September 15, 2018
- Route: Burgos to Hontanas
- Distance: 30.9 kilometers (19.16 miles)
After last night’s dinner with my two new Dutch friends in Burgos, I felt refreshed and ready to take on the next major challenge of the Camino – the much discussed meseta.
What is the meseta, you ask? It’s the name given to the flat, expansive heartland region of Spain. It’s often likened to the Great Plains in the United States. Filled with vast agricultural fields, the meseta isn’t nearly as scenic as the Basque and wine regions that started my journey. But, for anyone looking for quiet and solitude, you can’t do much better than walking across this stretch of land.
Fear mongering
The Camino Frances traverses the meseta for approximately a 220-kilometers – which is more than 25% of the entire route. Pilgrims who’ve walked this section of the Camino in the past have already warned me about the intense heat, lack of shade, and limited water sources along the way.
The meseta phase of the Camino stretches from Burgos to Astorga, and it’s the stuff of folklore and fear-mongering. Much like “the Sierras” on the Pacific Crest Trail or “the Whites” on the Appalachian Trail, people seem to be obsessed with talking about this particular obstacle. And there’s much dinner table discourse about whether it will be too hard and whether people should skip the meseta all together.
I’m not particularly worried by all this chatter. The meseta’s terrain isn’t physically demanding. In fact, it’s supposed to be flat, easy walking most of the way. But pilgrims who are used to walking shorter distances each day might be concerned with the longer stretches between towns and supplies. I already carry my lunch with me (rather than stopping) most days. So, the 15-20 kilometers that seem space out the towns during this section of the Camino don’t worry me at all.
My personal anxiety surrounding the meseta is brought up by something entirely different. While others are gnashing their teeth about the boredom of walking long stretches, I’m worried about the inevitable bottlenecking the will occur around the limited number of towns.
Will there be room at the inn?
Thus far, I’ve actively avoided staying in the more popular stopping points on the Camino. Instead of huddling with the masses, I enjoy the stopping in the smaller, off-the-beaten-path towns. One of the best parts of my journey is the freedom to be more introspective. But now, with fewer towns to stop in through the meseta, there’s a strong possibility all the pilgrims will begin clump up in large groups moving from town to town.
This brings up a second worry. With fewer places to stop during this stretch, there might not be enough beds in town to accommodate all the pilgrims. As I’ve discussed in prior journal entries, many albergues tend to fill up quickly with the folks who want to stop walking early in the day (or those who call ahead to make reservations). This new reality has me wondering whether I’ll even have the option of walking until the middle of the afternoon if I want to secure a bed at night.
I’m trying not to let my fears get me too worked up though. I’ve overheard many of the pilgrims discussing their plans to skip the meseta entirely. Some simply don’t want to walk this segment because it’s considered less scenic. Others are on tight schedules that require prioritizing which sections they can accomplish during that timeframe. And this means the meseta is the first piece to hit their itinerary’s chopping block. Well, whatever happens, I’m sure it will all work out, right?
Hayfields
It took me close to an hour to get out of Burgos with another typical long walk through the suburbs of a major town. Once I finally returned to the countryside, I was greeted by recently harvested hayfields. As far as I could see, it was just acres upon acres of yellow and brown. I guess this was my official welcome to long, dry the meseta.
That’s not to say that it was completely dull though. I passed several places where the locals deliberately tried to spice things up a bit and add a bit of color to my day. From murals to brightly painted doors, everyone seemed to want to add a little spice to the humdrum scenery.
I arrived in the super small town of Hontanas around 2 p.m. and quickly decided that I didn’t want to tackle another 8.7 kilometers to get to the next town with an albergue and food. Although I didn’t think the meseta would take much effort, I may have underestimated how much energy the hot afternoon sun would zap from me. When I rolled into Hontanas, my throat was parched and I felt like I had a thin layer of dirt coating my entire body. It was definitely time to stop and find somewhere to rest.
Sangria time!
Despite my earlier fears about overcrowded towns, I had no issue finding a bunk. I also thoroughly enjoyed cooling down with a fresh shower and getting the dusty grime off my body at the albergue. Before long, I was back downstairs to order a late lunch from their restaurant. That’s when I noticed the bar had a giant urn filled with sangria sitting atop it! Man, oh man. I haven’t had sangria even once since I arrived in Spain! What a perfect opportunity to experience a glass (or three) of this quintessential Spanish beverage.
Sitting outdoors on the covered patio with my sangria and a fresh salad was a fine way to spend the afternoon. As expected, there were a lot more pilgrims in town relaxing at nearby tables. I opted to remain alone and read my book at the table, but that didn’t stop me from eavesdropping on the English-speaking groups sitting nearby talking about the Camino.
Listening to them boast about how many miles they walked (some of these guys were claiming they’d already done 40- and 50-kilometer days) was really quite humorous. One one end of the spectrum, I’ve encountered laid back Europeans who barely want to walk 10-20 kilometers per day. And now, I’m sitting here while half a dozen North Americans, Kiwis, and Aussies trying to “one-up” each other as they talk about how far they can hike in a day. Their hyper-competitive swagger only seemed to grow grander as they consumed more and more beers.
I knew if I sat there long enough, I might get sucked into this absurd conversation. So, I got up to walk around the sleepy town and take in the sights. I strolled past brightly painted doors, fountains, and even a fence made out of a wagon wheel (which reminded me of that scene from When Harry Met Sally where the Jess and Marie are bickering over the wagon wheel coffee table).
Admittedly, my amusement over this wagon wheel might be a sign I had one too many glasses of sangria with my lunch. And with that, I decided to take an afternoon siesta before dinner and think about what my second day in the meseta might bring tomorrow.