Camino de Santiago Day 13: Burgos to Hornillos del Camino
Leaving Burgos, the End of the Beginning of the Camino. We're into the infamous Meseta, the middle section and so-called 'mental' part of the journey - though to be honest, I'm quite fond of the place
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Here we go then:
Off into the desert,
Or, more accurately: the lengthy stretch of flat industrial agricultural land.
Same thing, effectively – a land devoid of environmental stimulation. Overheard on the Camino:
“Oh I’m dreading it.”
“Oh it’ll be interesting”, or
“Oh the mental third”
Meseta Meseta Meseta.
Desert desert desert.
People can’t wait to get it over with already.
Heard of one woman who’s done the Camino and bussed the meseta every time.
“Sounds boring” she said.
Not interested.
I’m quite looking forward to it. We’ve heard so much about it now, we’ve even started telling people about it ourselves. Never been though. I think I’m still in that early trip restless. Eager to get induction out of the way and get to work. Onboarding complete. I get the Camino now. I feel at home here. I’m ready for whatever ‘mental challenges’ it throws up.
Sure no-one even knows what that means really.
How is the whole thing not a mental challenge? At various stages. Throughout the journey, throughout the day. Sure some days I’m flying it – until lunchtime. What goes up comes down.
And then of course it goes back up again. Sometimes physical, sometimes mental. Sometimes good sometimes bad. And sometimes I feel like pushing myself and doing something I’ve never done before, or wouldn’t usually do.
Or something unexpected happens, beyond your expectations.
Everything all of the time.
But this landscape, eh – I hear there’s none of it. Nothing there to grab your attention. So it all goes inside. So they say, anyway. Or so I assume.
I met a guy – a few years ago now – who was working as a white-water rafting guide in Alaska. A beautiful and stimulating part of the world, of course. And a lot of his customers would be from places like Nebraska or Indiana or the Dakotas. Or the middle of Canada.
Lands of cornfields and nothing else. Said the stimulation in an place like Alaska would blow their minds. Because they’re coming from a place with none. Seeing things like mountains and rivers and even just plain ol’ trees would trigger them into a state where they couldn’t shut up talking.
About what they could see
Or what they’d been up to for the entire year. Saving up all their energy for this annual trip. Mind-blowing.
Memories of childhood and so on, it’s all kicking off now.
Like they’d gone into a trance or something
So maybe the opposite would happen here
I did a silent retreat before (I may have mentioned). No external stimulation allowed whatsoever for 10 days. No talking but not even exercise or reading.
It sends you deep inside. You can’t avoid yourself in this situation. Things you’d never considered – or hadn’t considered in a while – rising to the surface.
Unavoidable.
Just you and yourself.
Maybe the Meseta would be like this. The ‘mental third’ of the Camino as they’re all saying. And now I can’t stop saying it
Going on about it, and on. For days.
Just 9 days walking through the desert. Not just empty places, they’re blank canvasses:
When nothing happens then maybe anything could happen.
No markings of time even – it’s up to you to decorate the page. Potentially beautiful, if you know how. Pure freedom – or pure chaos.
Hard to distinguish days from each other when there’s nothing to distinguish the spacses. There’s barely been a shift in the weather, to be honest.
Reality dissolving now
The ‘real’ world melting away
We’re well and truly stuck into the trip
Just you and yourself – if you’re lucky
A trip into inner space.
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I leave Burgos late.
2pm, like I own the place.
Dunno what everyone’s on about though – this place is mesmerising (once I’m well out of the city and past the hot highways).
It looks like the inside of a cake, the world sliced open.
My dinner-mates make the legendary comment:
“It’s like refreshing the feed.”
Faces scrolling by you every day on the timeline. Some you know some you don’t. Say ‘Buen Camino’ to give a ‘like’. Or leave a comment by saying hello.
The analogy is appropriate though. And this place every bit as real as hyperspace, or whatever they call the internet now. Real but not. A bubble but maybe honest than real life, if you know how to look at it.
At this stage we are all just playing for one big team. We are on Team Peregrino, Camino FC.
Over the days and weeks you meet people – on the same pace, or the same wavelength. You walk with people you eat with people. And groups form naturally over the passing of time – and kilometres on foot
Just like home, isn’t it? You have friends and groups of friends. But here you’re not linked by space, living in the same space, for example – or anything really. Other than the Camino.
And so you’re home is the road, and your friends are people on the road. And it’s inevitable that people leave just as quick as they arrive. Or, if you’re walking the same pace, in a similar manner – they tend to stick around
And people can slot in and out of your life quite easily. It’s neither good nor bad – it is what it is. Everyone’s gotta be loyal to how they want to walk, and nothing else
It’s liberating
I woke up in Burgos and realised I just had to keep walking. Some friends felt like hanging around, taking a day off.
So it goes.
I meet some acquaintances at breakfast and they book me a bed up the road. We barely speak the same language but we’re all walking the Camino.
You’re one of us now – and to be honest, even though we’ve only met in recent days – because we all started walking the same time from St Jean
We’ve walked the same path on the same days
Had similar experiences – or same same but different
But it feels now like I’ve known you all from the start
Here you become friends first ask questions later
Or become friends first learn Italian later – it’s not as important as you might think
Just walk down the road together
It’ll be grand.
Sure we’re all going the same way, more or less
Same same but different.
When I get to Hornillos I bump into friends I didn’t even know I had.
A large dinner for 25 or 30 people. For once, I know barely any of them. Blank faces a blank slate.
A new chapter now
Burgos was the End of the Beginning.
Looking forward to the trip into the desert
And seeing what’s up
If you’ve done the Camino, are thinking of doing it, or are just interested in discussing the Camino or travel in general - then please leave a comment. I’d love to hear from you.