Day 12 - San Juan de Ortega to Burgos

Big skies

Thursday: For the first time since we left St Jean Pied de Port 12 days previously, I didn't write my usual blog on the day of arrival. It was late, we were tired and it was 33 degrees. 

Friday: A rest day in Burgos.

First, what happened yesterday. When we strode strongly off from San Juan de Ortega we were remarkably over-confident. We'd had odd ailments and been tired more than once, but now we felt we were on top of it. We were getting fit and our injuries seemed to be behind us. By the end of the day we were exhausted wrecks. Not only that, I'd developed a painful blister on my right foot - exactly where I'd had the same trouble in 2019.

Our hotel in San Juan de Ortega had given us a packed lunch in lieu of breakfast, so there was no reason to delay our departure. However, we couldn't check in to our hotel in Burgos until the ridiculous hour of 4pm, so we slept in, had an awful coffee out of a machine and a banana from our lunch bag, eventually hitting the road at 7.30am.

Early morning along the way.

Storks trying to deliver a building.

The first 4km passed pretty easily. It was cool and we walked through pleasant countryside, sometimes out in the open and sometimes through groves of trees. When we got to the town of Ages we stopped for a coffee and delved in our lunch bags again for one of the two cakes they'd given each of us. Sadly, the coffee wasn't brilliant here either - milky and weak, so Cathie went and bought a couple of espressos, which we added to the brew and revved things up a bit.

After another couple of kilometres we passed through Atapuerca. When a railway line was built through the area between 1896 and 2001, human remains were discovered. They were eventually dated back to between 800,000 and 1.2 million years ago. I found a heap of interesting reading on Wikipedia: https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sitio_arqueol%C3%B3gico_de_Atapuerca#Primeros_descubrimientos_en_el_S.XIX

There's some sort of museum, more than a kilometre off the trail, but reviews are patchy and opening hours uncertain, so we pressed on to a difficult uphill stage. 

At the summit - behind us Cruz de Matagrande, the high point of the day at 1080m.

The day was heating up, the sun was beating down on our backs and we climbed (or stumbled) our way to the summit - a climb of two kilometres or so.

Just over the summit were our first views of Burgos, far in the distance. We were to walk another 18km before the end of the day.

The unlovely tangle of wire blocking off the military zone.

Since we left Atapuerca, we'd had an ugly tangle of barbed wire on our left. This was a military zone, who knows what they did there.

The less lovely side of Spain.

As we continued our stumble along the rocky path downhill, I was reflecting on the strange combination of beauty and ugliness you find in Spain. To our right was a huge open cast mine, topped by a fine collection of towers and masts.

Something else that I've noticed, not quite so ugly, is that from time to time you see huge piles of hay, just rotting away. These ones looked relatively fresh, compared to some of the piles we'd seen in earlier days.

If the unfriendly surface on the hillside had started to stir the memory of old blisters, the long and sweaty slog into Burgos finished things off.

First we had to make it to the eastern end of the airport. At that point there were various decisions to be made. In 2019 I'd gone right and walked down endless city streets for the last 15km or so. This time we were pre-warned and veered left.

Although we now on gravel paths, they were rough and caused our feet to slide around. There was no shade and it was getting hotter. Finally we made it past the airport and into the little village of Castanares. Still 12km to go. We rested, drank water and polished off the last of the lunch  bag.

Also resting there was Marianne from Houston, who we'd met over dinner the previous night.

Marianne, left, and Cathie, grinding out the kilometres.

Marianne was staunch, carrying a 9kg pack on her small frame. Between us we decided on the correct route, choosing the one that followed the river.

At first it was narrow and hard to follow, but after a while it widened out, with new seal being laid on and abundant benches. By then we'd reached the stage where the trail just seems endless. Eventually we crossed the river and struck off through town to find our hotel shortly before 3pm after 26km and nearly seven hours of walking.

Sadly, we couldn't check in until 4pm, so we wandered off and spoke to these two. They didn't say much but we were too tired to care.

We linked back up with the pilgrim path, just to get our bearings, sat down at the nearest bar and got a beer. Who should walk by straight away but Marianne, relieved to be close to her albergue and anxious to find it and get a bottom bunk. We noticed a woman - obviously a pilgrim, looking harassed. She was also tired and hungry and looking for food. A while later she came back, unsuccessful in her search and joined us for a beer - they were very generous with the olives too.

At 4pm we went to our hotel - Hostal Acuarela. It's a strange place.

The first thing we noticed was the vinyl on the floor. On the top floor there's a very open lounge area with plastic seats and tables looking like they're set up for a party. There are the normal rooms with numbers, but ours just has a blank door. Inside we have a huge space, with a sofa, an armchair, a fully equipped kitchen, including fridge and washing machine. There are two large outside decks, one with a canvas cover and the other with stairs leading to a huge private area with sun loungers, obviously not much used, especially in the blazing heat.

The strangest thing of all is that there isn't a proper bed. You can choose between one that folds out from the wall, or you can unfold the sofa. Both were made up with sheets.

Puzzling over that, we had very little time to grab another cold beer from the nearby supermarket and then go off to meet Marianne and our hungry new friend, an English woman called Cathy.

We each had one course. I had the chicken - to my surprise I was served a complete half chicken with a few chips and a tiny amount of delicious capsicum. No sign of any greens.

Cathie had fish - equally huge, with three whole fish. 

After a complimentary shot of a milky substance - probably Baileys, we were stuffed to the eyeballs and staggered off home and to bed.

We slept like logs, waking to a dramatic sunrise. Our complimentary breakfast at a cafe around the corner wasn't much chop. Just a small coffee and a nice boccadillo, so we wandered off exploring.

Burgos is a lovely city with a fantastic 800-year-old cathedral. By the riverbank we walked through parks and sculpture gardens, eventually wending our weary way to the supermarket. We stocked up on all sorts of food for dinner in and an early breakfast tomorrow and now I feel lunch and a siesta coming on.

Here's the Relive video (Note I got the name of San Juan wrong): https://www.relive.cc/view/v1OwQJDK4Xq

Here's a photo album containing shots from yesterday's walk and today's wandering (there are photos that haven't yet loaded, so the album will grow later): https://photos.app.goo.gl/nfbN1m4Q6XvegPSR7

As for today's earworm: As we walked through Atapuerca, I noticed a cantina. Growing outside were roses. Before you know it: https://youtu.be/-zBzZJd-nfw