Distance travelled: 20 kilometers

I got started early the next morning, along with seemingly everyone else in the albergue. I would come to see that something about the Meseta seemed to unnerve people a little bit – as I mentioned, there was a bit less flexibility about where you could choose to end the day, and I think that made people feel more pressured to get there first, ahead of the rush.

As usual, our early start was rewarded with a beautiful sky. What a great way to start the day!

Some space gradually developed between us pilgrims who’d left Hornillos at around the same time, and within an hour I was back to having several hundred meters between me and the nearest people. It was quiet and wonderful. At one point, I recorded a 10-second video of the landscape around me and sent it to a few people, knowing that my Monday  morning looked distinctly different from theirs.

A few hours later, we finally came upon another town, where I stopped at a lively albergue/cafe to get coffee and a slice of tortilla. It was owned by a Cuban guy who was blasting salsa music through the speakers on the terrace and greeting everyone. I met a group of Irish guys who were doing their annual week-long portion of the Camino together.

Later in the day we passed through the remnants of the monastery of Saint Anthony, which used to shelter pilgrims as long ago as the 14th century. (Today, 14 pilgrims can still spend the night there, without electricity or hot water. I’ve heard it’s an experience.)

Just past the monastery, an enterprising Mexican man had established an outdoor pop-up cafe offering beer and watermelon to pilgrims in need of a break. I joined the Irish guys for a cold one and then continued on.

As we drew closer to Castrojeriz, I struck up a conversation with an American woman I’d heard speaking Spanish at both of my earlier stops. Andrea turned out to be a just-retired high school Spanish teacher from Minnesota, and we spent the next hour leading into Castrojeriz comparing notes from our teaching experiences.

Castrojeriz turned out to be a cute town nestled at the base of a tall hill with the remnants of a fortress on top. (A couple of ambitious pilgrims decided to hike up there for the view and said it was great.) My albergue was on the other end of town, and I was pleased with my choice. My eight-person room featured only stand-alone, non-bunked beds, and there was a quiet garden/terrace space in the center of the building. When I went out there to hang up some laundry, I met two Australian girls named Sam and Rosa; they will appear again in future posts.

I spent some time reading in this large plaza just down the street from the albergue. It felt marvelous to sit in the warm sun.

The evening’s communal meal (optional, so not attended by everyone in the albergue) was the least memorable of all the ones offered by an albergue. Conversation felt a little forced as I got the sense that a number of the other pilgrims sitting at the table were a bit socially awkward. It was a bit of a bummer to end the day on that note, so I crossed my fingers I’d end up in a more interesting situation the following night.