So one day, the braver of us two took flight - direction north, the mountains of the south....
Arret! Wait for me! I'm coming too!
The wilderness of Extremadura beckoned, with it's craggy rocks waiting for us, the eagles flying with us and the the vultures beginning to gather...
The beauty of the landscape enchanting us and beguiling our senses....
drawing us deaper and deaper into the wilderness and ever closer to the Saltos de Gitanos....
Our one and only encounter with civilisation was in the capital of conquistadores. Challenged to a duel by a pair of segways we left Trujillo triumphant...
But more and more vultures gathered in the sky as we made our way through the Parque de Monfrague...
.... Kevin took on the form of a lizzard....
... while Sylvia begann to act even stranger as usual and was finally transformed into a vulture....
And then they opened in front of us, dos penascales horrendos, los Saltos de Gitanos....
And the only way out of them and the only way to return to our previous form was to continue through the peñascales horrendos and reach the bridge in the river with its precipice that saves....
Reciting the poem by the bridge....
turning left twice and following the sign post to the black depths....
we managed to return to our normal form.
Phew!
Two horrendous crags
below a river roars
above the arch of a bridge
that precipice that saves
what subtle steel tape
on its curved edge.
The white light of the moon
struggling with the dawn;
the moon lost;
we won....
and headed onwards to Plasencia...
Extremeñas / José María Gabriel y Galán
Las represalias de Pablos
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