Day 16 - Burgos to Hornillos (21km)

To paraphrase Manfred Mann's Earthband, this morning 'we are on the road again, wearing clean clothes again'. Much as I hate to leave the beauty of Burgos behind me, with so much left to discover, it is great to be moving on. I feel that the short break has allowed me to recover from an emotional and physical deficit that I had built up in the preceding days - one that I was only really aware of once I had taken a rest day.

Today we head out across the Meseta, a hot dry plateau that lies between Burgos and León, the next big city. They say the first third of the Camino tests you physically, the next third mentally and the last third brings everything together. This is the 'mental' section: it is relatively flat and featureless and in a short while will be uncomfortably hot in the heat of the day necessitating early morning starts. For us, with our current weather, we may manage to avoid that; we will see in the coming week. But there has already been a definite change in the landscape from the previous days. We have left the vineyards behind us, now see predominantly cereal crops, and already the soil seems dryer.

                        

The day passed quickly and once again the time off has resulted in a host of new faces accompanying us during the day, although it has also led to the reappearance of a few familiar ones. We arrived at the small village of Hornillos mid afternoon and after checking around eventually secured beds in a small albergue before enjoying a well earned beer.

Three things stick in my mind from the day: firstly the simple enjoyment of resting in the shade of a small copse that stood out from the flat and empty landscape, chatting with old friends; secondly, visiting a simple stone church on the outskirts of a small village in which an old woman sat and presented all who entered a simple necklace, passing it over your head with a blessing in Spanish, no money required or expected - just an act of love and faith. The third was meeting Omar. I had seen Omar during the course of the day, young and tanned with a mop of thick black hair and always carrying a big smile. As we enjoyed our end of day beer Omar sat nearby and we got chatting. Omar is from Kuwait. He writes poetry, poetry that saw him through to the semi-final of 'Arabs got Talent'. Interesting. And he is a Muslim on a pilgrimage with Christian history. Even more interesting. We shared a carafe of wine while he ate, under the full glare of the afternoon sun in the first few days of Ramadan. And we shared a beautiful, enlightening and honest conversation on Islam and faith in general. For me it was a touching moment and I hope that this young poet shared at least in part some of the emotion that he - contravening some of the tenets of his religion and yet in his heart a Muslim true to his faith - brought out in me.