08.03.12 The car stopped and I glanced around my surroundings, small rolling hills and a monastery perched in the distance. Crossing the valley was a line of mental pylons.
Red rocks crunched and moved under my boots, concentrating carefully, keeping my balance I slowly made my way up the path. Egnacio indicated this was the spot he found me, pointing to the bottom first pylon we came to.
Learn more about the Festival I was attending at the time of my accident here:
It must have been surreal trying to envisage the scene. I hope you learned something even if the memories have still not returned.
John