Let’s talk about the the River Alagón, the major tributary of the Tagus. There is a boat that leaves Ceclavín for the Ramiro’s courts which is, basically, the best-kept secret on this border.

Forget those luxury cruises with all-you-can-eat buffets and men in swimming trunks; this is a haven of tranquillity that glides with great elegance amongst crests of Armorican quartzite.

As the boat approaches the canchos, the geology stops being so charming and gets serious. You come across a natural chasm so imposing that it makes you feel tiny, almost like an ant with poor eyesight. It is that ridge that formed in the Lower Ordovician and which decided that the Alagón simply had to narrow so that it could get through.

If you look closely (and please put your mobile at the bottom of your rucksack), you’ll see hundreds of golden vultures gliding low. And if you look even more closely, you might spot the vulture, that aristocrat of carrion with his unmistakable profile, soaring over a landscape that smells of rockrose and the river.