Day 18, June 25th, 2023
How beautiful it is to wake up to the song of the larks at 4:15 a.m. in the middle of the meseta. However, the air is so incredibly dry that I have a sore throat and my already inflamed sinuses burn when I breathe. Even the tent is completely dry - no condensation inside, no morning dew outside, nothing!
While I am still rummaging around in the tent in near-total darkness, the first pilgrim passes by. A faint sliver of light on the horizon heralds the day and extinguishes the starry sky above as I set off. After only a short time, I reach the village of Hontanas and can hardly believe my eyes. On the village green at the entrance, two tents stand under some trees next to a fountain, and another pilgrim sleeps under the open sky, snuggled in his sleeping bag between picnic tables and benches. If I had only walked a little further yesterday, I could have stayed here in the shade and drink as much water as I want.
One thing is for sure, I will definitely walk to a village today, because surely every village here has some kind of village green with a fountain, I just never paid attention to it!
I like the little town of Hontanas. I would gladly stay here for a night if I ever come back. It is still too early for coffee though, no bar is open at this time so I will have to wait until the next town, Castrojeriz. When I get there, a pilgrim in front of me at a bar orders a coffee and spots two slices of pizza displayed on the counter in front of him. The pizza is square, a bit smaller than the size of a normal pizza, and the price is listed at 3,50 Euros per slice. The pilgrim wants to buy a slice, and when he goes to pay, the barmaid places a small board in front of him with a portion that is barely a third the size of the slice in the display case and only half the size of my hand.
He: »Is that mine?«
She: »Yes.«
He looks irritatedly from the small board in front of him to the piece of pizza on the counter.
»Quite expensive«, he says in a calm tone, whereupon the barmaid freaks out.
»What do you expect? Should I sell the pizza for one euro, or what? Go to America, there you will pay three times as much!«
The poor pilgrim is completely bewildered; he is simply hungry and expects more for his three euros fifty. I can't help myself and intervene, as I do, because I suspect a rip-off and find the barmaid's reaction really stupid. How was he supposed to know that 'a portion' is just a tiny piece of the already small slice of pizza? The barmaid is completely beside herself and keeps ranting about how she has just been to France and how expensive this and that is there, and that she herself is from Argentina, and anyway, Spain is so cheap, so what do we want, and so on. She just won't stop, even though none of us are saying anything. I would love to just walk out and not buy anything from her, but I really want this coffee! Outside I see the poor pilgrim gnawing on his mini pizza. He would need at least five or six slices that size to feel even remotely full.
Shortly after Castrojeriz, the road climbs steeply to almost 150 metres to the highest point of the Meseta, the Alto de Mostelares, and then descends again on the other side. Beyond this point, there are nothing but fields as far as the eye can see, and a seemingly endless track, dusty and dry, leading westward through the desolate landscape. I hear nothing but the chirping of crickets and a farmer in the distance raking grass with his tractor.
To protect myself from the sun, I drape my linen shirt loosely over my head and am really enjoying the hike. With the sun on my neck, it is much more pleasant than when it is shining from the front, like yesterday afternoon.
I pass a group of trees, in whose precious shade there is a picnic area, complete with solid tables and benches. A young man has set up a folding table next to it and is offering various things like coffee, cold drinks, fruit, small cakes and cereal bars. I grab a banana, an orange and an Aquarius and ask how much it costs. The young man says it costs whatever I want to give him. What a great idea! I give him three euros and eat everything right there so I don't have to carry anything. I am enjoying the vitamins and the refreshing break in the shade of the trees.
Just a mere two kilometres from my destination Boadilla del Camino, I can no longer put any weight on my feet, they hurt so badly. There is a tree where I lie down on my sleeping mat in the shade. I place my poor, clubby feet in a kind of trough filled with water and feel like crying with relief. Afterward, my feet burn and sting terribly which is almost as unbearable as the pain before. I have to persevere a little longer though, and with gritted teeth I slowly trudge on.
It is three p.m. At the entrance to the village I see a meadow that I could easily imagine as a place to sleep tonight. It even has a fountain, so I reckon this must be the village green!
But first I want to eat. A hostel with a restaurant and terrace is signposted - just what I need. The whole village seems deserted though, and when I stand in front of that hostel, I can't imagine it is open, let alone that they serve food. At least the door opens when I get in, I think, but it is just as quiet inside as the rest of the village and on top of that quite dark. A man is standing behind a counter on the other side of the room.
»Can I help you?« he asks right away when he sees me. The way he asks makes me immediately think the bar is closed, but I try my luck anyway.
»Can I have something to drink?«
»Yes, what do you want?«
I am relieved and order a beer. I am starving but my hopes of getting something to eat here are slim.
»Have you got anything to eat?« I ask, because it is worth a try after all.
»Where are you from?« comes the counter-question.
»Germany«, I reply.
"Komm mit (Come with me)", the innkeeper suddenly says in German and leads me into a side room. For a moment the absurd thought crosses my mind that he wants some special kind of payment in return for the food, but then a door opens onto a bright and sunny terrace where people are sitting at tables, laughing and chatting, while they eat the most delicious things. I hadn't expected that at all and am so happy. I prefer to stay inside though as I have had enough sun for today, and besides I want to charge my phone.
The innkeeper takes good care of me and immediately sends someone to take my order. I choose a sumptuous pilgrim's menu consisting of macaroni Bolognese, a crispy salad with roasted chicken, and an ice lollypop for dessert. It is so incredibly delicious, I even get a carafe of wine. The whole moment is somehow perfect. I have a toilet, I can soothe my sore foot soles on the cool tiles, I can drink and eat, charge my batteries, and I even have Wi-Fi - I can't believe my luck.
After I have finished my meal, I realise how exhausted I am. I just want to lie down and head back to the village green. There I lay on my sleeping mat under a tree and doze off. It is so hot and muggy, I am sweating buckets. The mosquitoes love that, so I am slathering myself in repellent before I get completely sucked dry.
Now here I am, hanging around on the village green, waiting for the sunset. After some time, a Frenchman and a Dutchman arrive, who also aim to pitch their tents here, which I find very reassuring. For supper, I eat whatever my rucksack has to offer: salami sticks, nuts, biscuits and some bread. And when the Dutchman starts putting up his tent, I pitch mine as well. I am so incredibly tired and want to sleep as soon as possible. By now I have such a bad cough that I couldn't possibly stay in a pilgrim hostel, I would keep the whole room awake. Can't I just have nothing for a change? Does there always have to be something?
Good heavens, I am tired.
Distance: 29,7 km / Steps: 46349
