5 hours from seville, the cars began to slip on the icy track.
headtorches on, a couple of hours walk up the icy valley, we camped by a ruin.
a muted gathering, everyone got into their sleeping bag early
it was too cold to look up at the cold stars
instead i huddled close to the smokey fire
normally the smoke of a fire is to be avoided
but that night the smoke was equated with warm air
and i smoked myself for quite a while
before getting into my sleeping bag.
the next day we climbed high to the top of the valley
covered in snow
and descended to a place where two huge rocks leaned together
looking like they might give protection.
we collected wood.
andrea and i played chess.
after dark we cooked up a large wok of bubbling beans.
next day, with many things wet from the rain, we found a large cave
whose floor was covered in goat droppings, but it was commodiously large.
we decided to stay and dry things.
andrea had prepared a coffee
and when he went to sit down
- Crack! the hollow sound resounded throughout the cave.
andrea became small and crouched, holding his head
we looked on worried
eventually he looked up and said: you don't make a sound when it really hurts.
the wound was two centimetres long
and we decided to all go back to the car.
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