and it was converted into the Church of today.
Today is the feat of St. George who is a big saint in Cataluña – and also celebrated in Salamanca. In Extremadura it is not a holiday but some other villages have processions.
April 23rd, feast of St. George.
It was appropriate, therefore, that hanging from a window was a boy named George.
The women who had just come out from the Church were congratulating him on his feast day but George was much more interested in discussing the Champions League semi final draw possiblilities. George is 18, according to the women and hangs out of a beautifully flowered balcony.
A meadow, a black dog and narrow streets.
The apple trees had already lost their blossom and this meadow was overgrown. By July it will be baked dry, although the village has a small river running through it and several fountains with good untreated water.
This little black dog was suitably inoffensive in this very peaceful town which has a good offering of well-restored traditional houses for visitors who come to enjoy the peace.
And finally,
Just as I am recovering from my worst cold for many years I thought I would take a photo of these two lovely children holding hands when one of them sneezed. Very politely she sneezed onto the pavement, evidence of the village’s aristocratic past.
