The fossils of Lyme Regis in the south of England have been famous for over 2oo years. Along the dramatic Jurassic coast, you can wander (watch the tide!) and pick up the coiled ammonites, belemites and vertebrae from prehistoric creatures. After every storm the unstable cliffs reveal more treasures from a history written in fossilised form.

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Ceridwyn Parr writes:
Nothing could have prepared me for the for the sight of gravestone after gravestone, after gravestone. they belong to boys aged 16,17,18 and for men aged 29, 35, 40, who landed here from 25 April 1915,onwards and mostly died here over the next few months. The marked stones lie tilted to the sun above the cool blue Aegean sea. Nothing can stop the pricking of tears to read this inscription:

1113 Private H J Burton,
died 30 November 1915, aged 18
Only a boy but died as a man for liberty and freedom
His Mum and Dad Read more

Ceridwyn writes: Florence is visual overload! I needed an antidote, and found it on the streets of Oltrano, on the ‘other side’ of the river.

The huge brick workrooms of the Antico Setificio Fiorentino, the ancient Florentine silk factory are just along from the best lunch we ate. Trattoria Sabatini , via Pisana 2/r , is a family run restaurant where the Buccioni family served us with pollo arrosto, patates arrosto, cavolo crude roast chicken, potatoes and coleslaw) and creamy stracchino cheese , and the usual glass of red wine, very cheaply . For once we were the only tourists in amongst local business people and artisans. Read more

Sunshine in the morning let us explore the fabled colours and cleverness of the Cinque Terre. From Manarola we took a walk along Lover’s Lane, or Via dell’Amore- a paved, gentle walk for twenty minutes to the next village, Riomaggiore. Far below the sea promised excellent kayaking and snorkelling on its emerald water, fringing the rocks with clean white foam. The walkway had seats to admire the view, a couple of cafes in the summer and some picnic spots. Apparently it is so crowded in the season that the ticket numbers are limited. Read more

Ceridwyn Writes: There can be few cities in the world as beautiful as Santiago founded on so preposterous a story, so says the Lonely Planet.

The legend of St James was the impetus for the growth of this city since 12th century. Read more

It should have been a short and relatively easy day, but my leg was swollen and painful, so I walked slowly with a strange flat footed gait.

Rosemary had lent me her walking stick which had been useful for threatening dogs and crossing muddy streams, but now came into its own as a support. The quiet woods and shady lanes of the past few days gave way to new towns and building sites, with road works and new tarseal obscuring the Way.

After going up a steep hill on a new road, beyond MillaDoiro, I could see no Way marked, so chose ‘down and north’. Not a good choice as I ended up by the river I wanted to cross into Santiago, but no bridge. So up the hill again, asked for help from two people who gave me contradictory advice, decided to head for the nearest bridge, and limped off.

Later I learned that this spot was the scene of three separate assaults on women travelling alone, only a few weeks ago. Each had hesitated, trying to find the way, and a man had offered to show them – leading to complaints to the police and an arrest. The guide book had been promising the uplifting sight of the Cathedral spires in the distance, but all I could see in the rain was chimney pots aand cranes. Read on

The bright yellow spotted lizard lay on the path, looking like a child’s toy. But it was real, and unexpected. later I saw another one, its gold colour matching exactly the chestnut leaves which fell around me in the woods.

Each time I stopped for a rest there would be a blue butterfly, or the first autumn crocus, or a long tailed magpie to watch. Lovely surprises, and some not so lovely. Read more

Hot water flowed from the spring by the old Roman bridge in Caldas de Reis- a place where kings used to stop and where Thomas a Becket gave his name to a church. I stopped to feel the waters, and lost my bearings. no signs visible, no-one around, as it was siesta. An old man came up over the bridge, called out to me, and pointed his walking stick towards a tiny lane. Again the unasked for kindness, and from a man who must have seen so much sad history in Spain. Read more

Ponte Sampaio to San Antoninio 23 kms.
Today Danielle joined me for a pretty walk through the tiny steep streets and old Roman roads of the villages, through vineyards and small holdings, to the beautiful city of Pontevedra. We called in at our Lady of the Camino sanctuary,the Shrine of the Virgin Peregrina, again full of beautiful flowers. When the churches are open, they look as though as wedding is about to happen.

My afternoon was solo again, and was meant to be an easy walk. Read more

Ceridwyn writes: Each day, I started where I left off, usually by a wayside marker, with a bright yellow scallop shell pointing its rays in the direction i needed to go. The number of km is also on the marker. It was so great to see it drop from 115km t0 99 to 83 and down to 49- over half way. The markers have been erected by the Spanish government and are such a welcome sight. Read more