The Santa Klara Albergue stood proudly on top of the hill, isolated from the other farmhouses. I sat in the Albergue's garden, diary and camera in hand, with the Atlantic Ocean unfolded in front of me. This time, she wears a darker, more intense mood, displaying another side of her temperment. The resident billy goat bleats with passion in the background, as if alerting me to the captivating scene of the sun setting into the Atlantic. "Mehhhhh, don't turn your head... mehhhh, don't miss it.... MEHHHHH" - Billy seems to say... The sun was hidden behind the big fluff that covered the entire sky, but its determination to irradiate through was obvious. The light breeze that was blowing sent the Atlantic rippling, and ruffling along were the glisten of the sunrays which had managed to break
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