We pack up and lock the albergue door behind us. Paul and Meg stop for coffee in town. It's a cool cloudy day- just right for walking. I've decided to follow the main Camino route rather than the coast path because of the mist and I soon bump into the Scottish couple. They had a comfortable €40 bug-free night and got their washing washed and ironed! We have a long conversation about the Referendum and its ramifications; they like me are pretty depressed about the whole thing. As I leave town I see a sign telling me it's 229km (142mikes) to Santiago.

We come to a nice sandy beach and I peel off to walk on the sand and then climb up a steep stairway to rejoin the Camino. There's a bar at the top of the steps and I decide to stop for coffee; there's Paul! We have a chat and he leaves before me; I probably won't see him again as he is planning a long walk today.

Figuares is the last town in the district of Asturias. I try to find a couple of local tourist sites, but just end up getting lost and find the shipyard instead, I have to ask several times for directions to el puente. The Riba de Ribadeo is a massive estuary spanned by a long bridge.

Ribadeo is a buzzy Galician city; I stop to have a tea in a health-food shop with a bar. They are playing local Celtic folk-music and I feel I'm going to enjoy Galicia! I rest for an hour to edit my photos and catch up with writing my blog. I decide to walk a bit further today and head for the next albergue at Vilela.

It's a 6km rural walk uphill, but it's lovely to be back in the woods and hills after days of coastal plain. I won't see the sea again until I reach the end of my journey.

The albergue is simple but nice. Clean and newly converted. The Scottish couple have already arrived and settled in. There's a bar next door which serves a Menu del Dia and breakfast, but there's nothing else here except grass and trees.

I have a shower and decide to wash everything I can and discover a.... bedbug in my sleeping bag-liner! Yikes. That means I've got to head for an albergue with a washer and dryer. Apparently 10 minutes in a hot tumble drier kills the ******s. I hope it was dead anyway? Luckily this albergue supplies paper sheets and pillow case so I can keep my sleeping-bag packed away.

I'm in the bar writing when a trio of young Germans come in and ask to stay in the albergue for nothing. The barmaid is cross (it's a donativo of €5/£4.20 each) and she tells them to walk on. Quite rightly I think.

One thing I dislike about Spanish bars is that the TV- sometimes 2 or 3 are always on. Usually it's pop videos or football- here it's non-stop war films. Luckily my Spanish is so bad I can't understand them, but the suspense music gets wearing!