Tordehumos

The church tower appears first, a brick finger pointing skywards from a low ridge that barely breaks the pancake-flat horizon of Tierra de Campos. From the A-6 motorway it looks like a mirage: medieval masonry rising 35 metres above wheat fields that stretch eastwards towards Valladolid and west to Zamora. This is Tordehumos, population 375, sitting at 739 metres – high enough that winter frosts can linger until April, yet low enough that summer thermometers still nudge 38°C.

Most visitors hurtle past the turn-off at kilometre 231, bound for bigger names on the Castilian plateau. Those who divert find a village that functions more as a working grain hub than a curated heritage site. The main street, Calle Real, is wide enough for tractors to perform three-point turns; combine harvesters park outside the single bank cashpoint; and the evening paseo involves more dogs than tourists. Adobe walls the colour of dry biscuits absorb the afternoon heat, while storks clatter overhead, ferrying twigs to nests balanced on every available rooftop.

Mudéjar Brick and Adobe Time

The Iglesia de Santa María del Castillo rewards anyone who climbs the five-minute slope from the bakery. Built in the thirteenth century with a lift from later centuries, the church mixes reddish brickwork in the Mudéjar style with chunks of local limestone. The tower served as a lookout over the old silver route from Seville to the Bay of Biscay; step inside during opening hours (typically 10–12, but a knock on the sacristan's door at Number 17 often produces a key) and you’ll find a gilded baroque altarpiece paid for by Mexican silver in the 1730s. Admission is free; the custodian may ask for a euro towards light bulbs.

Below the nave, a few courses of stonework are all that survive of the castle that gave the village its name – supposedly a corruption of turris domini, the lord’s tower. The view eastwards explains why anyone bothered: a 360-degree sweep of cereal ocean, broken only by the next villages – Villafáfila at 18 km, Castromonte at 12 km – each marked by its own church tower. Bring binoculars in winter; the plains fill with flooding that attracts flocks of migrating cranes.

Back in the lanes, the housing stock tells a quieter story. Modest homes built from adobe blocks sit next to 1970s brick boxes with satellite dishes. Some façades are eroding, revealing straw chaff in the earthen bricks; others have been smartly replastered in pastel tones approved by the regional heritage office. The effect is neither chocolate-box nor ruin-porn – just a place negotiating how to live in old skins while the rural economy shrinks.

Walking Lines That Never Bend

Tordehumos makes a handy base for flat-country hiking, though the word “hiking” feels grandiose when the altitude gain over 10 km rarely exceeds 30 metres. A web of farm tracks radiates towards neighbouring villages, way-marked with green-and-white slashes by the provincial government. One straightforward circuit heads south to Villárdiga (4.2 km) and returns via the disused railway line; another strikes north-east to the lagoon complex of Villafáfila, where you can add another 8 km to watch greater bustards performing their odd, neck-inflating courtship. Stout shoes suffice; paths are hard-packed clay that turns gluey after rain, and there is zero shade – carry more water than you think necessary, especially in May when the grain is waist-high and the thermometer already past 25°C.

Cyclists appreciate the same grid of quiet tracks. Mountain bikes are overkill; a gravel or touring bike with 35 mm tyres is perfect. The local council has installed a free repair stand beside the playground, complete with pump and hex keys – a reminder that 200 inhabitants still commute to Valladolid by train from the station 12 km away.

Roast Lamb and Monday Closures

Food follows the agricultural calendar. Cordero lechal – milk-fed lamb roasted in a wood-fired clay oven – appears on weekends at Bar-Restaurante El Parador on Plaza de España. Expect to pay €18–20 for a quarter-lamb portion, enough for two modest British appetites. Mid-week menus are humbler: sopa de ajo (garlic soup with paprika and a poached egg) followed by judiones (giant butter beans stewed with morcilla). The house wine comes from Valdepeñas, 200 km south, and costs €2 a glass; mineral water is more expensive, so join the locals and ask for a jarra of chilled tap water – perfectly safe.

Provisions are trickier. The mini-market shuts for siesta (2–5 pm) and all day Monday. If you arrive late, the bakery opposite the church sells amarguillos – almond meringue biscuits that travel well – and will make sandwiches to order if you ask before noon. Vegetarians should stock up in Valladolid; choice here is limited to tortilla, cheese and the occasional empanada of spinach and pine nuts.

Starlight and Storks

Nightfall brings the village’s cheapest spectacle. Street-lighting is deliberately dim to protect migrating birds, so the Milky Way unfurls overhead with embarrassing clarity. Walk five minutes along the Camino de Sancti-Spíritus and the horizon drops to black; satellites scoot across the sky, and on moonless nights you can read a map by starlight. August sees the Perseid meteor shower – local farmers set out deck chairs beside the wheat stubble and open bottles of verdejo at 2 am.

Back in the centre, August also hosts the fiestas patronales in honour of the Virgen del Castillo. The population quadruples as extended families return; brass bands play until 3 am, and roast suckling pigs spin on spits in the square. Accommodation fills fast – book months ahead, or come the previous weekend when rehearsals give you 80 percent of the atmosphere with 20 percent of the crowd.

Getting Here, Sleeping, Leaving

There is no railway station in Tordehumos. The closest is at Villanubla, 28 km north-west, served by regional trains from Valladolid (35 min, €4.50). Car hire is available at the station; without wheels you are dependent on the once-daily bus that leaves Valladolid at 2 pm and returns at 7 am next day – workable for a quiet overnight, useless for a day trip. Drivers should leave the A-6 at junction 229, follow the N-525 for 6 km, then turn south on the CL-615; the approach road is single-track for the final kilometre, so reverse into lay-bys when grain lorries appear.

Rooms are limited. Casa Rural La Torre has three doubles built into the old priest’s house (€65 B&B, closed January). A smarter option is Posada del Castillo in neighbouring Villafáfila, 15 minutes away, with stork-view rooftop and own restaurant (€90 half-board). Campers can pitch at the municipal area by the sports ground – free, with cold showers and a friendly caretaker who appreciates a six-pack of Estrella Galicia.

Leave time for one last climb to the church terrace before departure. The plains shimmer, harvesters crawl like orange beetles, and the tower clock strikes the hour with a mechanism older than the Bank of England. Nothing dramatic happens – which, after the sensory overload of Segovia or Salamanca, is precisely Tordehumos’s appeal. Bring patience, SPF 30, and a taste for roast lamb; the village will supply the rest.