Bercianos del Real Camino to Mansilla de las Mulas, 16.6 Miles

I left at my usual time around seven this morning, bundled up against the forty-degree cold. The day stayed chilly, probably topping out around fifty under cloudy skies that mercifully never opened up.

This was my third full day crossing the Meseta, and I finally understand why this middle section of the Camino challenges pilgrims. Not physically—the terrain is flat as can be. But mentally, it's brutal. The path never changes, the scenery never changes, pilgrims spread out so there's little interaction, and stopping points become rare events. For the first time, the walking felt like pure drudgery. The day seemed endless.

Though I did meet one woman who found it all very soothing, so perhaps it's a matter of perspective.

The most excitement came from an unexpected encounter with cows. Everyone stopped to photograph them, myself included, simply because they represented something different in this unchanging landscape.

At least we're being spared the brutal heat that can make the Meseta truly miserable.

I'm staying tonight in Mansilla de las Mulas, population 1,663—larger than many villages we've passed through, but still just a church in the town center, albergues, and a handful of eating places. My accommodation involved a comedy of errors worthy of a shell game. Upon arrival, I learned my assigned room had water damage from recent storms. A young girl walked me to a different albergue, exchanged cash and pilgrim for another young girl, who then escorted me to a third albergue where I finally landed. I'm still not entirely sure what that was all about.

I caught up on laundry—three days worth—and hope it dries by morning.

Not the most riveting day. Tomorrow it's on to León.

Buen Camino