{"id":3883,"date":"2023-06-25T19:09:00","date_gmt":"2023-06-25T17:09:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/steffi-luka.de\/?p=3883"},"modified":"2026-01-20T11:09:47","modified_gmt":"2026-01-20T10:09:47","slug":"hontanas-boadilla-del-camino","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/steffi-luka.de\/en\/hontanas-boadilla-del-camino\/","title":{"rendered":"Hontanas – Boadilla del Camino"},"content":{"rendered":"

Day 18, June 25th, 2023<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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!<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

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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!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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: \u00bbIs that mine?\u00ab
She: \u00bbYes.\u00ab
He looks irritatedly from the small board in front of him to the piece of pizza on the counter.
\u00bbQuite expensive\u00ab, he says in a calm tone, whereupon the barmaid freaks out.
\u00bbWhat do you expect? Should I sell the pizza for one euro, or what? Go to America, there you will pay three times as much!\u00ab
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<\/em>' 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.<\/p>\n\n\n