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.
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.
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.