5 hrs 16 mins. Benchmark stuff.

We held our collective breath today, firstly to see if we could turn the correct way out of our hotel to the start of the route, always an accomplishment; and secondly, to see if Hugh would be able to run well after his ER moment yesterday. Both were accomplished with some style.

Not an easy day either. Out of necessity we have moved inland and in doing so can't avoid the hills in Northern Spain. On every ridge is cleverly positioned a wind farm, each wonderful contraption placed at a different angle so only a few ever work at the same time. Seems initially logical but ultimately unproductive. Still, a strangely elegant sight.

Less contemplatively, Hugh moves on with a real efficiency. Samia and I stop off to wait for him and before we know it he's overtaken us, eating up the bitumen at a surprising rate. Joining him for the last few miles of the day he is a man at ease; enjoying the differing landscape, its sights and undulations. Just another day perhaps, but always a different one. We all talk of Lisbon and how long ago that seems despite being only two and a half weeks ago. 50 days is a very long time, but we're enjoying the journey.

Tonight we reside in a beautiful guest house on the pilgrims' route proper on the edge of Trabada. This is the best location yet, in a secluded valley and even has its own chapel which we visited. Having home cooked food was a welcome change to seeking an off season restaurant and for the first time required us to raid the emergency fine wine stash.

We are heading up to the coast tomorrow, though unwilling to leave this hospitable place.

Footnote: Parts II and III are missing from the video diary on Day 16, owing to internet problems. They should be up tomorrow unless a waterwheel is generating the electricity again.

Marathon in 4 hrs 48 mins - what is he thinking of?

A friend of mine once complained of having an anus horribilis; 'like the Queen' he said. We all studied our glasses and said 'well, possibly', in awkward tones and ordered another round. Annus is what he meant and my Latin may fail me too but we have certainly had a 'dramatis dies'. I like a drama as much as the next man but not when I'm in it and not on day 16 of what we're hoping is a very long running series.

Hugh had an injury scare today which was thought to be a stress fracture. In a blaze of glory he ran the day in the quickest time for some time in case it was his last for a while before the dreaded walking kicked in. We had a difficult day navigating too. I had opted in planning for smallish roads, some of which apparently didn't exist according to my mapping software and gps which made it somewhat tricky, causing me to utter profanities in a range of European languages at my disposal (English).

Hugh loved the run though. Lots of elevation gain but this was truly remote, rural Spain. Lots of old farmers still ploughing away and no youngsters at all, alarmingly. There was even an old woman carrying an axe and sharp curved long handled instrument. Not reaping, grimly or otherwise, fortunately.

We were beginning to resign ourselves to carbohydrate gels for lunch and then came upon a rustic looking place which served the best Galician seafood and soups and some local wine which one was supposed to mix with lemonade. I didn't, needing my alcohol unencumbered. Such random places are one of the real pleasures of a trip like this.

Once Hugh had quietly finished his marathon and duly stretched we raced to Vilalba to a radiological clinic where he managed to get an X-ray and diagnosis. Fortunately this is not a fracture but inflammation of the tissue surrounding the bone. It's still a significant problem but one that requires management rather than having to stop running altogether. With two thirds of the way to go it is necessary to be circumspect, to put it mildly. Special mention in despatches to the staff who were more than helpful, and moreover to Samia who translated Hugh's concerns and made the process possible. She has also to change the treatment programme but looks forward to using her whole range of skills to get him through this.

Off we hobble tomorrow, still staggering north east but with a collective firm chin. Hugh grins, almost maddeningly, from dawn to dusk but this is what is needed. This is an awfully long challenge.

More videos of Day 16 to follow...

A solid 5 hrs 28 minutes

Thirty per cent done. I've told Hugh even if he stops now, that's better than my Physics O Level grade. Equally 15 in 15 sounds jolly similar to 50 in 50; surely we can get way with it? A steely unwavering stare in response - good lad, that's the attitude we want.

Bit of a nav problem this morning, sling-shotting off a roundabout and heading north to the Spanish coast - speedos and goggles packed admittedly - but we delivered Hugh back to his start point without further mischief and off he trotted.

This was a day of hilly, beautiful countryside with bright runner friendly roads. Almost a Fuzzy Felt scene with all the requisite stick on bits - large Aberdeen Angus cattle, squat cheery peasants, old tractors, green green grass of home, Tom Jones (not really), and fluffy clouds in a spring 20c heat. A rabbit fretfully studying its watch complained of being late but I may have dozed off by then.

The late start called for a slight change in strategy with very brief stops which suited Hugh well. He may stick to this but the pit crew will discuss and work out if a nine second fuel stop and shoe change is really necessary. Good news anyway: a potential shin injury seems to have been averted by the guru Samia and he continues not to be tempted with potentially damaging steep downhill runs.

We are on the Pilgrims Way, now in Betanzos and we feel we are making progress. Hugh still uses his Holy Water every morning given to him by Karyn, his sister in law, and we shall certainly not spurn any divine help we can get along the way.

A chap at our hotel grasped Hugh by the hand this evening, congratulating him on his efforts and wishing him luck. It turned out that Cesar had been 1500m champion of Galicia and run internationally (against Said Ouita) yet couldn't see how Hugh's feat was really possible. Just the stuff we need. The quest is becoming ever more credible now and on this note, please keep the comments coming. They are an essential boost.

Stately progression: Marathon completed in 5 hrs 53 mins.

This has been an average fortnight's holiday. Travelling around Portugal and a sortie into Spain. A bit of distance covered; 366.8 miles. Just on foot and by one chap; that's all.

Today was a bit uppish; now unavoidable on the coastal areas of northern Spain. Hugh professes to like hills and that's a bit of luck. He still chooses to lean into the gradient on the way up and walk down the steepest slopes which is sensible. The amount of struggling cyclists illustrated the steepness and I do believe he overtook a couple.

We arrived in Santiago de Compostella this evening; a beautiful city and destination one of the largest regular pilgrimages in western Europe which began from about 900 AD. Most people weren't considering leaving their dung fires at this time yet they made the trip to Santiago. St James is the fellow to whose remains they came to pay homage and we wouldn't risk thunderbolts by drawing analogies with Hugh yet he's an extraordinary fellow as well, alive and kicking of course. Tomorrow we begin our own version of the Camino Way, heading on a slightly more northern, staggered route across to San Sebastian. This will be tough. I badly want to get on the road to share the mental and physical burden of this but must wait until the injury heals. Hugh continues on his own but always with us harrying and nagging him like a couple of sheepdogs.

Samia continues to be a talisman really - anything she applies to Hugh seems to work but this is a very slow game of chess (the sort where the opponent sighs, sits back and makes you wait, twiddling everything) and he needs to take it slowly. He's reminded of this every time we see him unicycling, fire-eating or other silliness. On the whole he behaves.

Weather's still great - expected to break tomorrow but we'll see. Santiago is particularly attractive in the wet apparently, the quartzite in the granite giving it a certain sheen, with water spouting from the gargoyles liberally scattered amongst the old city. All very well but heard a similar thing about Aberdeen on a 'holiday' there. We'll stick with the sun, thanks awfully.

Unlucky for whom? Marathon in 5 hrs 10 mins

Another seamless performance. Samia and I have little to do at times apart from looking at his footfall, speaking to each other softly like a couple of snooker commentators. We'd like to get a life but the boy doesn't let us.

It's a funny thing - I have now looked at lots of variations on the planned routes including the most exciting coastal roads but one thing has become apparent - he needs consistency to tick off the miles. This is paramount, to him and us. Identifiable roads, the equivalent of A/B roads in the UK are what I've planned on the route and they seem to work well. A nasty junction occasionally means we'll put him in the car then jettison him out a mile down the road when the difficulty has passed (time in car doesn't count on his run time, should you ask..) but we have to keep him moving and safely. In this sense there's a surprising amount to do and rightly so. There is a balance of confidence and fragility to each day - something could go wrong but it really shouldn't and won't as far as we're concerned.

Today we had a fascinating progression from Baiona to Pontevedra, through the dramatic port of Vigo with its vast vessels and fuel platforms and Hugh ran past this only seeing what he can allow himself in order not to lose the rhythm. I envy him this - my Achilles is still tender and I can't skip along yet with him. The feeling of freedom is clear in his eyes; covering miles with certainty and each day is a journey achieved.

We could become blase but we and you shouldn't - a marathon is still that - a full 26.2 miles and no easier on undulating roads and in an unusual environment. Hugh is looking weathered but competent; a product of almost a fortnight's effort and grit. Samia tweaks with his various twinges like a concerned F1 mechanic. Tonight we rest at the attractive town of Pontevedra, a good steak inside us and for me the familiar taste of a decent Ribera del Duero. Could be worse.