The Cadogan Guide, Northern Spain (Dana Facaros and Michael Pauls), describes the Alteplano thusly:
If the medieval pilgrim survived the storms, cut-throats and wolves at Roncesvalles, the Navarrese who exposed themselves when excited, and the dupers and fleshpots of Burgos, then they faced the dustiest, flattest, hottest and most monotonous landscape in Europe. The idea is that with nothing to look at one becomes introspective and meditative, altogether in a proper state to receive enlightenment. On the other hand, nearly all the route between Burgos and León is off the highways, on paths and lonely backroads where 20th-century intrusions are rare: their straggling hamlets of humble adobe houses, church towers crowned with storks and huge dovecotes (pigeon was the only meat the country folk could afford) evoke the Middle Ages as powerfully as any cathedral (272-73).
That is what we are opting to walk this May. Last year, in late May, we stayed at the home of someone whose father was on the Alteplano. Apparently, it was literally freezing with a stiff wind blowing into his face and he was most cold. So, we don't really know what sort of weather we're going to get.
Everyone says this portion is terrible and we certainly had pity on the pilgrims we saw three years ago as we whizzed by in the train. This go-round, we'll be the poor people slogging away, either roasting or freezing or maybe if we're lucky comfortably.
