Finding my family roots in Spain

The sun had sunk behind the mountains that surrounded the harbour of Cudillero, a small fishing town in Asturias. My hair was still wet from the sea. Two old men were sitting next to us, chatting loudly in Spanish while my husband, father, and I ate bonito pate.

‘It’s full of English and Germans with their caravans,’ said the man with a baby-blue jumper slung over his shoulders.