The Real Wasteland: Four Hours of Sun, Dirt, and Survival
Today started like all the others: rise early, beat the heat, and get walking. Our exit from Sahagún in the pre-dawn hours was quiet. Most pilgrims were still asleep, including Bianca, and the streets were empty as we passed through the arch of San Benito, following the familiar yellow arrows out of the city.
The sun rose behind us as we quickly covered the first five kilometers to Calzada de Coto. Everything was closed, Mondays in Spain are treated like Sundays, but breakfast awaited at an Albergue in Calzadilla de los Hermanillos, about nine kilometers further. Fuel in our stomachs, we braced ourselves for the second longest Wasteland stretch of the Meseta, one no one had warned us about. Apparently, we were the only pilgrims who chose this route.
Soon the paved road ended, and the Camino continued across endless flatlands on a dirt path. A single beat-up shoe marked the first trail sign. Ominous, but somehow fitting. We were walking on history now: Via Trajana, an ancient Roman road, stretching into the horizon. No shade, no water, nothing but sun, dirt, and the sound of our footsteps.
Two hours in, a lone pilgrim overtook us, leaving us in her dust. Alone again, we pressed on. About two-thirds through the stretch, I lost sight of Crissi and panicked, but she was safely resting in a hidden patch of shade, water bottle empty. I gave her mine, knowing we had at least a few more kilometers to go.
The landscape barely changed, dry fields and brown-red dirt, but finally, after nearly four hours, a line of trees appeared like a mirage. Salvation! Through the shade, we saw bulls feasting on potatoes, a surreal reward for enduring this barren stretch. Yet no town emerged immediately, and my water reserves dwindled. I pushed harder, ignoring signage and blazing sun.
At last, a metallic pyramid atop a distant hill appeared like a lighthouse, guiding us to Reliegos. Relief and exhaustion collided. The paved road into town felt punishing after the dirt trail, and I collapsed on the curb. Crissi arrived shortly after, and we checked into an Albergue behind a bar.
This stretch deserves the name The Wasteland. It was hotter, drier, and lonelier than the first. Nearly four hours of relentless sun, dirt, and zero shade tested every ounce of endurance. After a quiet dinner with fellow pilgrims Walter and Yo-yo from Holland, and a brief reunion with Luis, we collapsed into our bunks. Six beds, one bathroom, and a chorus of snorers couldn't compete with the deep, needed sleep after today's ordeal.
Tomorrow, we hope to rest a bit, recharge, and finally leave the flatlands behind as we head for León.