We continue on the meseta this day, our first full day on it. It is still lovely, but this is a day unlike the guidebooks describe again. There is no need of sunglasses and sunscreen. It is overcast and drizzly.The towns are few and far between. In this town, sunk down into a hollow, and seemingly kilometers from anywhere, the street on which we enter is named Calle Royale or Royal Street. Judging by appearances, it seems anything but.
It is more than 5 km before I even see the very isolated alburgue, a single building in a few trees, at San Bol. I hope that they either serve an evening meal or pilgrims who stop there are prepared with food of their own, for there is nothing even remotely close around. Stella and I are walking near one another, but walking our own walks. It is peaceful, quiet, reflective.
But I am wrapped in the cocoon of my poncho again which is less than ideal. The hood, on top of my wide brim hat, brings the edges of the hat down around my head. I keep the hat on, because the front brim keeps the rain out of my face, but with the side brims pushed down, it is like looking through the end of a conestoga wagon, or like being a horse with blinders. My range of vision is so limited: I can look down at the muddy track and rocks, or I can look straight ahead; I can't really see anything to the side without turning my whole body. Occasionally, every km or two, I stop and sort of twirl around to see where I have been or to look to the left or right. There is not so much to see except beautiful rolling green fields and more wildflowers, a gray, heavy-laden sky and rain moving in. There are more pilgrims in ones and twos and threes at varying distances ahead and behind. If I were home, it would be one of those wonderful days to curl up with a good book. But I am not home - I am out and about in the real world, having my own adventure, and I am glad for it.
The first real village is Hontanos, 12 km from Hornillos. I stop for my usual tee con leche and a chance to get off my feet for a few minutes.
The next really interesting stop is the ruins of San Anton, almost all the way to this day´s destination. There is actually an alburgue tucked into the ruins, but not one I think I would want to stay at - it would be pretty primitive. 
It is the Gothic ruins of a convent and the tall arches curve up gracefully to an open sky, pointing openly to the heavens.
There are recesses in the walls where the sisters left bread for pilgrims. To this day, it is still a place that gives out bread to pilgrims. These days, pilgrims also still leave messages for one another. There is one spot where pilgrims have left behind shoes.
St. Anton of Egypt was and is the patron saint of animals and is often depicted with a pig at his feet. He is associated with the tau (T) shaped cross, as is St. Francis. Castrojeriz (pronounced Cas-tro-her-RETH) is only a few kilometers further. Along the way, there is another incredible field of poppies and poppies.
If I was Dorothy and that was Oz, I'd be falling asleep about now. I am actually surprised to reach the town so quickly this day. It is a very pretty approach to the town with a tree-lined road. Up above the town, high on a pointy hill, is the ruins of a castillo, a castle. 
Closer, at the entrance to the town, is the Church of St. Mary (most of the churches are named for her, it seems). There are several other prominent churches here as well, and other ruins of convents and Roman walls. 
This town celebrated its MILLENIUM in 1974! Imagine. We have no idea what old really means in the US! The town straggles out along a 2 km backbone around the curving hill of the castle. The guidebook said that this is the town that has perfected the siesta, awakening only for its annual garlic festival! I can see why it has this reputation - in walking nearly the length of the town, I come across very few residents, and those mostly middle age and older, mostly men around a couple of bar/cafes that are open. A few younger men who are doing a little construction work. A couple of women who are shopping. Of course it is siesta time. Most of the buildings are shuttered - perhaps Castrojeriz is the Spanish version of Brigadoon! I walk by one shuttered house and hear music coming out. I pause for a moment, trying to place it, and then I laugh! It is "Dixie" played with Spanish instrumentation and flair, no wonder it sounded familiar!I finally find the alburgue. It begins to rain in earnest after I reach the town. Stella is behind me and gets rained on just as she is arriving.
We meet a Swiss man at the alburgue who is making his 13th Camino. He has done lots of routes and both a pie and a bici. He recommends La Taberna down the street for dinner, so we go there, after we tour the town and the Cathedral de Santa Maria. Much of the church has been turned into a museum, and again, I don't mind paying the small admission fee to help with the upkeep of the building. While we are there, a mass is being said in French for a group of tourists. Even after the siesta time the town seems empty, with very few children, though there is a school. One of the other churches has a handicap accessibility ramp that I'm sure Mom would never dream of using!
The sun has come back out for a little bit as we head back to the alburgue to put our feet up for just a bit before heading out for dinner. By the time we leave for La Taberna, the clouds are back. Between the alburgue and La Taberna, we find an outfitters' store, the first we've seen, so we go in and explore. It isn't so different from an American one, but we don't find anything we have to have. So we go on to La Taberna.
Antonio is the owner. He is wonderful. We get there about 6 and the restaurant doesn´t serve until 7, so we sit at the bar. He pours us local wine which his friends have made. He gives us a plate of olives that there is something special about that his friends have made - Stella says they´re wonderful, I´ll have to take her word for it. Then he prepares us a plate with bread, olive oil (first pressing) and cheese from sheep´s milk (all local) that his friends have made. This is all gratis. It is the best cheese like this you can imagine!
Then it is time for dinner, and we go into the back room, the restaurant.
By this time, several others have come in and are at other tables. The first course is lentils with chorizo, then a wonderful chicken cooked in ale, served with real french fries and a salad, and flan for dessert. The atmosphere is so authentic and so warm and wonderful. A perfect evening that we don´t even mind the drizzle to walk back to the alburgue.
