Distance: 30.6km (318.5km).
Altitude (start / end / highest): 860m / 874m / 950m.
Weather: Clear blue sky and scorching sun.
Today, I finally came to the meseta, the high plains of Spain. Or finally or finally, for many this is the part of the Camino they have dreaded. The walk across the meseta is characterized by the endless long, desolate and flat plains the Camino goes through, often dry and extremely hot. In the summer it is so hot hear that there are several pilgrims who prefer to skip the whole part and take a bus around instead. You are not officially finished with La Meseta until you get to Astorga in about 8 or 10 days. I had been looking forward to it.
Sunrise on the Camino after Burgos.
The change in the scenery came fast and clear, even though there has been dry and barren landscapes on the route before. The plains assumed an almost grey-white colour, which stood in stark contrast to the blue sky, I loved it. It was however not in that way in the beginning from Burgos, and the walk out of the city was of an altogether different character than the walk into it. I was early up and ate breakfast in a small café together with some other drowsy pilgrims; even so, I had woke up with almost everyone else in the albergue already gone. The cathedral towered gloomily over me in the morning hours.
Entering La Meseta, after leaving Rabe de la Calzadas.
The first part after Burgos carried few marks of what was to come, at times it was quite lush around me, but then the landscaped changed and it became drier. I had walked together with Jeff out of the city; and further behind me, I could see Torsten and Alessandra coming. After repeatingly stopping to take pictures, I did not see Jeff again. After Rabe de las Calzadas, the meseta starts for real, the small chapel of Ermita de Nuestra Senora de Monasterio could pose as the entrance gate. From here on the high plains are extending, from here to eternity.
Cuesta de Matamulos down towards Hornillos del Camino.
At Fuente de Praotorre, I had taken a break together with Torsten and Alessandra, but I was eager to keep on going and left the rest area before they did. Afterwards, it became even drier and drier; I was infatuated by the white colour of the rocks towards the blue background with the sacred stones of Pedras Sagrada around me. A moonscape.
Going through dusty Hornillos del Camino.
From Alto Meseta the gravel track is going down towards Hornillos del Camino as a clearly marked border , the descent is named Cuesta de Matamulos, the mule-killer slope. Behind, more of the dry desolate landscape was waiting. Walking through Hornillos felt kind of walking in a western town, only with different buildings, same but not the same. It is a dusty small village with an atmosphere, which I could enjoy spending the night in, but it was in the middle of the day and I wanted to go further.
A yellow arrow next to a door in Hornillos del Camino.
Further meant another ten kilometres more, with nothing between Hornillos and Hontanas other than something to rest the eyes on. The rusty signpost with Hornillos del Camino written on it outside the village is an apt symbol of the feeling of walking in a western-scenery, complete with bullet holes. A bird watched me from a wayside cross on the Camino.
Camino waymark in La Meseta between Hornillos del Camino and Hontanas.
Situated a little secluded outside the Camino, is the albergue at Arroyo San Bol, but it was closed. The albergue is shaded by trees on two sides and a pool is lying temptingly outside. Why I did not take off my shoes and cooled down my feet in the pool while I was there, is still a wonder of the world.
Bird on a cross watching me.
The long walk of today made me tired and before you begin the descent to Hontanas (the villages here are often situated down in small hollows to get as much shade as possible), I had to take a break. The break was long enough for yet another unwanted vampire to catch a free ride down to the village; I got help from Linda and Luciano from Canada to remove it late, when I later discovered the tick.
The tempting pool at Albergue San Bol.
Hontanas, not the first, but not the last of a series of small and dusty villages that I will pass through either. In this one however, I would spend the night. There are 70 people living here on a regular basis. The albergue was quickly filled up. I had grabbed a bottom bunk, but gave it away to another pilgrim who bought me a beer later as thanks (she did not need to).
Descending to Hontanas, as other villages this one is also lying tucked in down in a hollow to provide shade from the sun.
Most of the bars and albergues in the village is lying next to or opposite each other in the main street going through the place. The tables and seats in the street was as the albergue quickly filled up by the pilgrims, with the addition of their clothes hanging out to dry. Sitting amongst the pilgrims and talking about this or the coming day's walk, and other topics, is something of the most enjoyable you do after you have put the shoes on the shelf for the day.
In Hontanas, the pilgrims has gathered around the bars, restaurants and albergues in the village, together with their laundry.
Torsten, Alessandra, Martina and I ate dinner at one of the local restaurants, not that there were that many to choose from. Two weeks has now gone since St Jean Pied de Port and the Camino has become a part of my life now, it feels invigorating to walk with everything you own and need on your back, and that the meaning of everything is not so much more than to experience what you see and meet on the way to the next place. If La Meseta continues in the same way as today, then I cannot see what people are so negative about it for.
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