Day 39: The Beautiful Meseta

September 19: Rain never materialized overnight—nothing more than a few drops, at least. Strictly speaking, setting up my tarp wasn’t necessary, but it did give me a peace of mind that I wouldn’t have had without it.

 

Without anyone to hike with, I listened to my iPod for most of the day. While twirling around my trekking pole at one point, I accidently whacked myself pretty hard in the nose with it. I looked around to see if anyone saw that, but nobody did, but my nose hurt a bit for the rest of the day and I tried to be more careful about not whacking myself in the nose in the future. It would be kind of embarrassing if I had to get off the trail because I broke my own nose with my own trekking pole! =)

 

I arrived in the long, long town of Castrojeriz, but I didn’t stop to rest there. I pushed on out of town where the trail climbed a steep but exhilarating hill that I absolutely loved. I loved the strong wind through my hair, I loved the wide-open views and Walking on Sunshine became my Song of the Day. “And this is the ‘ugly’ part of the trail!” I would say to other pilgrims along the route, absolutely thrilled with the scenery. They all seemed to be in agreement that the section between Burgos and Leon—so far, at least—was absolutely wonderful. “Those folks who skipped on ahead to Leon are missing out!”

 

In Itero de la Vega, I caught up with Hilary and Brent again. I’d have liked to keep hiking with them out of town, but I still hadn’t found a good place to resupply my food since leaving Burgos and it was getting dangerously low. This town had a grocery store that I intended to hit before I left, even if it meant I had to wait for a couple of hours for the store to open. I hoped I wouldn’t have to wait for the store to open, but I would if I had to. I really needed more food in my pack if I wanted to camp overnight again, and I definitely intended to camp overnight again.

 

Fortunately, the store was open. They call themselves a “supermarket,” but there was absolutely nothing “super” about this “market.” I’ve seen 7-11s with a better food selection! But I made do with the food they had available—beggars can’t be choosers and all that—then hit the trail out of Itero hoping to catch up with Hilary and Brent quickly. Which I did. =)

The landscape, for the most part, was completely and totally flat as far as the eye could see. Almost! Far to the north, I could see a distinct haze of rugged mountains, and I smiled knowing that the Atlantic Ocean was probably just on the other side of those mountains. Another Camino path followed along the north coast of Spain, and there were probably other Camino hikers over on the other side of those mountains. I could also see a smaller, less-rugged-looking mountain range to the south. And our path followed this flat area between the two ranges. The Meseta—what a beautiful place!

 

I wound up hanging out in Boadilla del Camino for much of the later afternoon killing time before looking for a place to camp. Hilary and Brent bought sandwiches, but I decided to wait until later in the afternoon and get one for dinner given the poor food supplies I had left in my pack. When I did finally get up to order a sandwich a couple of hours later, I was told that they weren’t serving sandwiches anymore. ARGH!!!! “But I KNOW you have sandwiches! My friends ordered sandwiches from you!”

 

So I continued further into town where I knew there was a restaurant with an alburgue—I’d just get dinner there instead. Except when I walked into the alburgue, it was crowded with several dozen pilgrims lounging around. I felt positively claustrophobic in there and immediately decided I wanted no part of it. I turned around and left without dinner.

 

I did still have food in my pack, but it was getting pretty thin on food that I actually wanted to eat. But it would have to do….

 

The wind, like yesterday, was still mighty strong all day long and into the later afternoon, so when it came time to set up a campsite, I had to look for a place that was protected from the wind. The trail followed along the top of a berm that held in water from a canal, and I finally decided that the best place to camp was at the bottom of the berm, on the side opposite the canal. Some wind still got down to me, but the berm blocked the worst of it. The worst part of the location, though, was that I was in complete view of the hikers passing by in the morning. I liked my campsites to have a little privacy, but I knew there would be absolutely none of that come morning.

 

The busting streets of Hontanus.

 

I was a little disappointed that this fountain
didn’t seem to work. =(

 

Beautiful! And this was considered the ‘ugly’ part of the trail? Ha!

 

Arco de San Anton—the coolest ruins along the trail. No, wait—correction—
the coolest ruins ON the trail! The trail goes right through the
arch on the right. =)

 

I stopped at these ruins for a quick sightseeing tour. =)

 

Castrojeriz is a very long town that wraps around this
hill like a boa constrictor.

 

The ridge ahead is the first non-flat section I’d seen in days.
The trail goes up the dirt road you see in the middle of the ridge.

 

Yep, it’s gonna be steep! And I was looking forward to it! =)

 

Looking back towards Castrojeriz. (The town is by the hill on the right
side of the photo.)

 

And back down the other side of the ridge back to the flat ground.

 

I saw a lot of this particular view. At least when I wasn’t
busy whacking myself in the nose with the trekking pole. =)

 

A pilgrim rest area. I think the building here used to be an old
hospital for pilgrims back in the day.

 

A beautiful bridge across the River Pisuerga.

 

The view from the top of the bridge.

 

There was nothing ‘super’ about this supermercado….

 

I have absolutely no idea what this mural is supposed to represent….

 

And back to the Meseta again….

 

 

Art on the trail outside of Itero de la Vega. The wheel in the background
can be turned to get water.

 

In Itero de la Vega.

 

A tree-lined path out of Itero de la Vega.

 

Then the trail followed by the Castilla Canal for several kilometers.

Day 38: The Day I left Burgos

September 18: On my way out of Burgos, I walked passed the large cathedral near the center of town. I never went inside, but the exterior was more than impressive. So large, such intricate detail—it was a magnificent piece of work. Absolutely magnificent! I just took a few pictures and pushed on out of town, though.

The walk out of town was nothing short of terrible. Lots of traffic along busy roads. Going out of town didn’t have alternative paths to avoid all the ugly parts of city walks like the walk into town had, so I just pushed through as quickly as possible, taking photos of any interesting statues and art along the way.

I passed one supermarket along the way, but it hadn’t opened yet. My food supplies were running low, and I hadn’t found any supermarkets in the core of Burgos the day before. I still had some food, but it was running low and I had hoped to resupply on the walk out of town, so it was a little disappointing to have found a supermarket but then to learn it wasn’t open yet. I could have waited for it to open, and I would have waited had actually been completely out of food, but things weren’t quite so critical so I pushed passed without resupplying my food.

Which is why, when I finally got out of Burgos and into the small town of Tarjados, I stopped at a small store and bought a bacon and cheese sandwich—to help preserve what food I did still have in my pack for later in the day. The sandwich didn’t look like much, but it turned out to be quite good and very filling. As I looked around me, though, I realized that I didn’t recognize a single other hiker. It’s not unusual that I didn’t know any other hikers around me, but I usually at least recognized a few faces. Since I left Burgos, though, I hadn’t even recognized anyone! Where did all these hikers come from?

Two of them I eavesdropped on had been discussing their zero day in Burgos. They didn’t call it a “zero day”—the hikers out here haven’t had the corrupting influence of the Appalachian Trail or Pacific Crest Trail like I’ve had—but that’s what they were. A lot of people I did know had also been talking about taking a day off in Burgos. It seemed that all of these people I didn’t recognize had probably been a day ahead of me on the trail since Saint Jean and I caught up with them because I had not chosen to take a day off in Burgos.

After leaving Tarjados, the trail improved dramatically from the miserable road walk out of Burgos. It was an eventful walk on to Hornillos del Camino where I took another break and caught up with Vivian again—the first person I recognized all day! My guidebook breaks down the hike from Saint Jean to Santiago into “stages,” and Hornillos marks the end of the stage out of Burgos and where most people who left Burgos would likely quit for the day, but for the first time, lodging was severely limited and a large number of pilgrims decided to push on towards Hontanas another 11 kilometers or so further up the trail putting in a fairly long 30+ kilometer day. For those pilgrims, it was their longest day ever. For those wanting to avoid their longest day of hiking ever, many of them took rides into nearby towns with additional lodging and would get a ride back here in the morning. How inconvenient! And for me, completely out of the question since I was determined to avoid using modern transportation until my hike was done. Anyhow, walking a little over 30 kilometers wasn’t different for me, and I had every intention of camping out anyhow.


Out of town, the trail climbed up and entered the area known as the Meseta—a high plateau that other pilgrims had been bad-mouthing since Saint Jean. The section between Burgos and Leon was described variously as boring, ugly and miserable depending on who you asked. Several hikers I know intended to skip that section completely and ride a bus to Leon to pick up the rest of their hike. Those who didn’t have enough time off of work to hike the entire route would invariably choose to skip the Meseta section—the most boring, ugly section of the trail. If rumors are to be believed.

I positively LOVED it, though! The treeless plain seemed to stretch to eternity—so open, so grand, so remote. Without any obstacles to dull it, the wind blew across the land with the fury of a storm—but there was no storm. “If this is boring and ugly,” I thought, “I can’t wait to see what the rest of the trail has to offer!” Leaving town, alone, I turned on my iPod again and practically skipped my way up the trail, slashing the air with my trekking pole in sync with the music on my iPod.

At least until I caught up with Hilary and Brent. Hilary I hadn’t seen or heard of since I met per in Pamplona trying to bribe other pilgrims to talk with her by offering up a six-pack of beer, so it was fun to catch up and swap our trail stories. Brent I had seen several times along the route, but never for more than a few minutes at a time and I didn’t really know him as well despite having seen him more often. He was more one of those faces I recognized than someone I really knew.

I fell into walking with them and quickly discovered that, combined, they were two the funniest freakin’ people alive. They had me laughing for miles! You’d think they had to have rehearsed their little Abbot and Costello routine, but I’m pretty sure they didn’t. They were just darned funny, slinging jokes off each other, and I really enjoyed the hour or so I walked with them.

As we got closer to Hontanus, though, I veered off to set up camp. The severely strong winds I knew would be problematic, so at first I tried to set up camp behind some large piles of rocks. I nixed that idea when I saw all the toilet paper behind it, though. On these very exposed plains, it was obvious that the few places with rocks piled high were being used as toilets. I’d rather camp directly in the wind.

Then I tried setting up off the side of the trail, using the small berm on the edge of the road as protection from the wind. Maybe if I laid down, the wind would pass overhead. I tried it, and the berm did seem to dull the wind, but it was still there. And if I sat up, the berm did nothing at all so slow the wind down.

So I studied the horizon and saw a haystack way in the distance, near some wind turbines. It looked like it was probably a kilometer away, way off trail, but the haystack would definitely provide substantial wind protection, and being so far off the trail, I could be certain that pilgrims weren’t using the backside of it as a toilet. So I hoofed down to the haystack.

This haystack—or a strawstack as one of my blog readers kindly pointed out—wasn’t perfectly square like most of the ones I’d seen, and as a result, I could set up camp in a corner where the haystack could protect me from wind from two different directions. Wind-blown straw piled up around the stacks leaving a soft bed to sleep on. My only complaint was that I didn’t much like the smell of the straw, but it was a minor complaint. It was less annoying than camping in wind!

From my campsite, I continued to see pilgrims walking along the dirt road in the distance. It was rather surprising to see so many people hiking so late in the afternoon. Most pilgrims tended to stop by around 3:00 in the afternoon, and that was several hours earlier! I could only imagine that many of them had misjudged the lodging situation in Hornillos and reluctantly pushed on to the next town. 

Shortly before sunset, some ugly clouds started rolling in and spit out a few drops of rain. Nothing bad, but with a 30% chance of rain overnight (I checked the weather forecast while in Burgos), I decided to set up my tarp. Better safe than sorry!

I cooked dinner—after clearing my cooking area of the thick layer of straw—cleaned up, read my book, then fell asleep. The wind didn’t bother me any, but it certainly was loud and angry all night long, trying to figure out a way around the haystack where it could get at me. It didn’t, though. =)

A statue on the way out of Burgos.

FINALLY we’re out of Burgos and on more pleasant roads
to walk on! =)

Graffiti under a highway overpass.

A hearty little brunch: A bacon and cheese sandwich, donuts, and a Coke. =)

The small store where I stopped to eat. (You can see the bright orange
top of my backpack at the right-most table.) I didn’t even
recognize any of the faces of the other pilgrims coming out of Burgos!

The infamous Meseta! Okay, yeah, there aren’t any
towering mountains or anything, but I don’t care what anyone else says—
I still think it has its own stark beauty!

This lone tree, all by its lonesome, I kind of felt sorry for.
It should be with friends! =)

Heading into Hornillos. If you could see the original image,
blown up as large as possible, you’d probably count 30 or more
dots that are pilgrims walking along this road into town!

This tracker was grading the road, pushing pilgrims off the trail
as it went by.

Vivian (on the right) hangs out in Hornillos del Camino—one of the few
people I met today that I actually already knew.

Yes, I decided, that haystack would protect me from the wind.
That would be my home for the night! =)

Finally, a respite from the wind!

These clouds were rolling in fast, and they didn’t look so
friendly….

So before it got too dark, I went ahead and set up my tarp.
Better safe than sorry! =) The ground was so hard, I couldn’t
get the stakes in, so I weighed them down with nearby
rocks instead and drove them directly in the hay bales where I could.