There are many sights to see on the road to Santiago, Spain, better known to pilgrims as St. James Way, or simply the Camino. Perhaps one of the most unusual I’ve experienced is Herreria de Compludo – the Forge of Compludo. Older than the pilgrimage itself, which became popular during the Middle Ages, the forge dates back to the seventh century.

Not only is Herreria de Compludo the oldest blacksmith shop in Spain, but it has been continuously running with a fire in the forge since then. It uses coal mined in the mountains to the north for fuel, and an ingenious system of waterpower to run everything else. It is a self-sustaining industrial marvel crafted before the dawn of the industrial age, back in the shadowy prehistory of an automation that was just a gleam in the first smithy’s eye. And it is the last vestige of a farming community nestled in a remote valley of Northwestern Castilla y Leon, Spain.

We hiked in on what was probably once a wagon road, a half-mile path winding in from the highway along a crystal mountain stream. The water swiftly descends into the valley while the path gently climbs the steep slope above it. The elevation can be misleading. As the path and stream separate a stone-lined causeway becomes visible between them, seemingly flowing up hill. The illusion ends as the path levels and it becomes evident that gravity channels the water into a small, natural-looking reservoir between the path and the stream below. Beneath the reservoir is the stone building that houses the forge. It is so shielded by the lush greenery of the forest that a casual hiker could pass it by. A small sign announces Herreria de Compludo.

We walked down a woods path to the clearing in front of the forge to meet the smithy, Manuel Sanchez. He, with his faithful German Shepard named Rex after the popular Spanish TV series of his youth, “Rex, un Policia Diferente”, that starred a German Sheperd police dog, broke the loneliness of this nearly abandoned setting. He is the fourth-generation smithy to operate this self-sustaining forge since his great-grandfather took it over in 1908. Manuel has traced the ownership back to the 1700s, but local histories place a forge at this site one thousand years earlier! With sections of the original stone building – probably the residence – collapsed, the moss and lichen covered forge looks its age. It is thanks to Manuel’s commitment and perseverance that people can still visit to see the ancient process of forging metal into plowshares and other tools.

Behind an outbuilding there was a pile of stones with a tree growing out of it that Manuel described as what was the shared oven for the once-thriving farm community. As a baker, after seeing how the forge worked, I wondered what marvelous system they used to have in place to heat the communal oven. But that is another story lost to the ages.

Behind us, the runoff from the reservoir spilled down next to a water wheel before being channeled back into the stream. Everything looked rundown and cobbed together, the last repairs done before even baling wire was invented. It was a doorway into antiquity.

That doorway opened to a dark cavernous space with the crashing sound of water surrounding a lighted hearth. We entered the cave-like structure, our eyes adjusting to the glowing coal fire. That, and what light entered through tiny windows made my eyes widen at the primitive surroundings. There was nothing simple about what I perceived. Genius was evident at every turn.

The stationary waterwheel was as much inside the shop as outside, visible in the dim light as connecting to a massive tree trunk that we learned was basically a huge hammer. Through an ingenious rigging a cable snaked up through the roof and connected to a spillway door. One need only pull the cable to open the spillway causing the water to turn the wheel. How much it was opened determined the speed of the waterwheel which, in turn, regulated the speed of the hammer. Because this was all made out of wood except for the hammer’s head, the connections would overheat relative to the speed of the work being done. To counter that, a wooden trough was placed to catch more of the water the faster the wheel turned, channeling it to cool the friction sites. It was brilliant, if ancient, engineering!

The sound of cascading water came from the rear of the forge as well. Behind the hearth there were carved stone steps up through a curved doorway into a well-like structure. Hidden beneath ferns and moss was the wooden system that replaced the conventional bellows. It is a Catalan horn, in which air is injected according to the Venturi principle. As water from the reservoir came down in and outside wooden tubes that narrowed in size as they descended, air was forced into the forge. That air was in turn regulated by a stopper that, when removed, allowed the air to flow into the room, but when in place it directed the flow right into the glowing coals of the forge. No bellows were needed! So much of the labor was automated that the smithy’s main task was to move the hot metal from the fire to the hammer to be shaped. It enabled the farming community built up around the forge to have all the repairs and tools they needed to survive.

Speaking of surviving, Manuel is part of a family tradition. I asked him about a fifth generation, a son to take over and he said “I have no son to succeed me. It would be impossible! Don’t get me wrong. I can have sons, but not one to continue this tradition. No one would want to.” And with that final statement, he picked up a hammer and shaped a metal spike for me, pounding it flat on four sides and curving the head. While it was still hot he hammer-stamped my name on the shaft, cooled the spike in water, and handed me a historic souvenir 1700 years in the making.

To visit Herreria de Compludo contact Castilla y Leon Tourism or see:

The Herreria de Compludo website.

There is a fee and specific times it is open. It is advised to make arrangements in advance. It is well worth the visit.

The post The Ancient Forge: Herreria de Compludo appeared first on Traveling Archive.

The day before we were scheduled to leave Spain was filled with hiking and biking and lots of great wine and food. I was ready for a light supper and early bedtime. My friends had other plans. After we got cleaned up they suggested we hit some of Valladolid’s tapas bars. Spain is famous for late dinners and lively nightlife, but a tapas crawl sounded like a good substitute for me.

Normally a tapas crawl is having one drink and tapas standing up at the bar before moving on to the next place. Sometimes each bar has a specialty it is known for, sometimes not. Tonight was a little odd in that the first bar we went to was known for its five specialty tapas, each a winner in tapas competitions in years past. We were assured that they were remarkable for their novelty, as well as taste and appearance. So we sat down and ordered them with drinks.

The most inventive tapas relied upon a chemical reaction to create a fragrant cloud that enveloped the tapas before we were supposed to eat it. Cautioned not to drink the billowing liquid, the flavor bomb was set off in the most imaginative display of the evening, and we popped the tapas into our mouths. After the surprise of the sweet aroma bursting forth, it really didn’t matter what the tapas tasted like, you just had to be in the moment to enjoy it. We were!

Another tapas had our table looking like we were smoking Cuban cigars. Spain outlawed smoking in restaurants some years ago, so ashtrays with lit cigars on the table were a big surprise. The prospect of eating the realistic looking and totally edible “cigars” out of those ashtrays was revolting at first, but as fatigue and free-flowing liquor combined, we got into it with gusto!

Next a cellophane wrapped sandwich looked disappointingly normal enough until our waitress told us to eat it without unwrapping it. As even the labels on our cigars were edible, so was the cellophane! This was turning into a very clever tapas bar!

Shortly after that we left.

But before I get to that, let me share with you that there was a food trend a decade ago that I didn’t particularly like. It was naming a dish some version of “White House” after Barack Obama won the US Presidential election. In the course of my travels I’ve had several desserts and tapas with such a name that consisted of a dark interior covered in white. I never found them funny. I only remember them for that racial connotation, not for their taste. That being said, when a tiny replica of the capital building in Washington DC appeared as our next tapas, I knew where we were headed. I lifted the dome to see a brown interior as the waitress said it was their “Obama in the White House” tapas. We left after that.

Our mood brightened at the next bar, or maybe it was the one after that. Frankly, I don’t remember. I’d been drinking all day, we all had. Between the hiking and biking had been extensive wine tastings, plus wine and digestifs with lunch. Still we kept at it until finally it was almost midnight and I was exhausted. “Just one more stop” my younger friends insisted. Leave it to them to keep me so distracted that I forgot the new day brought my birthday. And that is how I celebrated it with a roomful of friends and strangers as the bell tower’s clock pealed twelve. The whole bar sang along to their drunken rendition of Happy Birthday, complete with a candle!

Surprise! It was a new day in Castilla y Leon, Spain. And it was my birthday!

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First off, while all the big cities are an easy hour-plus drive from Madrid and the airport, the high speed trains are faster and much more relaxing. Imagine being seated at a table erasing the horrible taste of airplane food by eating the Spanish equivalent of a ham hero – a bocadillo on a barra de pan – using the finest jamón prepared fresh for your journey, while watching the fertile landscape zip by. It took a little planning to arrange that picnic, mostly picking up the sandwiches and managing not to eat them until boarding the train, but it was worth it as the perfect introduction to Castilla y Léon.

My companions and I arrived refreshed in Segovia, one of the few cities in the region I hadn’t visited. What a beautiful city it is! Especially the old quarter, the fortress, cathedral, and the most magnificent 2000+ yr old Roman aqueduct, which is the best-conserved Roman aqueduct in the world. At more than nine miles long and just under 100 ft high in the tallest place (Azoguejo square) the triple arches of the aqueduct survived the centuries in a simple stone-on-stone build with no mortar to hold them together.

Our guide, whom we engaged at the Information Center in Plaza del Azoguejo square, saw us straining our necks looking straight up at the beautiful structure and suggested the best viewing place would be from the top of the Postigo steps beside it. While we later found a better vantage, she was right in saying that it was easier to appreciate the massive scale of the aqueduct spanning the square from those steps.

Once back down in the square, we walked up Calle Real, through the Jewish Quarter, and after visiting the sights I mentioned earlier, (a cathedral is a cathedral is a – very lovely – cathedral) we entered the Plaza Mayor. Every Spanish city has one, a place where city life congregates, and Segovia’s was no exception.

Here is an unusual fact about the medieval quarter of Segovia. St Michael’s church is where Isabella, the Catholic, was crowned Queen of Castile. When the square was expanded, Isabella paid to have the church moved to the edge of the new square to preserve her coronation site.

After some people-watching over a refreshing café double and the ever-present plate of jamon, we improved our appetite on the walk back to Azoguejo square to the most famous restaurant in Segovia – Mesón de Cándido.

You realize that Mesón de Cándido is a big deal restaurant when you see a huge statue of Chef Cándido as you enter the city. He’s the one who put his families’ humble inn on the map in the early 1900s. We navigated through the outdoor seating (in the shade of the aqueduct – what a view!) to climb a staircase to the second floor dining room. From its beginnings in 1884, Cándido’s has grown into a large restaurant that looks like a history museum, with every available space sporting a photograph of famous people, dignitaries, and even the king, all surrounded by old serving utensils presumably gathered during the 100 years the restaurant has been internationally known. The many small tables were packed with tourists and couples, or pushed together for local families on a celebration, and us, with a tantalizing aroma of good food mixing with the multi-lingual conversations. Our expectations were heightened; it turns out for good reason. Mesón de Cándido is not just the place to be seen; it is the place to eat!

A video of Segovia includes the aqueduct and dining at Mesón de Candido. VIDEO BY RICHARD FRISBIE.

Mesón de Cándido is famous for its cochinillo asado (roast suckling pig). Order it for the sheer spectacle of it, and eat it for the joy of fine dining and delicious food. The founder’s grandson is the Candido immortalized by a statue in the roundabout. He received numerous gold medals for his contributions to tourism and cuisine, and held the title: “The Greatest Innkeeper of Castile”.  He was the abuelo (grandfather) of the current chef, the fifth generation Candido, whose father continues the show his father started of carving the roasted pigs with a plate and then breaking the plate on the floor. Mesón de Cándido is very much a family affair and pure theater – it is a sight to behold!

I’ve had suckling pig before, but this one was remarkable, due – in part – to the brining and then basting with lard in a hot oven to deliver a moist flesh with a crisp skin, but it was elevated by the setting and the ceremony of carving, certainly. Mesón de Cándido is a must visit when you are in Segovia.

A video of the five different hotels we stayed at in Castilla y Leon (including a castle!). VIDEO BY RICHARD FRISBIE.

Remember that I mentioned we found a better place to view the aqueduct? Well, after a much-deserved night’s sleep at Hotel Exe Casa De Los Linajes, we got up early to an overcast sky, and drove out of the city to the surrounding plains where balloons were being readied for a morning flight. We slowly lifted off and floated over a hill disturbing dozens of rabbits who scurried to the safety of their warrens. Then, equally animated, but running towards us instead of away, was a grade school recess of about a 100 kids waving and yelling until I was sorry not to have brought candy to drop to them.

The rain stayed distant and the breeze strengthened to carry us higher over the city for the best views of the aqueduct ever! Yes it is impressive standing under it looking up, but to be able to see all 9 miles of it bisecting the city to the distant hills was an amazing sight I’ll never forget. Nearly as good was our safe landing in a cow pasture on the other side of the city, celebrated with a toast of champagne. This being Spain, I asked: “Why not cava?”

The answer was a charming story of the first hot air balloon ride ever. It was in France. The King gave a bottle of his finest champagne to the brave first team to ever attempt such a feat. When they landed, miles away in a farmer’s field, they were set upon and almost killed by the farmer because he thought they were aliens, or the devil, never having seen a hot air balloon before. It was the King’s bottle of champagne that convinced the farmer that they were fellow humans, subjects of the King, and they were spared. And that’s why there is always a champagne toast after every flight.

Afterward we packed up our things and moved on to another great city, Salamanca, just so I could see again the giant redwood trees (Sequoia) grown from seeds Christopher Columbus was rumored to have brought back from the new world. That myth was shattered for me when our guide said that historians had determined the trees were the gift of an arborist whose son attended the 800+ year old Salamanca University, and that he got them from a Russian arboretum . . . blah, blah, blah. I stopped listening to the dry academic account because too many people during previous visits told the more romantic, apocryphal tale, and I didn’t want to spoil the memory. So – believe what you will, but be sure to admire the oldest redwoods in Europe – they’re magnificent! So is Salamanca.

I’ve written elsewhere about Salamanca (the “Golden City” with two cathedrals joined together) and other cities and farms in Castilla y Leon. You can follow these links below to read more about them:

A Culinary & Cultural Tour

The Tuscany of Spain

Two Spanish Farms Visited

The Spanish Farms video

HOTEL & TOURS:

Hotel Exe Casa De Los Linajes  is a very comfortable 3 star hotel that from the outside is medieval in style, but inside you’ll find vintage design with all the modern amenities you’ll need for a refreshing stay. It is just five minutes away from the Plaza Mayor and the Cathedral, in the center of Segovia.

Segovia Balloon Rides 160 Euros / pp

Mesón de Cándido

TOURISM:

Spain info

Turismo Castilla y Leon

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