The day isn't over. We have a steep climb to arrive at surely what must be the highest cemetery towering above the village below. It's a stone walled enclosure crammed full of higgledy piggledy graves which we carefully negotiate.
We ascend as the sun is setting casting a pink glow over the scene. The graves are chock full of figurines, flowers, plaques and pots. Some of the older ones are marked with ornate iron crosses silhouetted against the early evening skies.
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