DAY 56. 2 JULY 2016. VILELA TO LOURENZÁ.

July 4, 2016

I love being back in the mountains. Galicia is beautiful and I feel refreshed and invigorated; the only problem with mountains is that you have to climb them and there was plenty of UP and down today. But after a cool misty morning the sun came out and it's now a lovely clear evening and the low evening sun lights up the wooded sides of the mountains.

The galumfing started really early in the albergue. Someone's alarm went off at 5.30am which is pretty anti-social. As we get closer to Santiago there are pilgrims walking serious distances in order to finish by their deadline.

I have a picnic breakfast outside the albergue, partly to lighten my pack. It seems to get heavier day by day!

The wildlife is more varied here up in the mountains. I see a large stoat (big bushy tail) running across the road and the thrushes singing in the woods are glorious. A young robin flies ahead of me on the path and I hear a bird I've never heard before. It makes a brrrr sound. There are dairy and beef herds but no cow bells here. I stop watch a family of kittens play in a garden.

There are a few very small villages en route. At the top of a big hill, I stop at San Xusto for a shandy and pastry in a tiny bar run by a farmer and his family. I'm glad the Camino brings some extra income to these very remote places.

The granaries (Hórreos) are different again. They are long and thin and raised up on very tall stone pillars. The Camino sometimes pass underneath. I guess they are for drying maize rather than storing grain and equipment. They are built of slate and timber with uncut slate roofs which is characteristic of the area.

The stone barns are also interesting. They have a chequerboard of ventilation openings. Very striking.

I arrive at Lourenzá about 4pm; I do my washing, have a snack and a 2 hour siesta. I'm very tired after the walk- the gradients really take it out of me. It's a nice hostel with disposable sheets so I can keep my sleeping bag stored away. There are a couple of Danish girls in the dorm; the rest are Spanish men. The three pilgrims who tried to stay for free the previous night arrive mid afternoon. I'm the only one around and am not sure what to think when they raid the fridge and eat the left over food in the kitchen. They give me an uncomfortable feeling and I'm glad when they move on.

Lourenzá is a pleasant small town which has an amazing monastery with a fine facade.

DAY 55. 1 JULY 2016. TAPIA DE CASARIEGO TO VILELA.

July 4, 2016

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!

DAY 54. 30 JUNE 2016. NAVIA TO TAPIA DE CASARIEGO

July 3, 2016

Up and out. I have a cup of tea and a croissant on the way out of town; the market is just setting up and I stop to buy some fruit. Some produce looks home grown and I wish I could buy some real salad.

I have to cross the river to leave town and then it's a stiff climb up out of the valley with good views looking back. The timber mill makes an elegant plume of steam into a pale blue sky. It's going to be a hot day.

After 10km I cross a small river and have the choice to detour from the Camino along the coastal path. Almost immediately a wonderfully azure sea appears and then I turn inland to follow a small fast-flowing river for a while; the path is dappled with circles of light filtered through sweet-chestnut leaves. It's cool in the woods. There's an old mill race and derelict mill.

I arrive at the albergue at Tapia de Casariego about 3.30pm. It's right on the coast overlooking an amazing cove with off-shore rocks and a small pebbly beach. There's an old washing-shed, a well and a stream flowing into the sea. A watery place.

Paul the Swiss guy has already arrived and a Polish girl who is walking Eastwards, which must be tricky because all the yellow arrows point to Santiago.

A Scottish couple who I met somewhere earlier arrive but they decide to find a hotel on inspecting the state of the sheets; pretty dirty. They have volunteered as Hospitaleros and can spot the tell-tale deposits of bedbugs! I'm trusting the perythyn in my bug-sheet; for better or worse!

I walk the short distance into the town and report the state of the bedding to the Tourist Office who manage the albergue. They blame the pilgrims! But I hope they sort it out.

It's a small seaside town and I wonder around for a bit; there's a school bagpipe band practicing in the basement of the town hall.

The supermarket supplies my supper and a picnic for tomorrow and then I go to mass at 8pm. Then pop into a bar and make a wifi call home; the wonders of technology!

I warm up my can of Esturian bean stew- delicious with a tomato and cucumber salad and eat it overlooking the cove listening to the roar of the surf. Paul says that this is his place; it does have a powerful atmosphere.

DAY 53. 29 JUNE 2016. LUARCA TO NAVIA

July 2, 2016

The climb up out of Luarca was pretty demanding but with good views down over the bay and then onto fairly level tracks and roads.

At one point I misunderstand the yellow arrows and start off in the wrong direction over a motorway bridge; as if from nowhere a troupe of cyclists arrive and put me back on the track right. Sometimes the arrows are placed facing the wrong direction, so they are only visible once you've gone past them. At another point I head up a hill and a lorry honks and then a car stops to tell me to turn round. I imagine that I'm fairly invisible as I trudge along, but watchful eyes are making sure I get to Santiago!

I stop to photograph some fun metal animals outside a farmhouse at El Palacio. The old man comes out for a chat; when he finds out that I'm English he says something to the effect "Britain has left the EU but you're European!? He looks puzzled and I just sign 'crazy' and 'gun to head'.

As I climb up through eucalyptus plantations the magenta heather is blooming amongst the bracken. A wide white track travels up to the horizon. Lovely.

On the way I stop at a bar for water and a woman, who I initially thought was English walked in. It turned out later that she is Belgian and works for the Dutch organisation that looks after pilgrims in Santiago. She's walked seven pilgrimages and has her routine honed to the tee!

We meet up again in town trying to find a pension and have a drink in the evening; then I bump into Paul a Swiss-German guy I had met in the road yesterday and we meet up for supper.

Navia is an industrial port-town on the wide Rio Navia and although it has ancient origins there is little remaining. There are several large bridges, a timber processing plant billowing steam, some shipyards, a railway station and lots of bars. There is no albergue here, so I check into a pension- a single room with shower for €25. Not good value, but there was not much choice. But on the upside the water was hot and the restuarant downstairs served a nice Menu del Dia. Squid and chickpea stew followed by mixed salad and an apple and a whole bottle of red wine, which Paul and I share.

It's Fiesta night in town - so I don't get much sleep. The music goes on until 3am and then I get bitten by something... I sincerely hope it's not a bed bug. I get up in the middle of the night and strip the bed and put on the bedbug sheet. Buen Camino!

DAY 52. 28JUNE 2016. LUARCA REST DAY

June 29, 2016

A very good night's sleep! The Physio was a nice chap who trained because he had suffered an injury as a child. My calves feel better and he has given me some more stretching exercises which I MUST do.

I've got a jippy tummy today, probably from the dodgy meal last night. So am sitting in a little bar on the esplanade downing a bottle of sidra for purely medicinal purposes.

I've just read about Farages's speech to the EU parliament and am feeling dejected and bemused. How did we get here? Selfishly, I'm feeling my Camino has been over-taken by events- but perhaps that's the whole point. What does the Camino teach me?

Spain still retains its myriad of little shops

I pop into a lovely old fashioned grocery store whilst exploring the town and spot some Twinings Earl Grey tea-bags- just what I need at a time like this. A nice cup of tea.

A nice glass of tea - cups are not available.

Unsurprisingly, I received a very smug reply to the email I sent to my MP. He seems to think trade with China and India will make everything wonderful. If not, he'll be off to some sunny tax-haven with his multi-millions, no doubt. Let's hope our Johnny can earn more than 3 rupees day now he has a new master.

I see a man and white van on the harbour side packing sea-food into boxes of ice. I ask to buy some mussels, at first he thinks I want ice, but I point emphatically to the fresh mussels and he packs me a portion and doesn't want payment. So another Camino lesson about generosity. The kindness of a stranger. Beautiful.

The sun has come out and I'm going for a walk on the other beach. I paddle back and forth and howl at the horizon for a bit and feel better. There's some graffiti sprayed on the sea-wall that says in English "Refugees not welcome". Mmm.

Cooking mussels in the albergue microwave works fine, and they're delicious.

After supper I hear three young Australians in the kitchen discussing BREXIT. I stupidly say it's crazy, that there is a huge petition for a second Referendum and that the Financial Times thinks it may not happen. They give me a bemused dismissive look; I feel that I have lost the right to comment, as if the UK has already become an ignorant irrelevance.

I'm musing the similarity between the BREXIT vote and the American Pro-gun lobby. The desire and sense of 'entitlement' to do "what the hell we want" whatever the consequences. This has of course been around for ever, well since Adam and Eve and that fruit. Knowledge without wisdom can have disastrous consequences. I suspect there will be a very large cherubim and flaming sword guarding the locked gates of the EU in two years time.

Lord Have Mercy. For ourselves and each other.

DAY 51. 27 JUNE 2016. CADAVEDO TO LUARCA

June 29, 2016

Another restless night. The next morning I try to explain why to Maria, the Czech girl.

I pack up and go the restaurant for a slice of tortilla for breakfast and then on the road. It's much easier walking today, with just a few steep paths to get over motorways. Deciduous woodland and pine plantations as well as the eucalyptus which is a welcome change. Eucalyptus makes an untidy woodland to my eyes; the bark peels off in long strips and the leaves don't rot down to the same soft consistency of mould, nor does it filter the light in the same way. On the upside- the smell is lovely on a hot day.

The local vernacular architecture has changed; the old roofs are black slate instead of terracotta tiles and the granaries are usually raised up on top of houses or barns, rather than being free-standing. Perhaps they are drier or more secure.

I pass a small sawmill; the oak planks neatly stacked on the roadside.

I come across a small saw mill in one village. The huge oak tree trunks are piled up at one end an neat stacks of timber at the other. Three men in blue overalls seem to be the team and the equipment is just a larger version of the saws in a normal woodworking workshop.

I catch up Maria a couple of times and we walk some stretches together, but she's much fitter than I am and disappears up the hills and out of sight. She's planning to sleep rough tonight.

The Camino winds through a lovely grassy plain

I arrive at Luarca about 3pm and stop in a bar on the outskirts to have a beer and Russian Salad - which is ok but expensive. It's a nice seaside town with two beaches and the private albergue is new, light and comfortable. I'm planning to spend a couple of days here as there probably won't be many be more beaches to lounge on.

I spend a couple of hours asleep in the sun on the town beach surrounded by the sound of crashing waves. Lovely. Then off for a stroll around town which is charming and undeveloped; it's bisected by a small winding river that flows out at the town beach and is crossed by several small bridges.

I pass a Physio clinic and make an appointment for a massage tomorrow. My poor calves are as stiff as boards and my Achilles' tendons are feeling the strain and need some attention.

DAY 50. 26 JUNE 2016. SOTO DE LUIÑA TO CADAVEDO

June 27, 2016

A slow start. I find breakfast in a local bar. The guide book says it's going to be an easy day but that's a lie. It's mainly on nice quiet winding roads but the hairpins are shortened by sudden plunges into eucalyptus plantations down ravines with streams at the bottom, that need to be forded on wobbly stepping stones, followed by steep ascents. Knackering. After 3-4 of these I decide to walk the extra distance on the Tarmac.

Fording stream 1 was the easiest. I liked the yellow arrow just incase you were unsure.

Locals are invariably kind and helpful and bear with my appalling and 'not getting any better' Spanish. They often stop for a chat or stop their cars to point out the route. It must be strange to have a constant flow of strangers striding through their towns and villages.

Most of the walk is along the coast amongst woodland, with sudden views of a deep blue sea and an occasional secluded cove; mysterious deserted places. I come across another ox-shoeing frame in a small village. A remnant from another world.

I arrive at the albergue in Cadavedo about 3.30pm. A nice Frenchman makes me a cup of tea. It's extremely basic, but clean and after washing me and some clothes, I go and find the local restuarant. A family run place, full of more families finishing their Sunday lunch.

I'm late but they still serve me Menu del Dia. Chick-pea and prawn stew followed by a huge plate of cooked ham in onion gravy and chips, of which I manage about half. Followed by coffee.

After I go the the bar down the road and order a glass of red wine and write my blog. Then back to the albergue - full house; mainly French and Germans and a sweet Czech girl. No one mentions the Referendum.

The on-line reading is sad. It's dawned on the Cornish and Welsh they will loose their millions of pounds of EU funding. What were they thinking was going to happen to it?

I'm now just over halfway through my journey. Joseph Campbell in his studies of the 'Hero' mono-myth writes that the hero has to leave everyday life in order to set out on an adventure and that halfway is the most perilous time. It requires a period in the underworld, an impossible task or a dangerous encounter. Before dipping down into this Other world, which may require death of the old order, s/he is often given wise guardians with good advice which they require to survive (often by old crones). If successful they may return Home with the wisdom they have gathered.

I feel now that I'm needing to confront some of this darkness in what's happening at home. Some deep underground structures that underpin my identity have been shifted. I need to go and have a look at the damage and find out what else I am in this dark, wordless base-chakkra place. What will the Camino give me to bring home with me?

Pacer tells me I've done 33,777 steps with an active time of 5.5hours- which it thinks is 16 miles but is probably 14. Feels it!

DAY 49. 25 JUNE 2016. SAN ESTABAN DE PRAVIA TO SOTO DE LUIÑA

June 27, 2016

View across the estuarine harbour in front of the hostel

I set out about 8am along the coast route. It's lovely to see the sea again. I have breakfast at a picnic area on a headland with the sound of the waves all around me. Very therapeutic.

It's a grey day again but dry; the track takes me through a small fragrant pine wood which always reminds me of holidays in Greece.

In Muros de Nalon it's market day and the cheese and vegetable stores are stupendous. I just wished I had a big lunch to prepare.

I rejoin the main Camino route and bump into the German girls, the American guy plus two other pilgrims at coffee time- where's there's a bar there a pilgrims! I'm trying out a tuna 'empanada' which is like a pasty, but it has too much pastry for me.

The Camino today is a mix of roads with glimpses of the sea and stoney forestry tracks through Eucalyptus plantations. I have a coffee and picnic lunch by the beach at El Rellajo and watch children playing on the sand.

The walking is hilly with several stiff climbs up from sea-level. The most spectacular was after lunch when the path travelled underneath the spectacular Viaducto 'Concho del Artedo' which is at an elevation of 1200m (4,000 feet)

Its beautiful sinuous form snakes through the hills but it takes a lot of walking around

I arrive at Soto de Luiña about 4.30pm and book into a hotel that has a hostel attached; a room with adjacent shower for 15€. I'm exhausted and have a cup of tea with an American girl in the lounge.

Then a hot shower at supper at 8pm. The receptionist kindly puts my nearly-dry washing in the tumble dryer. The food is expensive and awful, but I was just too tired to walk up the road to the bar.... I go to bed early but wake up after a couple of hours. I've switched the fluorescent ceiling light off, but it flashes on again every 5 seconds. Arghh. I don't sleep well.

DAY 48. 24 JUNE 2016. AVILÉS TO SAN ESTABAN DE PRAVIA

June 25, 2016

I heard the result of the EU referendum in the dorm this morning and am feeling shocked and sickened. One of the pillars of my identity has been kicked out from under me; I thought I was living in a Modern European democracy. It appears not. I commiserate with a Yorkshire couple and a man from Northern Ireland; goodness knows what's going to happen now.

It's a warm wet day: I set out with my umbrella from Avilés, but the yellow arrows give out, or I'm so shocked I can't see them. I'm distracted and have to use my app to get out of town. I realised that following the arrows requires mindfulness and constant awareness; I'm thinking about what country I might emigrate to and whether my pension would be valid abroad. Not a good space to be it.

The route today is inland on roads and logging tracks; some full of mud and water. I have to scramble up a steep bank at one point to avoid an impassable section.

At Santiago del Monte I shelter in a chapel porch from the heavy rain and meet a young American guy doing the same. He has blisters so I give him some wool for his shoes. The chapel is C12th and dedicated to Nuestra Señora de los Remedios, which was a hospital for pilgrims. I feel in need of Los Remedios right now.

At Soto del Barco a few km further on, we pass a castle perched above a bend of the river.

A couple of German girls in the dorm told me that there is a nice hostel and sea-views at San Estaban de Pavia, so I take their advice and head there. I arrive at 4pm after a long 22km in the rain. It's an estuary port with a single track railway and dock side cranes on a wide stretch of water. The hostel is pretty dowdy and luckily I get a bed in a room by myself, but it's definitely bed-bug sheet territory.

I meet the German girls in a bar later; I don't think it's quite what they had imagined either. They have the Pilgrims Menu in house; I go out for an overpriced tapas of mussels and salad.

While I eat supper I'm reading BBC News and the Guardian online and when I get up to pay the bill, I burst into tears at the bar. The barmaid looks completely bemused and doesn't understand what I'm trying to say; I feel foolish and hurry away to bed.

DAY 47. 23 JUNE 2016. SANTILLIANA DEL MAR TO AVILÉS.

June 24, 2016

The taxi arrives to take us to Torrelevega bus station at 9.15am and Dad and Linda set off to sunny Salamanca and I catch up with emails and blog in bar with wifi until 12.45pm when I catch the bus back to Gijón. It's a very grey journey with low clouds and no mountain views, made more sultry by the anti-glare film on the bus windows.

A British couple behind me are squabbling because the weather is so grim. It is! This isn't the bit of Spain to visit for non-stop sun.

Some glorious coal powered power stations en route.

Since I've already spent four nights in Gijón; I make a decision to escape the time-warp and travel to Avilés by bus. The motorway journey takes 30 minutes through a heavily industrialised landscape and I'm rather sad to miss the grit of the walk. We pass several coal-fired power-stations belching dramatic clouds of steam en route. However when I arrive I realise it was a good decision; it is the natural next stop on my journey and preserves the correct order in my Credential. I discover that Avilés is an interesting mix of old and new and the albergue is clean, well run and costs €6.

But it's back to the bunks and men in skimpy underpants. An Italian chap moves into the bunk next to mine and starts a loud conversation about kilometres with a fellow Italian across the dorm. Mmm.

I have a nice hot shower, do some washing and go to explore. First stop Centro Niemeyer; a cultural centre designed by the Brazilian architect Oscar Niemeyer. It is reached by a dramatic Cor-ten steel bridge across the old docks and has splendid views of the belching power-station, coal depots, cranes and ships. This is an industrial city with chutzpah.

Then I turn inland to the Old City with its marvellous arcades, cobbled streets and spacious squares. It's a University town with an art-school. I stop in an arcade bar for a beer and then a Pilgrim's meal for €9. Fabada bean stew followed by tortilla and pudding with a bottle of red wine. I only manage a couple of glasses.

It's EU referendum night. There's lots of stuff flying around on the internet and I'm glad I'm a thousand miles away.

DAY 46. 22 JUNE 2016. SANTILLIANA DEL MAR HOLIDAY

June 24, 2016

A glorious sunny day and a feast of a breakfast. Linda is very keen to walk some of the Camino so we set out through the town, first to the East and then after a coffee, to the West. There are distant views of the mountains in one direction and a glimpse of the misty sea in the other.

Romanesque carving on the East window of the church

Following the yellow arrows has become second nature to me; pilgrims trust them with their life. Some people walk without maps and just follow the arrows to get them to the next albergue. Most of the time the route is clear and seeing them becomes subliminal. In fact my eye often picks up yellow flowers or litter as well as the arrows, which are painted in all sorts of places: kerb stones, the back of road signs, fence posts, rocks, crash barriers and on the road. As well as the formal metal, concrete and timber sign posts. If I don't see an arrow for a while I get anxious and slightly paranoid; it's always such a relief to see the next one peeping out from wherever it might be. They become comforting friends that encourage us on.

But I also have a Camino del Norte app on my phone with a GPS route-map and a moving blue dot which I refer to when I lose the arrows- which happens from time to time.

We return to town for lunch about 2.30pm and choose three raciones: prawns with garlic, Pimento de Padron and a selection of local cheeses. The cider is sweeter and milder than yesterday and we easily get through the bottle, but then need our siesta.

We set out on the walk uphill out of town to the Altamira caves about 5pm. The pre-historic cave paintings are a UNESCO World Heritage site and were the first examples to be discovered in Northern Europe; archaeologist in the 1890s thought they were fake because they are so fine and well preserved. Now experts think the earliest ones may have been made by Neanderthals.

Due to huge numbers of visitors and ensuing deterioration the original caves are closed to the public. But there is an excellent museum and a full scale reconstruction of the 100m long caves; it lacks the chill frisson of a real cave and the sense of encounter with the original, but still give a good idea of how the artists? used the rippling contours of the roof of the cave to suggest 3D representations of bison and horses in ochre and charcoal. There is also scratched detail of the graceful silhouettes and a series of hands in red ochre. They are skilled, highly stylised drawings; honed distillations of form that capture the essence and power of the animals -some paintings are 18,000 years old.

The weather has changed and it's cold and misty. It's that Arco Atlantico climate again! We find a very nice Menu del Noche and sit in a loggia overlooking the garden. It's beginning to rain but luckily it's a short walk to the hotel.

Time to pack and go to bed. We leave early tomorrow.

DAY 45. 21 JUNE 2016. GIJÒN TO SANTILLIANA DEL MAR

June 23, 2016

She's got a ticket to ride. From Gijon back to Santilliana del Mar. It took 3.5 hours by bus to retrace my step with spectacular scenery as we wind through the Picos mountains with snow capped mountains in the distance.

I recognise the towns I pass through and muse: "that's where I bought my picnic" or "I walked down that street" and feel like a spectator of my own life.

I arrive at the modern town of Torrelevega at 12.45 and receive a text from Dad and Linda to say that they have arrived. So I do a very un-pilgrim thing and... jump in a taxi!

Actually I share a taxi with an elderly couple who are going to visit someone in the hospital and 10 minutes later I'm back in the cobbled and honey coloured streets of Santilliana del Mar, which is as quaint as before.

The Parador Santilliana is luxurious and very beautiful and I'm waiting in the front courtyard with my backpack as Dad and Linda walk in. Wonderful and miraculous to meet here in such a beautiful place.

The carpark is full of posh GB cars - so this is where the Brits are!

So after settling in and marvelling at the soft towels, crisp sheets and our respective balconies, we venture out to find lunch. The Menu del Dia is very good at the Restaurant de Villa and comes with a good bottle of white Rioja. Then we wander round the town and decide we need a siesta. Walking the Camino is not a holiday, but this certainly is!

At 6pm it's time to visit the wonderful church of St Juliana again, with its wonderful Romanesque cloisters. The sidra tasting was less of a success- I think it must be an acquired taste and I have. A little tapas for supper and then it's time to test out the free toiletries and the cotton sheets. No need for the bed bug sheet here!

DAY 44. 20 JUNE 2016. GIJÒN HOLIDAY.

June 23, 2016

A lovely quiet night with a slow start. I ring Orange at 9am and they tell me there's no irregular activity on my account. They have an English language Customer Care number so I can have a proper conversation rather than double guessing, so that's a relief too.

Yesterday I realised I had left my gaiters at the other albergue, so I have a long walk along the sand in the sunshine to retrieve them. I know my way now! They were still on the drying rack in the garden.

Trip Advisor and Google say I'm 0.5 km away from the Botanical Gardens, which turns out to be a 4km error, so after wandering up and down the road trying to find them, I have a coffee to recover and jump on the bus. It's closed when I get there because... it's Monday.

So back on the bus into town to try and buy boot waterproofing and another pair of running socks; much better than Marino wool liners because they are elasticated to fit left and right feet and don't wrinkle inside the outer socks. Mission accomplished. Sports wear seems a lot cheaper here. They cost me £4.50 instead of £17.00! My feet will decide.

I pass the Apple dealer and get further reassurance about my phone and then find the bus station to buy a ticket for tomorrow. People are so patient with my less than basic Spanish.

Gijón is a big city. Most of the modern part is ugly tile-clad blocks of flats with shops at street level, but it's vibrant. Still very few chain stores; plenty of individual classy boutiques, haberdashers, fabric, baby wear and shoe shops, as well as hundreds of small bars. I come across the market and wander through admiring the jamon, cheeses and fresh fruit and vegetables and then have a tortilla and beer at 2.30pm; there's a poster for a bull fight on the wall in the bar.

I finally get back to my room and set out for the beach at 4pm. It's gone! The tide has come in, so I sit and listen to a guitarist play flamenco in the sun and watch the vast selection of dogs and their owners stroll by. It's strange to have stopped here for three nights; I feel I have caught up with myself and I'm excited to see my father and Linda tomorrow.

Now I'm sitting in the evening sun in a square with lots of chattering Spaniards, drinking a glass of white wine and pinchos (bar snack) which are free and left on the bar to nibble. Mussels and ham on small rounds of bread. No pilgrims in sight...I'm in another world.

I wonder around to find supper and order a salad; huge. The locals drink vast amounts of sidra. You usually have to buy 750cl bottles and it's poured in small amounts into straight-sided tumblers from about 2 foot and then gulped immediately - no sipping.

DAY 43. 19 JUNE 2016. OVIEDO HOLIDAY.

June 20, 2016

A visit to Oviedo cathedral was obligatory for medieval pilgrims

Up and out fairy early. It's a sunny day. The stag-party were out on the town all night so it was a peaceful night after all. It's an hour's walk into the Old Town along the beach, where I book into my student residence accommodation. It's very nice for €15 and includes breakfast and laundry. I have my own single room with shower too. A good find!

It's next to the ruined Roman wall in the old part of town.

Then off to find the bus station to see Oviedo. It's very strange to be travelling so fast. I realise that walking gives a very fine-textured view of the fabric of the world. I can see individual leaves and cracks in the paving stones. The detail on the manhole covers or the unimaginable complexity of the silhouette of the mountains on the horizon. I can stop at any time to relate to it. Potential ugliness is mitigated, or perhaps I'm distracted, by the fineness of other details. A patch of buttercups, birdsong or a darting lizard.

Now I'm whizzing along in a blur and I feel a sudden disconnect; the slowness and embodiment of walking is important. It allows time for the world to offer its consolation and our bodies a way to reciprocate. I have a feeling that speed is one of the disorientating aspects of modern life. A friend sends her soul ahead of her prior to travelling long distances by plane; now I understand.

So I arrive at Oviedo bus station and walk through the rather grim new town to its historic core. The cathedral is large, ornate Gothic and holds lots of iconography of the Virgin in her various manifestations. The Asturian 'Señora de Covadonga' is the local apparition of the Virgin Mary. Her ancient shrine is perched over a huge waterfall up in the Picos and I suspect that she is a pre-Christian water goddess that the Church took under its wing. She wears a distinctive triangular robe and stands on the heads of three little girls? holds a rose in one hand and a crowned Child in the other.

There is Mass in progress in a side chapel and I squeeze in at the back. The priest has a lovely singing voice and chants some of the liturgy. The reredos glows gold, Our Lady of Covadongo looks passively on and the priest sings descant to the congregation - no instruments. Unremarkably beautiful.

When the service finishes the candles are extinguished, the rood screen is closed and locked and the light turned out. We leave.

I wander around for a while and pop into one of the myriads of tourist shops and buy my first souvenir. A tiny painted plastic Señora de Cavadonga; she's about 60mm high. It's an interesting image because the Child is looking not at us as is usual, or at Mary but sideways at the rose. The three little heads underneath are also intriguing.

At the tourist office they tell me that the A2 bus will take me to a nice Romanesque church outside the city or I can walk in 30 minutes so off I go to catch the bus. I'm on it for 3 minutes when I spot a troupe of Asturian bagpipe players and dancers in traditional dress.

I'm off the bus in a flash. After yesterday's visit to the bagpipe museum it's great to see the real thing in action and dancers with tambourines and castanets. The bass drum player is a dark rotund man, like a Tolkien dwarf about 4 foot tall. It's very moving for some reason.

This isn't remotely Flamenco. More like a sedate Scottish Country Dancing.

Then I decide to get back on the bus to visit the Romanesque churches, but discover the next bus is in 33 minutes. I should have waited but tried to walk. The map was hopelessly out of scale and after 40 minutes uphill slog I realised I was going to miss the 1pm deadline to visit the interior. Since I've seen hundreds of Romanesque churches from the OUTSIDE this trip, I decided to come back next year, turned round and had some lunch instead. Very nice dried beef and then polpo (octopus is a regional speciality). Lunch is the main meal for the Spaniards- they do small sugary breakfasts and eat supper at 8-9pm.

The region is famous for octopus and I had to try some. Very tender.

The restaurant/bar is slowly filling up with good friends. This must be a Sunday ritual. The women are dressed-up and greet each other with kisses; everyone is tucking into something delicious!

I've walked about 12 miles today - I seem to do as many miles on my days off as I do walking between albergues. The difference is that I don't carry my 8kg pack and that's a big difference.

So I head back into the centre of Ovieto and discover a monumental 'space ship' of a building by the Spanish engineer Calatrava (who designed the curved bridge in Bilbao and Avignon station). It says on the map that it's the 'Palacio de Congresos Princesa Letizia.' Sounds and looks like something out of Star Wars, but it is an amazing statement. It must have cost a lot of money.

On my way back from the station I'm approached by a dodgy looking man who I think may have hacked my iphone. Sadly there's nothing I can do about it on Sunday evening, but I need to call Orange tomorrow. Yikes.

Todo derecho no es una opción — Todo derecho no es una opción

A huge bowl of delicious sea-food soup with crab legs and clams for supper with real bakery bread and a glass of white wine, followed by tea with cold milk - not quite the same as a homemade brew but almost.

I stroll back through the busy streets bustling with strolling and dining Spaniards to my student residence where my clean washing awaits hanging on my door. Ah.

One of the Soaring gold reredos in the Cathedral.

DAY 42. 18 JUNE 2016. GIJÒN HOLIDAY!

June 18, 2016

Pilgrim off piste!

Gijón to Avilés (the next stop) is 25km away and my father and Linda arrive in Santilliana del Mar on 21 June, so I've decided to stop walking West and have a few days holiday before meet up with them. It's strange to unhook myself from the Camino; like choosing to turn off a powerful magnet which has continually drawn me for 40 days. So today I'm a tourist and not a pilgrim. The difference is that I am stopping here for the sake of it and not just passing through.

It's a noisy night and people start leaving at 6.30am, but I have a lie in and manage to miss breakfast. Nothing opens here until 10am so I walk into town to explore the Old Town which is on a peninsular between two long sandy beaches; the surfers are out already though.

I've decided to stay where I am tonight, but find a student albergue serving breakfast in the Old Town, not far from the bus station. The church of San Pedro was built in the 1950s on the peninsula and is miraculously open! It's full of nice artworks, including a series of striking mosaics covering a curved ambulatory chapel. I spend some time there.

Then I walk to the fort on the headland to visit a vast concrete sculpture by Chillida (1990). As you walk inside its volume the sound of the sea below suddenly gets reflected off the concrete in an eerie mix of waves and wind; it creates its own sound-piece. Wonderful.

Then I visited the remains of the Roman Baths which are underground near the church. They had a photo of the thermal baths in Bath and I felt quite homesick!

Then off to find a bank and a sidra and pinchos for a snack. It's served in plain glasses and poured from a great height, because it's not naturally fizzy. I get a good photo at last.

It's a 40 minute walk to the Museu del Pueblu d'Asturies. Hardly anyone's there but it's a fascinating account of the Asturian culture and houses a museum of bagpipes.

There is a wonderful large projection of a series of 3D black and white photographs recording life in the Province between 1907-1935. I find it quite moving, as old photos suddenly leap into life; cattle markets, poor peasant families in clogs, travellers crossing rickety wooden bridges and early mountaineers in the Picos. I even get to go inside several granaries and see an old cider press. It must have been very poor prior to industrialisation; the traditional houses had no chimneys.

Then back to the albergue which is also a restaurant for a late lunch of mixed salad and BBQed pork ribs followed by a siesta. Looks like it's just me in the dorm tonight- that'll be gloriously peaceful!

Ahh. I wrote too soon. A Spanish stag-night party have moved into the dorm next door - complete with groom in spoof matador suit. Oh dear...

DAY 41. 17 JUNE 2016. AMANDI TO GIJON.

June 17, 2016

I woke up with a start at 6.55am as most of the dorm was up and packed. The 'surround-sound' snoring died down and I'd slept soundly, apart from when the cat landed on my feet- it's probably locked in at night to keep an eye on things.

I'm always annoyed at my slow progress in the morning. However fast I try to pack, I'm always one of the last to leave. I jammed one of the zips on my pack today trying to go too fast.

After lots of hugs and photos I'm off with the Red Hunchback in the wake of the Canadians, but after a few minutes I don't see them again. I seem to be in the wake of two Frenchmen who save me from whizzing off to Oviedo when the route splits. Just two yellow arrows painted on the road!

The yellow arrows come in all shapes and sizes

It pours with rain all day and takes 2 hours of solid uphill walking to get up and over the mountain. Mainly on roads, but also on tracks running with water and deep mud in parts. Despite all that, it's a good hearty walk and it occurs to me that skin and hair are wonderfully waterproof; so after an hour of walking uphill in my poncho which becomes too hot, I resort to the tee-shirt, single pole and umbrella technique. Which is great until the wind picks up.

There are a couple of small bars enroute that provide some warm, dry comfort but it takes about four hours walking to reach the outskirts of Gijon, which is a big University city.

Although I had been rather dreading the walk today it was fine in reality; all that is required is plenty of time and the ability to put one foot in front of the other. I took plenty of rests to admire the clouds drifting up the valleys.

The temptation is to jump on the bus to miss out unpleasant bits of a journey (many do), but I enjoy the suburbs and periphery development. They give you a glimpse into ordinary urban Spanish life.

Spain seems to be a very well run country. It feels well cared for and the new houses are generally large and spacious compared to ours. No high-density rabbit hutches here. I suspect they have managed to avoid the strangle-hold of a few house-building companies that dictate the UK housing supply and market. In fact, it feels altogether less corporate; there are still lots of local bakeries who deliver bread on a daily basis. People hang special bread-bags on their front doors. No Starbucks or Cafe Neros here either.

So after an hour's walk through the suburbs I arrive at the albergue. It's a private and slightly more luxurious with beds, sheets and blankets and dinner and breakfast for 25€. The three Italians I've been following all day arrive at the same time.

Camino life takes quite a lot of patience with fellow pilgrims sometimes; a woman barges into the shower room while I'm having a shower and then complains how small it is! There was a huge empty one just down the corridor. But it was nice and hot and it's good to get my wet clothes off. But the rain continues. This area is called green Spain and the rain falls mainly here and not on the plain!

Supper is served at 8pm. I get the Pilgrims menu which is pretty unappetising. I manage to swap my fried battered chicken for baked vegetables, but I think I'll skip it in future! It's football tonight-Spain versus Turkey. It'll be noisy I expect- whatever the outcome.

I heard that Jo Cox had been murdered via Facebook. What's been unleashed in the UK?

DAY 40. 16 JUNE 2016. VILLAVICIOSA TO AMANDI

June 17, 2016

Well I didn't go far today. I shaved 35 minutes off tomorrow's journey by walking to the village of Amandi just outside Villaviciosa.

After a very good albergue breakfast I said goodbye to Rebecca and ventured out into the rain. Then immediately booked into a coffee shop and kept dry for an hour to write my blog, followed by a supermarket shop to stock up on provisions for tomorrow and then a short walk out of town with my umbrella to the albergue, 'La Ferrieria'

On the way I stopped at the Romanesque church of San Juan de Amandi. It has a superb porch with beaked-heads similar to those I saw at Iffley church in Oxfordshire in April! Now I wonder if a Spanish mason was responsible.

Detail of the porch at San Juan de Amandi

If last night was a customised albergue, tonight is definitely not. I'm staying in an old cowshed with chickens wandering about, a collie-dog, a cat that's caught an ominously large mouse and lots of flies- but it's charming and the hospitalero is generous. Clothes washing and drying is part of the service and three Italian men and I are drinking his red wine at 4.30pm.

Boots and walking-poles are left outside

The rain eventually stopped at 2pm and now I'm sitting in the garden writing. There are Germans, a Canadian mother and daughter and Italian pilgrims here and we're all preparing ourselves for a hard walk in the rain tomorrow. Some will shortly peel off onto the Camino Primativo route via Oviedo but I'm walking to Gijon.

Supper is served at 8pm at a long table with 12 of us. The hospitalero and his Swiss helper eat with us. He explains that he was called to this work (it takes a certain sort of person). He opened the albergue here (with his wife and family) because of the distance and terrain of tomorrow's walk, in September last year. It runs on a donativo (donation) basis and he's had 700 pilgrims pass through so far! Lovely evening.

By 9.45pm I've rolled out the bed-bug sheet and sleeping bag. There are two elderly Italian men sleeping literally next to me; it's going to be a noisy and somewhat intimate night.

DAY 39. 15 JUNE 2016. COLUNGA TO VILLAVICIOSA

June 16, 2016

Every day I start out wondering if there will be any new things to photograph. Or just more beautiful ocean, big mountains and curly-horned cows with bells...? But of course there are! Today my first photograph is of a row of sidra (cider) barrels- these are quite small ones; the large ones are about 2m diameter. Esturias is the cider area and the town of Villaviciosa is the cider capital.

Agriculture along the Camino is traditional; small herds of beef cows with plenty of free-range bulls!, scattered apple orchards, flowery hay meadows and allotment sized vegetable gardens. It's a lovely change to the intensive mono-culture and manicured landscape across most of the UK.

Rebecca and I set out from Colunga in gaiters; it's going to be a wet day. The 'Red Hunchback' (poncho) had another outing and I've discovered a popper which lifts it up to knee level and creates more ventilation while keeping dry. Some pilgrims ahead are walking with umbrellas.

We walk mainly through woods and at La Vega come across an ox-shoeing shed. Rebecca being a farrier knew that oxen can't stand on 3 legs and need to be hoisted off the ground to be shod with cloven shoes!

There are plenty of ups (200m) and downs! We avoid muddy paths by walking on the roads and logging tracks most of the time, but eventually the clouds part and blue skies arrive at midday.

There is an albergue at Sebrayo which we try to book into, but no one is at home, so we carry on following the river estuary to Villaviciosa. On the outskirts we walk beside an enormous cider factory and when we get to the front gate discover there is a tasting-bar and shop!! Hurrah!

The lady tending the shop doesn't have many pilgrims popping-in, so we tasted (drunk) most of a bottle of cider-champagne. This is similar to English cider; refined, sweet and fizzy and just right after a 12 mile hike in the rain. The name of the brand is 'El Gaitero' which means The Piper; the bagpipes are the regional instrument now that we are in or near a Celtic province.

Villaviciosa has a interesting 'Old Town' with a Franciscan college reminiscent of a Spanish Mission and a 12th century church, with a carved portal and a serene and simple interior.

The private albergue here is new and well appointed. Each room has its own shower, hair dryer and WC and every bed has 2 electric plugs (for charging your phone), a little shelf to put your ear-plugs on and an individual light. There are even boot dryers. All very well thought by former pilgrims!

Rebecca is traveling by bus to Oviedo tomorrow, so we go out for a last 'Menu del Dia'. She has a stocky Basque physique and wears browns, greens and navy; I'll miss her practical earthy, groundedness and our conversations. She has kindly shared some of the readings that her family and friends have written in a book for her to travel with: HERE, BODY, HALFWAY and FOOLISHNNESS. The Camino has given me some very special companions along its Way. Thank you.

I am now 349km from Santiago.

DAY 38. 14 JUNE 2016. SAN ESTABAN DE LECES TO COLUNGA

June 16, 2016

A glorious sunny day walking on small tracks beside the sea. We're completely out of food, but luckily there's a tiny shop/cafe in the next village.

The shopkeeper borrowed my hat for the display

We are now in granary country. Wooden structures raised up on tapered stone staddle-stones; the stairs always stop a couple of feet away from the door to stop the rats getting in.

The terrain is the usual up and downs but fairly gentle. The views of the sea keep unfolding as we walk. Breathtaking.

There is no albergue in Colunga so we book into a family-run hotel with a double room for 40€. It's a nice town and our room has views of the mountains until the cloud descends and it rains heavily.

The treat of real sheets and towels and an electric radiator to dry our washing. What more do we need?

The two brothers who run the bar are delightful and enjoy pouring the local cider into our glasses from a great height. It's delicious, almost vinegary and good for the digestion. We drink the whole bottle. A local comes in wearing a pair of tartan bedroom slippers and the traditional wooden clogs.

Apparently they are warm and keep your feet out of the mud

We have a strange picnic supper in our room (sardine and cheese sandwiches) amongst the almost dry washing and go to bed. I don't sleep well; I'm worrying about the EU referendum.

DAY 37. 13 JUNE 2016. NUEVA TO SAN ESTABAN DE LECES

June 13, 2016

Rebecca and I set out without Christine this morning; she texted to say she would see us later due to lack of sleep. We didn't realise it, but we would not see each other again on this Camino! She's chosen to take a bus to see the Asturian mountains and then catch up with her step-sister to walk into Santiago. I'll miss her humour and wisdom.

The Picos are covered with swathes of low cloud in the morning and the path takes us through woods and pastures with sudden views of the distant sea. It's very rural; small stone hamlets, lemon trees with sweet waxy flowers, slopes of bracken, stone walls, cider orchards and a medieval stone bridge.

Stone bridges are a feature along the Camino

Midmorning we arrive at Casa Belén at Cuerres, a private albergue with a chapel we had been heading for the night before. We take off our boots and rest there for a while in front of Rublev's icon and a lit candle. The Hospitalero is German or perhaps Dutch; I'd like to come back here one day. He tends a large vegetable patch and keeps geese. He tells us we are now half-way to Santiago. I haven't look at a map for a while and it dawns on me that this is a seriously long journey

Ribadelsella is an old whaling port set on a large beach and estuary. We stop for a 3 course Menu del Dia here and pack up the left overs for supper! Then over a bridge across the estuary and along a long cliff-lined creek on the other side. This area seems to be famous for dinosaurs and life size reproductions have taken up residence on several suburban roundabouts.

Then we have a hard slog up 100m elevation for an hour. When we reach San Pedro it feels like the roof of the world with the cobalt sea in the distance. It's windswept up here and the albergue at San Estaban de Leces is slightly austere, but we get a warm welcome from the Hospitalera; the dorms are clean, the showers hot and there's a nice garden with geraniums in pots .

I had been obsessing about my washing and how to get it dry most of the day; but I needn't have worried. The wind and the sunny walled garden dried it in no time. Washing of clothes and bodies is a major preoccupation of pilgrims. Travelling light with only one spare set of clothes means that it cannot be put off for long!