We climbed steep Santomé to castro. Hardly anyone dares the old Roman road. We crossed the forest of oak, madrone, pine and laurel, which is hidden even say a cova dos Mouros . At 81 years, Adela tells of the legends he met through his grandmother - "says that the berries were beautiful" ...
During the Civil War, in that same cave that connects the mountain with the edge of the canvas, hid the defeated to prevent reprisals by the victors. Damn fratricidal conflict.
We peered into the ravine from which you can hear the sound of swirling Xigante pots. Stubborn rocks and rough waters are carving the rugged landscape as time has stopped in the branches of trees. How difficult it is to live today within the walls knocked down and abandoned roads this splendid environment, only few kilometers from the capital of Ourense.
During the Civil War, in that same cave that connects the mountain with the edge of the canvas, hid the defeated to prevent reprisals by the victors. Damn fratricidal conflict.
We peered into the ravine from which you can hear the sound of swirling Xigante pots. Stubborn rocks and rough waters are carving the rugged landscape as time has stopped in the branches of trees. How difficult it is to live today within the walls knocked down and abandoned roads this splendid environment, only few kilometers from the capital of Ourense.
In Mende, near the spa abandoned, bushes and vines have gradually taken over the old road leading to the springs. The water smells of sulfur and peppermint countryside. Javier, the oldest of all, remember how old the patients came to wash their sores and wounds in those thermal waters.
An abandoned vineyards flanking us. Murmur puddles. In a rotten beam, a ball of moss and leaves the nest reveals a CARRIZA . Suddenly, the rain has stopped and then the light in the morning of Holy Thursday reopened between the leafy corridor that we have gone through ...
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