Gualchos: Semana Santa
Opening my bedroom window, I come face to face with the figure of the Virgin held aloft by the penitent supporters
Miguel, costa wine and The Contraviesa
We arrive in the village to the ominous leaden clonk of the church belling announcing a recent death
Gualchos: Back on the track
So I’ve started running again after my initial nervousness: The calf injury made me cautious eventually turning inertia into a habit.
Gualchos: Silent waters!
It has rained all night. The house, which is old, cowers beneath the battering downpour
