Burgos to Hontanas
Thursday 13 November

We left Burgos early, as I was hoping to make up the extra kilometers our friends were ahead of us over the next two days. We were hungry, but the hotel breakfast was overpriced, so decided to find a bar heading out of the city. The first one had roadworks going on outside and was really noisy, but had perhaps the best coffee we had in Spain, but unfortunately no food. We moved around the corner and stopped again at another cafe for food, and not so great coffee.

Today we were heading into the legendary Meseta area. We had been warned that it was flat, windy and boring. I found the landscape beautiful, and the big sky’s were incredible. We really enjoyed the walk, and it was nice to spend some time with my brother. On the way we stopped at Rabe de las Calzados, at a bar for a coffee. The host was very friendly, showing us all sorts of souvenirs from all around the world. He blessed us and gave us both a small medallion with the Virgin Mary.

We walked onto Hornillos del Camino where we had planned to have lunch, but nothing was open. We caught up with my Italian friend, who had been having trouble with his feet and decide to stay the night there. We were all hungry, but there wasn’t even a small shop open. I broke out the emergency cheese, and a few dried figs that I shared… that would have to do us for the next 11 kilometers until we arrived at Hontanas.

I was loving the landscape, but glad I had stashed a few snacks. We were getting tired, and two kilometers out of town, the signs advertising alburgues began to appear. We liked the look one one in particular, and thought we would have a look at that one. As we entered the town I looked up to see our other Italian friend who had gone ahead the previous day. She said all the others were staying here to, and all in the Alburgue that we had thought looked the best. I really wasn’t expecting to be reunited so soon, but was really happy to see everyone.

My brother shouted us a private room, and we joined everyone in the bar for a drink. We were all together for a meal in the Resturant, and I noticed a pilgrim I had referred to as Miss Venezuela sitting alone, so invited her to join us. I had though she only spoke Spanish, but turns out she had a little English too. Two other Spanish pilgrims also joined us. The conversation was flowing, the food was good, and were were all having a good time. At the end of the meal, our young Irish friend got his guitar, and we all continued the evening with wine and song.


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