Day Twenty-three 06.04.05 It was nice to wake up today and realise that no driving or navigating needed to be done. More fruit salad for breakfast. The content of which was Pear, Banana and Apple. Not as exciting as we have got used to but it's a case of using up leftovers. We took a walk into Sanillana to explore. The guide books say that of all the villages in Spain this is probably the best preserved . In fact the whole village has been declared a national monument. Firstly we visited the Diocesan Museum which was full of religious artefacts, one room contained maybe fifty crucifixes, to see them hung up all together was a bit strange. We both felt a little uncomfortable in this room. Moving on we asked the steward where the Altamira Cave was and we were reliably informed that it was up the road and yes it was walking distance. In fact it was a two and a half mile walk up hill. On arrival we realised that the original cave was closed to the public five years ago and what we were about to see was a faithful reproduction suitable for all visitors and on a scale twice the size. It also means that the original caves now have a huge visitor centre, coach park etc etc within metres of them. The caves are so famous as they contain depictions of horses, bison, deer, wild boars in red ochre and black tones. They are believed to have been drawn 18000 years ago and are 'astonishing because of the vigour and dynamism with which they were executed.' We were both impressed by how well they had recreated the cave environment and how realistic it was. The only downside was the guide only spoke in Spanish and we didn't have time to read the English interpretation. Fortunately and American girl came to our rescue and translated for us brilliantly meaning that the whole thing made a lot more sense. She also told us about other caves in the area that it is still possible to view the original drawings. Perhaps we will make a detour to have a look. We walked back to the village, this time all downhill, and continued our tour. It was lovely to stroll about all the old buildings that seemed unchanged for centuries. We came across the Museum of Torture and couldn't resist a look. Inside was a coach load of Spanish teenagers and we began to feel like it was us being tortured, However, have developed a slightly longer attention span and before long we had the museum to ourselves. It was quite grotesque viewing the various instruments of torture gathered from throughout Europe. It was a bit like The London Dungeons without all the unnecessary un life like wax models with bad wigs. The translation on the interpretation boards was excellent and the author obviously had a sense of humour