Chillaxing on the meseta

 Burgos to San Bol, 26.3km

The time had finally come for me to drag myself out of Burgos, but not before the lovely lady on reception at my hotel bestowed one last act of kindness upon me and only charged me about a quarter of the price she had quoted me yesterday. ‘I think you needed a rest,’ she said. ‘And now you are a different person.’ 

Am pretty sure she wasn’t far wrong – amazing the difference spending 24 hours horizontal can make.  My boots went on without incident, and all day I have only had complaint from one solitary blister. I think I quite like this different person. 

Today has been all about the meseta, the long stretches of high plains with nothing to look at but the sky and the cornfields.  It is bare, yet obviously fertile, and reported to be the section of the camino where you are most alone with your thoughts and your demons. The theory is that the first third of the camino is for your body, the second for your mind and the third for your soul.  I pretty much make Burgos the one-third marker, whether that works by either distance or time I am not sure, but it works for me (though there is still a bit of body ework to be done!) 

I think I must have exercised all of my demons early with my little emotional outburst in Burgos, because I quite enjoyed the walk today and beside a little thinking about work (and more specifically work-life balance) there wasn’t a whole lot going on upstairs (other than The Proclaimers on loop again).  I was really just enjoying soaking up the vastness of the scenery – enormous green fields stretching to a horizon of snow-covered mountains and enormous blue skies decorated only with thin wisps of cloud.  

I did have one excellent moment when I was chatting with a tiny Korean girl sporting a backpack that appeared to be half her body weight. She had started at the same point as me, but four days afterward and had been averaging an impressive 40km a day.  As we were walking along, her walking stick – what appeared to be a solid wooden staff – completely snapped in half. She barely broke step, but looked at it slightly bewildered for a moment before laughing and saying ‘oh well, it’s destiny!’ A few steps later, still smiling, she hurled the other half into the empty field beside us, proclaiming ‘now I am free!’ immediately doubling  her already impressive pace and leaving me with a smile on my face and a racial stereotype squashed at my feet. 

As sad as I had been to leave the others yesterday, this was definitely a good time to be alone, walk at my own pace and, when the urge took me (which it did a few times) just stop by the side of the path, stretch out against my pack and chill for a bit.  

This week is Semana Santa (Easter week) in Spain, so it appears that most of the country is on holidays, and using their time off to walk a bit of the camino.  Actually, not just any bit, this bit! The SS Brigade, as I have dubbed them, are all travelling in quite large and often pretty boisterous groups, so stopping at any cafeterias or village parks hasn’t had the same appeal today. 

I was under strictest orders not to walk too far today, but was having such a lovely day by the time I reached Hornillos de Camino at the 20km mark and saw the SS Brigade buzzing about at every albergue like a swarm of wasps that I decided to continue on. I had been loosely aiming for Hontanos, although our little cheat sheet from the pilgrim office did say there was an albergue at the halfway mark between the two, but with only 12 beds, no kitchen, no wifi, no bar and no food available, it hadn’t seemed a very appealing option when Silvana and I were checking it out a few nights back. 

That was until I spotted it on one of the few gentle folds on the plain and then watched group after group of the SS Brigade pass it by, unwilling to make the 200m detour to check it out. Have to admit that by this stage I was hot, tired and the 5km from Hontillos had seemed like a full day’s walk so I was more than ready to call it a day. 

The San Bol albergue is nestled under some of the only trees I have seen on the plains, has a natural mineral spring for soaking tired pilgrim feet and is run by the most delightfully hospitable couple you could imagine. It is absolutely in the middle of nowhere which meant after a quick shower, all there was to do for the rest of the afternoon was to lay in a daisy field under a tree and read my book. The sacrifices you have to make!

I did have to deal with a night without phone coverage or wifi, but that was probably good for the soul and a small price to pay for finding this perfect little oasis. 

The evening meal was also a bit special – a massive paella with bread, salad, water and wine that was shared by the nine pilgrims roosting there for the night around a round table under a stone cupola. Pretty nice way to end a lovely day and can confidently say that I have obeyed orders and taken it easy today. offers a shared meal of paella, salad and wine around a communal table.  They also seem to have a fire burning under the dormitory which is heating the floor tiles, and the room .