Monday, 8 June - Talavera

Talavera Monument The Battlefield from French viewpoint Arzobispo Bridge

Having filed our complaint about the site with the management on leaving, we moved into Talavera about which we had big expectations. Paget’s excellent book close to hand, we took a little time to work out the lie of the land because of the new road constructions and the flooded Portina Brook which confused a bit. Having found the impressive but badly kept monument to the battle just off the motorway, we then successfully found a difficult unmade road from Segurilla to the north which opened up the vista of the whole battlefield – the dominant Cerro de Medellin, the farm at Pajar and the surrounding terrain which gave us a distinct feel for the terrain of the battle, the French lines, the British dispositions and the field of battle itself. We could almost hear the jangle of troop movements, shouted commands, bugles, tramping feet and eventually the noise of battle. Quite an emotional experience with wonderment that Wellington was able to oversee the battle, take advantage of French weaknesses and minimise his own. All this without communications as we know it. After a couple of hours or so including walking the ground of the French advance on Ruffin’s line, we left the scene satisfied that we had paid tribute to those who fought there. Sadly, Talavera itself is inconsequential and pays scant recognition to this major battle. Much of the battlefield is now a scruffy industrial estate and the Portina Brook has been flooded to confuse the interested observer. As elsewhere in Spain, Talavera is not immune to the endemic Spanish need to paint meaningless graffiti on any wall (including the monument to the battle). Where no graffiti exists, then national companies paint the walls with their logos and products. When these are full, then huge hoardings are erected to advertise even more. Coupled with the apparent fact that Spain seems full of old buildings which are in disrepair, new buildings and complexes which are incomplete, one cannot help but conclude that the country has tried to expand far too fast. This, coupled with the national acceptance of litter, noise and unfinished products sends out a confusing message to such as we.

Talavera accomplished, we moved 35km westwards to Oropesa, a strikingly attractive town to which Wellington had withdrawn after Talavera so as not to get drawn into another battle too soon against Soult coming south from Salamanca. His army withdrew further to get south of the River Tagus by crossing it at La Puente de Arzopispo. This turned out to be a very fine, intact bridge made of honeyed stone in the 14^th century. Again, we could imagine the tread of the British boots across this narrow bridge as we took our sandwich lunch!

To avoid retracing our steps, we continued south and south west through Estrella, Puenta de San Vicente and Guadaloupe on the Ex 102, a splendidly smooth road through amazing countryside. Stopping off to watch soaring vultures in search of (dead) prey, we travelled through a very unseasonable cold and wet frontal rain belt before arriving at our destination of Merida, 65km east of Badajoz, our next important battle site.

Having befriended a very amenable Portugese couple (Antonia and Pedro) who had seemed to make erecting their adjacent tent extremely difficult, we dined well on mackerel fillets in mustard sauce followed by curried duck gisiers and savoury rice – probably the only people in the world to do so - on 8 June anyway!