We were pushing our bikes up the steep hill out of town by 9:30 am. Following the walkers' route to begin, on a shady lane with villages every one or two kilometres. Then it was on the N634 'asfalto' for the rest of the day, with cool lemonade and a vegetable tortilla in the town of Laredo. The gave us the energy to reach Gama.

We reached Gama at around 3:30 and found the albergue - a small detached building near a bar (from where we retrieved the key) adjacent to the Fevé metre-gauge railway line that runs along the north coast. We were the only guests at the albergue; the last pilgrims were here over a week ago.

The normal hiking stage for the day ended in Laredo but we're trying to make up a bit of time - even if our mileage doesn't indicate that! We're hoping to avoid Santander - our guide suggests a train out of Santander to avoid the traffic, not painting an inviting picture - so we may skirt southward to give the city a miss altogether.

It had been a hot, tiring and somewhat uninspiring day. A local came round in the evening to collect our fees, then we snacked for dinner and climbed into our bunks for a warm night.

A hot, restless night followed by a breakfast of excessively salted tortilla at the bar where we returned the albergue key. Watching the rain pour down on our cycles. The rain eased off at 11:00 and we got going. Although on a national highway, the N634, the traffic was not too bad as most used the nearby autovia.

The albergue in El Astillera was tricky to find but friendly locals steered us in the right direction. The door was locked so Bev phoned the numbers above the door. The last number answered but, after a stream of unintelligible Spanish, the man hung up. Our guide mentioned that the key was kept down the hill at the police station and we rode down the hill where we learned that the albergue was closed; the police were wonderfully helpful, suggested the next albergue in Sta Cruz de Bezana and phoned to make sure there was room for us.

Then the police gave us directions for the route — one, two, three, four roundabouts, then turn left at the one with a ship's mast, and ask for further directions at Revilla — but still we got confused when we didn't see a ship's mast. A pharmacy, always a good bet for an English speaker, helped us and, lo and behold, a ship's mast! We were fine until Escobedo (?); the rain had returned, making it difficult to look at our directons through rain-streaked sunglasses in the poor light. A man took us into his restaurant for juice and more detailed directions and called his friend's albergue in Bezano. It was 6:30 pm before we set off again into the drizzle and were wet, tired and hungry before we reached the albergue but we were well-received and well fed - tortilla (I should perhaps explain: in Spain, tortilla refers to a thick potato omelette), a large ensalada mixta, warmed cheese rounds dotted with jam and a shot of schnapps. A lively conversation ensued in Spanish, French, German and English between the fifteen or so peregrinos around the table.