Carrión de los Condes

The first thing that strikes you is the height. At 830 metres above sea level, Carrion de los Condes sits higher than most British peaks, yet the land around it stretches pancake-flat to every horizon. This is Tierra de Campos – the breadbasket of Castilla y León – where wheat fields roll like oceans and the sky feels three times its normal size. The village appears almost suddenly after miles of empty road, its stone towers rising from the plain like medieval exclamation marks.

Stone stories along the Camino

Every building here seems to have something to say, and none more so than the Iglesia de Santiago. Its western facade reads like a 12th-century comic strip: Christ in Majesty surrounded by the four evangelists, medieval craftsmen at work, even the zodiac wheel carved in stone. British walkers often confess they've been photographing doors for weeks on the Camino, but this one stops them cold. The detail is extraordinary – you'll need ten minutes just to take it all in.

Round the corner in Plaza Santa María, the smaller Iglesia de Santa María del Camino tells a darker tale. The Friso de las Naciones depicts the legend of 100 maidens sacrificed to save the town from Moorish invasion. Whether you believe the legend or not, the carving is remarkable – and remarkably accessible. Unlike major cathedrals where art sits ten metres above your head, here you can examine the stonework at eye level.

The Monasterio de San Zoilo presents a different chapter entirely. This former Benedictine monastery, now converted into a rather smart hotel, contains one of Spain's finest Renaissance cloisters. Even if you're not staying the night (rooms start around €80, cheaper than most UK chain hotels), the cloister is worth the €3 entry fee. The carved medallions and grotesque figures show Renaissance craftsmen at their most playful – look out for the chap pulling faces behind what appears to be botanical decoration.

Between two waters

The River Carrion meanders past the village edge, creating a narrow green corridor through the agricultural desert. The medieval bridge, rebuilt but faithful to the original design, offers the best viewpoint in town. Stand here at sunset and you'll understand why this crossing mattered – pilgrims, merchants, and presumably the eponymous counts all passed this way. The river's slow, brown waters seem barely worth the name today, but historically this was a vital water source in a landscape where every drop counted.

British walkers fresh from the 17-kilometre slog across open country from Frómista often collapse gratefully on the riverbank. The contrast is immediate – shade, water, and the first real sense of arriving somewhere rather than just passing through. Local teenagers use the river path for evening promenades, creating a gentle social hub that feels centuries old.

Practical matters for practical travellers

Carrion works brilliantly as a stopover, whether you're walking the Camino or touring by car. The municipal albergue charges €10 for a bunk, including access to a kitchen where pasta parties spring up nightly. Private albergues offer more comfort for €15-20, while the converted monastery provides boutique luxury at prices that would make a Cotswold hotelier weep.

Food follows the honest Castilian template – roasted lamb, hearty stews, and the local morcilla (blood sausage) that divides opinion at every dinner table. The €12 menú del día appears everywhere: garlic soup, pork loin with chips, and a yoghurt for dessert. It's not haute cuisine, but after a day's walking it tastes like manna. Vegetarians struggle – even the vegetable stew usually contains bits of ham. The bakery on Calle Mayor does a roaring trade in 'pan del peregrino', a dense loaf that survives bouncing around in rucksacks for days.

Stock up here if you're continuing west. The next stage to Ledigos crosses 17 kilometres of wheat fields with zero services. No bars, no fountains, no shade. British pilgrims have nicknamed it 'the Meseta motorway' – straight as a die and twice as boring. Many cave and take a taxi (€25-30) particularly in summer when temperatures hit 35°C and the tarmac shimmers.

Wind, wheat and winter

The altitude makes a difference. Even in May, morning temperatures can dip to 5°C while afternoons soar to 25°C. Pack layers, particularly if you're cycling – the wind across these plains has nothing to stop it all the way from the Bay of Biscay. Winter visitors find a different village entirely: empty streets, closed bars, and an austere beauty that matches the stone. Snow isn't uncommon, and when it comes the Camino becomes a proper expedition.

Summer brings the opposite problem – relentless sun and precious little shade. The wheat harvest in July turns the landscape golden, creating those textbook Spanish vistas of ochre fields against cobalt skies. But walking becomes a dawn-only activity; sensible pilgrims hit the road by 6 am and collapse by lunchtime.

Beyond the village

Carrion makes an excellent base for exploring Tierra de Campos. Four kilometres east, Villalcázar de Sirga boasts another extraordinary Templar church – worth the detour if you're car-based. Frómista, with its perfectly preserved Romanesque San Martín, lies just 19 km away. The agricultural museum in nearby Boadilla gives context to the landscape you've been trudging through, explaining how these apparently empty fields fed half of Spain for centuries.

Birdwatchers should bring binoculars. The plains support a healthy population of great bustards – chunky birds that look like small ostriches and take off with all the grace of a fully-laden Hercules. Dawn and dusk offer the best sightings, particularly around the few remaining traditional dovecotes that dot the countryside.

The honest truth

Carrion de los Condes won't change your life. It's a working village of 2,000 souls that happens to possess some exceptional medieval stonework and sits on a famous walking route. The main street can feel deserted during siesta, the supermarket shuts for three hours every afternoon, and if you're expecting tapas bars on every corner you'll be disappointed.

Yet that's precisely its charm. This is Spain before the tour buses arrive, where the barman remembers how you take your coffee and the church doors open at the same time they've opened for 800 years. Come for the Romanesque sculpture, stay for the rhythm of village life that continues regardless of whether visitors appear. Just remember to carry water for that endless plain ahead – and maybe download a Spanish dictionary while you're at it.