Pedro was here

Spain is bigger than you think it is. I was planning a little 2-3 day trip to get out of town and decided to visit a couple of places Charlie and Ann stayed on their way back home to Southern France. I pulled out our guide book and decided we’d spend a day in Segovia and then drive north to Zaragoza and then loop back around to Madrid. We had a nice time in Segovia, enjoyed a long visit at Alcázar, the local castle, and got in the car to zip off to our next destination, Zaragoza. That’s when I pulled the map out for the first time. I mean, that’s the first time that I pulled out the road map. In the guide book my plan looked good, but the reality of Spain is a lot like Nevada - a lot of wide open desert. There are no direct roads from Segovia to Zaragoza; you either have to essentially back track to Madrid then take the highway back north to Zaragoza, or take small windy roads. We did a quick survey and decided that we should see some of Spain that we hadn’t seen yet – and take the back roads. What I had thought was going to be an easy two hour drive was quickly becoming four or five hours in the car with two slightly cranky kids and poor Cynthia in the backseat with them.

Central Spain looks so much like Nevada that you could be forgiven for asking yourself why you chose the long route just to see landscape that looks just like home. So when Jack spotted a sign for a quick diversion, again the votes tallied in favor of a checking out Pedro’s hermitage. Why not? We were looking for something of interest.


We wound our way off mapped roads following signs to Pedro. Many giggles emanated from backseat where the Napoleon Dynamite fans were hoping to catch a glimpse of a more contemporary Pedro.

When we finally rolled into the little pueblo of Pedro, we found a dump on the way in and a little church with a swing set.


Our car attracted the attention of the locals who came out to see who was passing by, and we wondered if anyone else had ever followed those highway signs to Pedro’s place before. Cynthia and Anna gave the swings a try and just as we were getting back in the car, a man yelled at us and pointed down a dirt road. Our read, “Dudes, the hermitage is down this way.” So we had a lovely walk in the autumn air and eventually found the hermitage.


That’s it. The hermitage we drove half an hour out of our way to find.

No info about who Pedro was, why his little place is still there, or why there’s a sign on the highway miles away pointing pilgrims to the site. When I got home, I did my best to uncover Pedro’s secret on-line. Alas, his story remains a secret. And our pilgrimage to his humble shed a pleasant diversion from our road trip to Zaragoza. Next stop Zaragoza – Mary was there.