San Pedro De La Nave Almendra

The key hangs behind the bar of El Campillo. Ask politely, finish your coffee, and the owner will telephone the custodian who cycles over from Almendra with a ring of iron keys that look older than the church itself. Five minutes later you are alone inside Spain’s best-preserved Visigothic basilica, 1,300 years of stone scent and morning light for the price of two euros dropped into an honesty box.

San Pedro de la Nave-Almendra sits 650 m above sea level on the high, windy tableland south-west of Zamora. The surrounding meseta is dead-flat cereal country, but the village suddenly drops 80 m to the Río Esla, creating a micro-climate that is two degrees cooler in summer and noticeably more humid. Frost can linger until April; July and August hit 35 °C by midday with almost no shade. Winter is sharp—night temperatures fall below –5 °C—and the minor road from the A-52 can ice over, so check the forecast if you are travelling between December and February.

A church that moved house

The basilica was never meant to be here. In the 1930s the whole building—column by numbered column—was shifted uphill to escape the floodwaters of the Ricobayo reservoir. Engineers dismantled the stone, rebuilt it on higher ground, and somehow the seventh-century mortar still smells damp when the heavy doors close behind you. Horseshoe arches, stylised lilies and a New-Testament frieze of Daniel among the lions run round the nave at eye level; you can stand close enough to see chisel marks without a rope or perspex screen in the way. Morning light from the south door picks out the carving detail; by 11 a.m. it is gone, so arrive early.

There is no permanent ticket office and the timetable is politely Spanish: Monday-Friday 09:15-14:00 & 17:00-19:30, Saturday 09:30-14:00, Sunday closed. School parties from Zamora sometimes fill the single nave at 10:30; otherwise you may have the echo to yourself. Phone the custodian the evening before (numbers are posted on the door) or simply ask in El Campillo—someone will know whether Manuel is cycling over after feeding his hens.

Flat walks and reservoir reflections

Once you have handed the key back, there is still half a day left. A signed footpath leaves the churchyard, crosses the ZA-102, and follows farm tracks for 6 km to the dam wall at Ricobayo. The route is level, stony but not technical, and gives uninterrupted views across the water to the granite ridge beyond. Greylag geese and cormorants use the reservoir as a migration rest stop; spring and autumn are best for bird watching, though you will need binoculars—there are no hides. Take water: the path runs through wheat fields and dehesa pasture with no café until you loop back to the village.

If six kilometres sounds too generous, walk the 1.5 km lane down to the river boat launch. Fish jump, the current is slow and you can paddle in May before the heat becomes spiteful. Summer afternoons generate a thermic wind that whips dust across the road; most sensible people retreat indoors after 15:00 and re-emerge at 18:00 when the sun drops behind the pines on the opposite bank.

Two hamlets, one bakery

San Pedro and Almendra were separate parishes until the 1950s; they still feel like rival twins. San Pedro has the church, a children’s playground and the bar-key-repository. Almendra, 1 km east along the main street, keeps the bakery, the agricultural co-op and the weekly delivery van on Thursday mornings. Between them the population hovers around 140; the average age is closer to sixty than forty. You will be noticed, but not fussed over—nodding "buenos días" is appreciated and usually returned.

There is no hotel. The nearest rooms are in Muelas del Pan (18 km) or Zamora (35 km), so most visitors fold the village into a circular day trip from Toro or Salamanca. Petrol stations are equally sparse: fill up before leaving the A-52 or you will be hunting for a pump in somebody’s garden.

What to eat and what to avoid

Village bars keep Spanish hours: coffee and tostada until 11:00, lunch 13:30-15:30, supper after 20:30. The set menu at El Campillo runs to €12 and includes a decent arroz con leche scented with cinnamon. Lechazo (roast suckling lamb) appears at weekends; portions are designed for two, so order a medias ración unless you are ravenous. The local almond tart is sweet, brittle and travels well—worth buying a slice for the car. Avoid the rock-hard Zamorano cheese unless you enjoy salt levels that make Cheddar taste bland; ask for queso semicurado instead, which has flavour without the lip-numbing finish. House reds from the Tierra del Vino de Zamora are fruit-forward, rarely exported, and cost €2.50 a glass—cheaper than bottled water in London.

When to cut your losses

Come in late April or early October for mild air and golden wheat stubble. May brings aggressive pollen; hay-fever sufferers should pack antihistamines. August is scorching and the reservoir beach is pebbly—fine for a paddle, hopeless for sandcastles. In November the mist never quite lifts and the stone floor inside the church feels perishing. Public holidays see coach tours from Valladolid; if the car park holds more than three vehicles, wait half an hour and the group will be gone.

Phone reception is patchy; download offline maps before you leave Zamora. The church is not wheelchair-friendly—three granite steps and a narrow door—but the reservoir path is hard-packed enough for sturdy pushchairs. Finally, remember that the custodian has hens to feed: if you promise to return the key at 13:30, be prompt. Miss the deadline and you will be explaining yourself to a village council that has heard every excuse, in several languages, before.