| Laguna de Grédos. A BIRD’S-EYE VIEW—SHOWS THE AMEÁL AND CUCHILLAR DEL GUETRE. | Looking south across Laguna. HERMANITOS— CASQUERÁZO. |
It was past noon ere the long ride was completed, and we entered the ancient city that boasts bygone glories, splendid temples, and memories of mediæval magnificence, but which is now ... well, Avila. But one feature of Avila demands passing note—its massive walls, withstanding the centuries, full forty feet in height by fifteen feet broad. An hour later the Sûd-express dashed up whistling into the station, to the genuine alarm of my leather-clad mountain-lads, who recoiled in fear from an unwonted sight. They, noticing that the officials of the train also spoke a foreign tongue (French), asked me if such things (i.e. railway trains) were “only for your Excellencies”—meaning for foreigners, vos-otros.
At Paris a reassuring telegram filled me with joy indescribable, but in London and at York further messages intensified anxiety. On August 29 I reached home, and on the evening of September 3 doubts were resolved, and the silver cord was loosed.
The Plaza de Almanzór, with its immediate environment, presents a panorama of mountain-scenery unrivalled, not only in the whole cordillera of Grédos, but probably in all Spain—it may be questioned if the world itself contains a more striking landscape than that known as the “Circo de Grédos.” Briefly put, a vast central amphitheatre of rock—really four-square (though known as the “Circo”) in the depths of which nestle an alpine lake—is enclosed by stupendous rock-walls and precipices of granite; some of these smooth and sheer, others rugged and disintegrated or broken up by snow-filled gorges of intricacies that defy the power of pen to describe. Three of these vast mural ramparts stand almost rectangular, the fourth shoots out obliquely, traversing the abysmal enclave and all but closing the fourth side of its quadrilateral. The rough sketch-map at p. 141 shows the configuration better than written words, while the photos convey, so far as such can, some idea of the scenery.[35]
The actual peak of Almanzór which dominates the whole “Circo,” as viewed from the north, culminates in a flattened cone, the summit being split into two huge rock-needles or pinnacles separated by an unfathomed fissure between. Only one of these needles—and that the lower—has yet been scaled. The loftier of the pair, though it only surpasses its fellow by a few yards in height, is so sheer, its surface so devoid of crevice or hand-hold, that the ascent (without ropes and other appliances) appears quite impracticable.
Will the reader seat himself in imagination at the spot marked (*) on the map. Surveying the scene from this point, the whole opposite horizon is filled by the Altos de Morezón—a jagged and turreted escarpment pierces the sky, while its frowning walls dip down, down in endless precipices to the inky-black waters of the Laguna far below.
Towards the left one’s view is interrupted by an extraordinary mass of upstanding granite, disintegrated and blackened by the ages, known as the Ameál de Pablo—in itself a virgin mountain, as yet untrodden by human foot. This colossus, glittering with snow-striæ, surmounts the oblique ridge aforesaid, that of the Cuchillar del Guetre, which traverses two-thirds of the “Circo,” leaving but a narrow gap between its own extremity and the opposite heights of Morezón.
Continuing towards the right, there rises to yet loftier altitudes the black contour of the Risco del Fraile, beloved of ibex; while adjacent on the north-west, but on slightly lower level, uprear from the snow-flecked skyline three more unscaled masses—rectangular monoliths like giant landmarks. This trio is distinguished as Los Hermanitos de Grédos, their abruptness of outline almost appalling as set off by an azure background.