#sunkenchurch

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An old sunken church, the abandoned St Nicholas sinks during the summer period and you can't reach it... but I was lucky enough to see the inside at this time of year👌 〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️ #onherbike #roundtheworld #solorider #roadtrip #motoryclediaries #overland #adventure #travelsolo #travelblog #motorcycletouring #adventuretravel #ridetheworld #followyourdreams #travelblogger #travelphotography #sunkenchurch #macedonia
Sunday afternoon checking out the sunken Village of Derwent which has reappeared from the depths of the reservoir 🧐🤓 #derwent #sunkenchurch #manorhouse #reservoirs #loversseat
I finished my #job in #berlin in the #afternoon then I started my #roadtrip to #italy - after a #stop in #munich I reached almost 4am my #sleepingplace a parking beside the #sunkenchurch in #graun #südtirol #southtyrol - it was a #cozynight in my #bus #mercedes #viano #buongiorno #italia #roadtrippin
#Kirchturm im #Reschensee Der viel fotografierte #Turm ist der letzte Zeuge von Alt-Graun. Um elektrische Energie zu gewinnen, hat man 1949 einen #Staudamm aufgeschüttet, die alten Bauernhäuser und die Kirche bis auf den Kirchturm gesprengt und die fruchtbaren Wiesen und Felder überflutet. #südtirol #vinschgau #urlaub #reschen #holiday #see #lake #graun #steeple #tower #churchtower #urlaub #urlaub2018 #wahrzeichen #reschenpass #stausee #artificiallake #southtirol #reschenseekirche #sunkenchurch #versunkenerturm #lakereschen #passoresia #kirchturmimsee
Changement aujourd'hui: aquarelle #sunkenchurch #watercolor #sketchbook
One of the highlights of our vacation was our day tour of the “Wild Atlantic Way” and trip to Inis Oírr, one of the Aran Islands! The Aran Islands are Gaeltachtaí—areas where Gaelic is the native and primary language. As such, we opted to tour Inis Oírr by horse and buggy to get as close to the land and its lovely people as possible! Words and pictures do not do this place justice. ______________________________________ #ThePharrSide #ThePharrSideOfColorado #PharrAway #InisOírr #Inisheer #AranIsland #AranIslands #OBrien #PlasseyShipwreck #StCavansChurch #CelticCross #SunkenChurch #DryStone #DryStoneWall #DryStoneWalls #ThatchRoof #ThatchedRoof #Dublin #DublinIreland #Ireland #EmeraldIsle #APharrSongOfIceAndFireAndEmerald #Ireland #Iceland #Spain #DublinIreland #GalwayIreland #ReykjavikIceland #MadridSpain #BarcelonaSpain @ingotheranchhand @thewildatlanticway
@Regran_ed from @lea_rieck - Have you ever seen a church in the middle of a lake? And I am not talking about a church on an island in the middle of the lake! Seeing the tower sticking out of the water was a real Atlantis-feeling for me. But the history of Lake Reschen in Italy close to the border of Switzerland and Austria is not a very good one: 150 families lost their homes when the lake was damed up in 1950. The churchtower in the lake still reminds of the area that was flooded. #atlantis #reschensee #reschenpass #italy #churchtower #sunkencity #sunkenchurch #overlanding #overlanders #womenadvriders #memories #goodmemories #adventureisattitude #aroundtheworld #whatsyour20 #fortheride #girlswhotravel #travelgram #travelette #advrider #advlife #touratech #madeforadventure #lifeisgood #goplaces #wildlife #girlswhotravel #dainese #daineseofficial
Have you ever seen a church in the middle of a lake? And I am not talking about a church on an island in the middle of the lake! Seeing the tower sticking out of the water was a real Atlantis-feeling for me. But the history of Lake Reschen in Italy close to the border of Switzerland and Austria is not a very good one: 150 families lost their homes when the lake was damed up in 1950. The churchtower in the lake still reminds of the area that was flooded. #atlantis #reschensee #reschenpass #italy #churchtower #sunkencity #sunkenchurch #overlanding #overlanders #womenadvriders #memories #goodmemories #adventureisattitude #aroundtheworld #whatsyour20 #fortheride #girlswhotravel #travelgram #travelette #advrider #advlife #touratech #madeforadventure #lifeisgood #goplaces #wildlife #girlswhotravel #dainese #daineseofficial
The Church of St. Nicholas. Built in 1856 and flooded a century later to bring water to the surrounding communities. Today it sits submerged in Mavrovo Lake, abandoned but not yet forgotten. . .. ... .... ..... .... ... .. . #macedonia #mavrovo #mavrovolake #abandonedplaces #abandoned #church #sunkenchurch #travel #viajar #motorhomelife #vanlife #roadtrip #roadtriptv #europe #balkans
I greet you from Sveti Nikola, the sunken church in Mavrovo, Macedonia. Have to come back in the winter for higher levels and some fog. ❤️ I am packing my bags today and wrapping up. My head is spinning after talking about the referendum and it‘s twists and turns for a week straight. Now I need to put my thoughts in order and get a bit of rest. #svetinikola #mavrovo #mavrovonationalpark #macedonia #careauxtravels #sunkenchurch #touristing #vsco #vscotravel #travelphotography
Discovering the Aran islands and Cliffs of Moher. In the first pic the captain said "brace youselves for a big swell!" so we held on tight. 10 seconds later it turned into a great photo op with the crashing wave 🍀 #aranislands #galwaybay #sunkenchurch #galway #ireland #westernireland
Encounter from Light painting Heavy drinking exhibition #4140photography #lightpainting #lightpaintingphotography #photography #exhibition #sunkenchurch
On our bike tour to Verona passing Lake Reschen with the famous steeple of a submerged church 💒 🚲
St. Caomhan’s church, also known as the sunken church on the Aran Island of Inis Oirr, Ireland on Thursday, September 13th, 2018. The 10th century church has sunken into the sandy ground over the centuries and is home to the resting place of the patron saint of Inis Oirr. #inisheer #inisoirr #ireland #republicofireland #10thcentury #sunkenchurch #stcaomhan #stcavanschurch #aranislands #travel #historycomesalive #history #nikon
Some scenery pictures from a trip to visit my daughter in 2015. #rutlandwater #sunkenchurch #landscape
I'm in the pic too! 🤔 #sunkenchurch #amazingsky 🌤
🔱 Hoyos del Tozo, Province of Burgos, Castilla y León, Spain ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Ⓒ Peter Callas 2018. All Rights Reserved. This image may not be used, reposted or reproduced in any way without prior written permission from the copyright holder. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ This tiny riparian hamlet hidden deep in the Rudrón Valley has a name which seems to translate as “holes” of Tozo. Its streets are drawn parallel to the River Rudrón and the whole village is encased by steep rocky outcrops. It had less than 20 inhabitants in 2017, down from 24 in 2008, but the only cafe seemed to be open miraculously on our arrival, no doubt alerted by the sound of our solitary car engine to this end-of-the-road locale. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ It has a church whose portal is half sunken in alluvial soil, perhaps from a cataclysmic flooding. A crude carving of a “merm” of indeterminate gender attests to its riverine - rather than marine - origin, and although the church seems to emerge from the steep rocky cliffs behind it, as so many cave churches do in Spain and Italy, a quick walk behind it leads to the discovery that it has mostly been rendered a few centimetres free of the rocky chaos. Protruding from the roof are a series of almost cursory corbels which look like a group of faded postcards from elsewhere grander. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ In this part of the Rudrón the rocks of its gullies and small gorges have been worn away over millions of years to produce a convoluted and concealed landscape. In places the river actually runs underground. It seems like a good place to disappear, and I guess that may well be the hamlet’s origin; perhaps even soon after the reconquest of this area or at some other time in the Iberian peninsula’s “serpentine” history. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ At some stage this hidden stretch of the Rudrón was invaded by commercial fishers seeking freshwater crayfish which proliferated here in an ideal habitat. The crustaceans got a high price in far away municipal markets, and were so greedily sought after that they seem to have disappeared altogether. Or perhaps they have become experts at camouflage. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
🔱 Hoyos del Tozo, Province of Burgos, Castilla y León, Spain ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Ⓒ Peter Callas 2018. All Rights Reserved. This image may not be used, reposted or reproduced in any way without prior written permission from the copyright holder. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ This tiny riparian hamlet hidden deep in the Rudrón Valley has a name which seems to translate as “holes” of Tozo. Its streets are drawn parallel to the River Rudrón and the whole village is encased by steep rocky outcrops. It had less than 20 inhabitants in 2017, down from 24 in 2008, but the only cafe seemed to be open miraculously on our arrival, no doubt alerted by the sound of our solitary car engine to this end-of-the-road locale. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ It has a church whose portal is half sunken in alluvial soil, perhaps from a cataclysmic flooding. A crude carving of a “merm” of indeterminate gender attests to its riverine - rather than marine - origin, and although the church seems to emerge from the steep rocky cliffs behind it, as so many cave churches do in Spain and Italy, a quick walk behind it leads to the discovery that it has mostly been rendered a few centimetres free of the rocky chaos. Protruding from the roof are a series of almost cursory corbels which look like a group of faded postcards from elsewhere grander. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ In this part of the Rudrón the rocks of its gullies and small gorges have been worn away over millions of years to produce a convoluted and concealed landscape. In places the river actually runs underground. It seems like a good place to disappear, and I guess that may well be the hamlet’s origin; perhaps even soon after the reconquest of this area or at some other time in the Iberian peninsula’s “serpentine” history. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ At some stage this hidden stretch of the Rudrón was invaded by commercial fishers seeking freshwater crayfish which proliferated here in an ideal habitat. The crustaceans got a high price in far away municipal markets, and were so greedily sought after that they seem to have disappeared altogether. Or perhaps they have become experts at camouflage. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
🔱 Hoyos del Tozo, Province of Burgos, Castilla y León, Spain ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Ⓒ Peter Callas 2018. All Rights Reserved. This image may not be used, reposted or reproduced in any way without prior written permission from the copyright holder. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ This tiny riparian hamlet hidden deep in the Rudrón Valley has a name which seems to translate as “holes” of Tozo. Its streets are drawn parallel to the River Rudrón and the whole village is encased by steep rocky outcrops. It had less than 20 inhabitants in 2017, down from 24 in 2008, but the only cafe seemed to be open miraculously on our arrival, no doubt alerted by the sound of our solitary car engine to this end-of-the-road locale. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ It has a church whose portal is half sunken in alluvial soil, perhaps from a cataclysmic flooding. A crude carving of a merm of indeterminate gender attests to its riverine - rather than marine - origin, and although the church seems to emerge from the steep rocky cliffs behind it, as so many cave churches do in Spain and Italy, a quick walk behind it leads to the discovery that it has mostly been rendered a few centimetres free of the rocky chaos. Protruding from the roof are a series of almost cursory corbels which look like a group of faded postcards from elsewhere grander. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ In this part of the Rudrón the rocks of its gullies and small gorges have been worn away over millions of years to produce a convoluted and concealed landscape. In places the river actually runs underground. It seems like a good place to disappear, and I guess that may well be the hamlet’s origin; perhaps even soon after the reconquest of this area or at some other time in the Iberian peninsula’s “serpentine” history. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ At some stage this hidden stretch of the Rudrón was invaded by commercial fishers seeking freshwater crayfish which proliferated here in an ideal habitat. The crustaceans got a high price in far away municipal markets, and were so greedily sought after that they seem to have disappeared altogether. Or perhaps they have become experts at camouflage. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
🔱 Hoyos del Tozo, Province of Burgos, Castilla y León, Spain ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Ⓒ Peter Callas 2018. All Rights Reserved. This image may not be used, reposted or reproduced in any way without prior written permission from the copyright holder. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ This tiny riparian hamlet hidden deep in the Rudrón Valley has a name which seems to translate as “holes” of Tozo. Its streets are drawn parallel to the River Rudrón and the whole village is encased by steep rocky outcrops. It had less than 20 inhabitants in 2017, down from 24 in 2008, but the only cafe seemed to be open miraculously on our arrival, no doubt alerted by the sound of our solitary car engine to this end-of-the-road locale. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ It has a church whose portal is half sunken in alluvial soil, perhaps from a cataclysmic flooding. A crude carving of a “merm” of indeterminate gender attests to its riverine - rather than marine - origin, and although the church seems to emerge from the steep rocky cliffs behind it, as so many cave churches do in Spain and Italy, a quick walk behind it leads to the discovery that it has mostly been rendered a few centimetres free of the rocky chaos. Protruding from the roof are a series of almost cursory corbels which look like a group of faded postcards from elsewhere grander. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ In this part of the Rudrón the rocks of its gullies and small gorges have been worn away over millions of years to produce a convoluted and concealed landscape. In places the river actually runs underground. It seems like a good place to disappear, and I guess that may well be the hamlet’s origin; perhaps even soon after the reconquest of this area or at some other time in the Iberian peninsula’s “serpentine” history. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ At some stage this hidden stretch of the Rudrón was invaded by commercial fishers seeking freshwater crayfish which proliferated here in an ideal habitat. The crustaceans got a high price in far away municipal markets, and were so greedily sought after that they seem to have disappeared altogether. Or perhaps they have become experts at camouflage. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
🔱 Half-Sunken church, Hoyos del Tozo, Province of Burgos, Castilla y León, Spain ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Ⓒ Peter Callas 2018. All Rights Reserved. This image may not be used, reposted or reproduced in any way without prior written permission from the copyright holder. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ This tiny riparian hamlet hidden deep in the Rudrón Valley has a name which seems to translate as “holes” of Tozo. Its streets are drawn parallel to the River Rudrón and the whole village is encased by steep rocky outcrops. It had less than 20 inhabitants in 2017, down from 24 in 2008, but the only cafe seemed to be open miraculously on our arrival, no doubt alerted by the sound of our solitary car engine to this end-of-the-road locale. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ It has a church whose portal is half sunken in alluvial soil, perhaps from a cataclysmic flooding. A crude carving of a merm of indeterminate gender attests to its riverine - rather than marine - origin, and although the church seems to emerge from the steep rocky cliffs behind it, as so many cave churches do in Spain and Italy, a quick walk behind it leads to the discovery that it has mostly been rendered a few centimetres free of the rocky chaos. Protruding from the roof are a series of almost cursory corbels which look like a group of faded postcards from elsewhere grander. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ In this part of the Rudrón the rocks of its gullies and small gorges have been worn away over millions of years to produce a convoluted and concealed landscape. In places the river actually runs underground. It seems like a good place to disappear, and I guess that may well be the hamlet’s origin; perhaps even soon after the reconquest of this area or at some other time in the Iberian peninsula’s “serpentine” history. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ At some stage this hidden stretch of the Rudrón was invaded by commercial fishers seeking freshwater crayfish which proliferated here in an ideal habitat. The crustaceans got a high price in far away municipal markets, and were so greedily sought after that they seem to have disappeared altogether. Or perhaps they have become experts at camouflage. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
🔱 Half-Sunken church, Hoyos del Tozo, Province of Burgos, Castilla y León, Spain ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Ⓒ Peter Callas 2018. All Rights Reserved. This image may not be used, reposted or reproduced in any way without prior written permission from the copyright holder. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ This tiny riparian hamlet hidden deep in the Rudrón Valley has a name which seems to translate as “holes” of Tozo. Its streets are drawn parallel to the River Rudrón and the whole village is encased by steep rocky outcrops. It had less than 20 inhabitants in 2017, down from 24 in 2008, but the only cafe seemed to be open miraculously on our arrival, no doubt alerted by the sound of our solitary car engine to this end-of-the-road locale. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ It has a church whose portal is half sunken in alluvial soil, perhaps from a cataclysmic flooding. A crude carving of a “merm” of indeterminate gender attests to its riverine - rather than marine - origin, and although the church seems to emerge from the steep rocky cliffs behind it, as so many cave churches do in Spain and Italy, a quick walk behind it leads to the discovery that it has mostly been rendered a few centimetres free of the rocky chaos. Protruding from the roof are a series of almost cursory corbels which look like a group of faded postcards from elsewhere grander. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ In this part of the Rudrón the rocks of its gullies and small gorges have been worn away over millions of years to produce a convoluted and concealed landscape. In places the river actually runs underground. It seems like a good place to disappear, and I guess that may well be the hamlet’s origin; perhaps even soon after the reconquest of this area or at some other time in the Iberian peninsula’s “serpentine” history. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ At some stage this hidden stretch of the Rudrón was invaded by commercial fishers seeking freshwater crayfish which proliferated here in an ideal habitat. The crustaceans got a high price in far away municipal markets, and were so greedily sought after that they seem to have disappeared altogether. Or perhaps they have become experts at camouflage.
🔱 Hidden Realm, still frame versions, Half-Sunken church, Hoyos del Tozo, Province of Burgos, Castilla y León, Spain ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Ⓒ Peter Callas 2018. All Rights Reserved. This image may not be used, reposted or reproduced in any way without prior written permission from the copyright holder. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ This tiny riparian hamlet hidden deep in the Rudrón Valley has a name which seems to translate as “holes” of Tozo. Its streets are drawn parallel to the River Rudrón and the whole village is encased by steep rocky outcrops. It had less than 20 inhabitants in 2017, down from 24 in 2008, but the only cafe seemed to be open miraculously on our arrival, no doubt alerted by the sound of our solitary car engine to this end-of-the-road locale. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ It has a church whose portal is half sunken in alluvial soil, perhaps from a cataclysmic flooding. A crude carving of a “merm” of indeterminate gender attests to its riverine - rather than marine - origin, and although the church seems to emerge from the steep rocky cliffs behind it, as so many cave churches do in Spain and Italy, a quick walk behind it leads to the discovery that it has mostly been rendered a few centimetres free of the rocky chaos. Protruding from the roof are a series of almost cursory corbels which look like a group of faded postcards from elsewhere grander. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ In this part of the Rudrón the rocks of its gullies and small gorges have been worn away over millions of years to produce a convoluted and concealed landscape. In places the river actually runs underground. It seems like a good place to disappear, and I guess that may well be the hamlet’s origin; perhaps even soon after the reconquest of this area or at some other time in the Iberian peninsula’s “serpentine” history. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ At some stage this hidden stretch of the Rudrón was invaded by commercial fishers seeking freshwater crayfish which proliferated here in an ideal habitat. The crustaceans got a high price in far away municipal markets, and were so greedily sought after that they seem to have disappeared altogether. Or perhaps they have become experts at camouflage. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
🔱 Half-Sunken church, Hoyos del Tozo, Province of Burgos, Castilla y León, Spain ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Ⓒ Peter Callas 2018. All Rights Reserved. This image may not be used, reposted or reproduced in any way without prior written permission from the copyright holder. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ This tiny riparian hamlet hidden deep in the Rudrón Valley has a name which seems to translate as “holes” of Tozo. Its streets are drawn parallel to the River Rudrón and the whole village is encased by steep rocky outcrops. It had less than 20 inhabitants in 2017, down from 24 in 2008, but the only cafe seemed to be open miraculously on our arrival, no doubt alerted by the sound of our solitary car engine to this end-of-the-road locale. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ It has a church whose portal is half sunken in alluvial soil, perhaps from a cataclysmic flooding. A crude carving of a “merm” of indeterminate gender attests to its riverine - rather than marine - origin, and although the church seems to emerge from the steep rocky cliffs behind it, as so many cave churches do in Spain and Italy, a quick walk behind it leads to the discovery that it has mostly been rendered a few centimetres free of the rocky chaos. Protruding from the roof are a series of almost cursory corbels which look like a group of faded postcards from elsewhere grander. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ In this part of the Rudrón the rocks of its gullies and small gorges have been worn away over millions of years to produce a convoluted and concealed landscape. In places the river actually runs underground. It seems like a good place to disappear, and I guess that may well be the hamlet’s origin; perhaps even soon after the reconquest of this area or at some other time in the Iberian peninsula’s “serpentine” history. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ At some stage this hidden stretch of the Rudrón was invaded by commercial fishers seeking freshwater crayfish which proliferated here in an ideal habitat. The crustaceans got a high price in far away municipal markets, and were so greedily sought after that they seem to have disappeared altogether. Or perhaps they have become experts at camouflage. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
🔱 Hidden Realm, Half-Sunken church, Hoyos del Tozo, Province of Burgos, Castilla y León, Spain ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Ⓒ Peter Callas 2018. All Rights Reserved. This image may not be used, reposted or reproduced in any way without prior written permission from the copyright holder. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ This tiny riparian hamlet hidden deep in the Rudrón Valley has a name which seems to translate as “holes” of Tozo. Its streets are drawn parallel to the River Rudrón and the whole village is encased by steep rocky outcrops. It had less than 20 inhabitants in 2017, down from 24 in 2008, but the only cafe seemed to be open miraculously on our arrival, no doubt alerted by the sound of our solitary car engine to this end-of-the-road locale. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ It has a church whose portal is half sunken in alluvial soil, perhaps from a cataclysmic flooding. A crude carving of a “merm” of indeterminate gender attests to its riverine - rather than marine - origin, and although the church seems to emerge from the steep rocky cliffs behind it, as so many cave churches do in Spain and Italy, a quick walk behind it leads to the discovery that it has mostly been rendered a few centimetres free of the rocky chaos. Protruding from the roof are a series of almost cursory corbels which look like a group of faded postcards from elsewhere grander. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ In this part of the Rudrón the rocks of its gullies and small gorges have been worn away over millions of years to produce a convoluted and concealed landscape. In places the river actually runs underground. It seems like a good place to disappear, and I guess that may well be the hamlet’s origin; perhaps even soon after the reconquest of this area or at some other time in the Iberian peninsula’s “serpentine” history. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ At some stage this hidden stretch of the Rudrón was invaded by commercial fishers seeking freshwater crayfish which proliferated here in an ideal habitat. The crustaceans got a high price in far away municipal markets, and were so greedily sought after that they seem to have disappeared altogether. Or perhaps they have become experts at camouflage. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
🔱 Half-Sunken church, Hoyos del Tozo, Province of Burgos, Castilla y León, Spain ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Ⓒ Peter Callas 2018. All Rights Reserved. This image may not be used, reposted or reproduced in any way without prior written permission from the copyright holder. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ This tiny riparian hamlet hidden deep in the Rudrón Valley has a name which seems to translate as “holes” of Tozo. Its streets are drawn parallel to the River Rudrón and the whole village is encased by steep rocky outcrops. It had less than 20 inhabitants in 2017, down from 24 in 2008, but the only cafe seemed to be open miraculously on our arrival, no doubt alerted by the sound of our solitary car engine to this end-of-the-road locale. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ It has a church whose portal is half sunken in alluvial soil, perhaps from a cataclysmic flooding. A crude carving of a “merm” of indeterminate gender attests to its riverine - rather than marine - origin, and although the church seems to emerge from the steep rocky cliffs behind it, as so many cave churches do in Spain and Italy, a quick walk behind it leads to the discovery that it has mostly been rendered a few centimetres free of the rocky chaos. Protruding from the roof are a series of almost cursory corbels which look like a group of faded postcards from elsewhere grander. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ In this part of the Rudrón the rocks of its gullies and small gorges have been worn away over millions of years to produce a convoluted and concealed landscape. In places the river actually runs underground. It seems like a good place to disappear, and I guess that may well be the hamlet’s origin; perhaps even soon after the reconquest of this area or at some other time in the Iberian peninsula’s “serpentine” history. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ At some stage this hidden stretch of the Rudrón was invaded by commercial fishers seeking freshwater crayfish which proliferated here in an ideal habitat. The crustaceans got a high price in far away municipal markets, and were so greedily sought after that they seem to have disappeared altogether. Or perhaps they have become experts at camouflage. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
🔱 Half-Sunken church, Hoyos del Tozo, Province of Burgos, Castilla y León, Spain ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Ⓒ Peter Callas 2018. All Rights Reserved. This image may not be used, reposted or reproduced in any way without prior written permission from the copyright holder. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ This tiny riparian hamlet hidden deep in the Rudrón Valley has a name which seems to translate as “holes” of Tozo. Its streets are drawn parallel to the River Rudrón and the whole village is encased by steep rocky outcrops. It had less than 20 inhabitants in 2017, down from 24 in 2008, but the only cafe seemed to be open miraculously on our arrival, no doubt alerted by the sound of our solitary car engine to this end-of-the-road locale. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ It has a church whose portal is half sunken in alluvial soil, perhaps from a cataclysmic flooding. A crude carving of a “merm” of indeterminate gender attests to its riverine - rather than marine - origin, and although the church seems to emerge from the steep rocky cliffs behind it, as so many cave churches do in Spain and Italy, a quick walk behind it leads to the discovery that it has mostly been rendered a few centimetres free of the rocky chaos. Protruding from the roof are a series of almost cursory corbels which look like a group of faded postcards from elsewhere grander. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ In this part of the Rudrón the rocks of its gullies and small gorges have been worn away over millions of years to produce a convoluted and concealed landscape. In places the river actually runs underground. It seems like a good place to disappear, and I guess that may well be the hamlet’s origin; perhaps even soon after the reconquest of this area or at some other time in the Iberian peninsula’s “serpentine” history. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ At some stage this hidden stretch of the Rudrón was invaded by commercial fishers seeking freshwater crayfish which proliferated here in an ideal habitat. The crustaceans got a high price in far away municipal markets, and were so greedily sought after that they seem to have disappeared altogether. Or perhaps they have become experts at camouflage. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
🔱 Half-Sunken church, Hoyos del Tozo, Province of Burgos, Castilla y León, Spain ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Ⓒ Peter Callas 2018. All Rights Reserved. This image may not be used, reposted or reproduced in any way without prior written permission from the copyright holder. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ This tiny riparian hamlet hidden deep in the Rudrón Valley has a name which seems to translate as “holes” of Tozo. Its streets are drawn parallel to the River Rudrón and the whole village is encased by steep rocky outcrops. It had less than 20 inhabitants in 2017, down from 24 in 2008, but the only cafe seemed to be open miraculously on our arrival, no doubt alerted by the sound of our solitary car engine to this end-of-the-road locale. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ It has a church whose portal is half sunken in alluvial soil, perhaps from a cataclysmic flooding. A crude carving of a “merm” of indeterminate gender attests to its riverine - rather than marine - origin, and although the church seems to emerge from the steep rocky cliffs behind it, as so many cave churches do in Spain and Italy, a quick walk behind it leads to the discovery that it has mostly been rendered a few centimetres free of the rocky chaos. Protruding from the roof are a series of almost cursory corbels which look like a group of faded postcards from elsewhere grander. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ In this part of the Rudrón the rocks of its gullies and small gorges have been worn away over millions of years to produce a convoluted and concealed landscape. In places the river actually runs underground. It seems like a good place to disappear, and I guess that may well be the hamlet’s origin; perhaps even soon after the reconquest of this area or at some other time in the Iberian peninsula’s “serpentine” history. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ At some stage this hidden stretch of the Rudrón was invaded by commercial fishers seeking freshwater crayfish which proliferated here in an ideal habitat. The crustaceans got a high price in far away municipal markets, and were so greedily sought after that they seem to have disappeared altogether. Or perhaps they have become experts at camouflage. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
🔱 Half-Sunken church, Hoyos del Tozo, Province of Burgos, Castilla y León, Spain ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Ⓒ Peter Callas 2018. All Rights Reserved. This image may not be used, reposted or reproduced in any way without prior written permission from the copyright holder. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ This tiny riparian hamlet hidden deep in the Rudrón Valley has a name which seems to translate as “holes” of Tozo. Its streets are drawn parallel to the River Rudrón and the whole village is encased by steep rocky outcrops. It had less than 20 inhabitants in 2017, down from 24 in 2008, but the only cafe seemed to be open miraculously on our arrival, no doubt alerted by the sound of our solitary car engine to this end-of-the-road locale. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ It has a church whose portal is half sunken in alluvial soil, perhaps from a cataclysmic flooding. A crude carving of a “merm” of indeterminate gender attests to its riverine - rather than marine - origin, and although the church seems to emerge from the steep rocky cliffs behind it, as so many cave churches do in Spain and Italy, a quick walk behind it leads to the discovery that it has mostly been rendered a few centimetres free of the rocky chaos. Protruding from the roof are a series of almost cursory corbels which look like a group of faded postcards from elsewhere grander. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ In this part of the Rudrón the rocks of its gullies and small gorges have been worn away over millions of years to produce a convoluted and concealed landscape. In places the river actually runs underground. It seems like a good place to disappear, and I guess that may well be the hamlet’s origin; perhaps even soon after the reconquest of this area or at some other time in the Iberian peninsula’s “serpentine” history. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ At some stage this hidden stretch of the Rudrón was invaded by commercial fishers seeking freshwater crayfish which proliferated here in an ideal habitat. The crustaceans got a high price in far away municipal markets, and were so greedily sought after that they seem to have disappeared altogether. Or perhaps they have become experts at camouflage. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
🔱 Half-Sunken church, Hoyos del Tozo, Province of Burgos, Castilla y León, Spain ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Ⓒ Peter Callas 2018. All Rights Reserved. This image may not be used, reposted or reproduced in any way without prior written permission from the copyright holder. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ This tiny riparian hamlet hidden deep in the Rudrón Valley has a name which seems to translate as “holes” of Tozo. Its streets are drawn parallel to the River Rudrón and the whole village is encased by steep rocky outcrops. It had less than 20 inhabitants in 2017, down from 24 in 2008, but the only cafe seemed to be open miraculously on our arrival, no doubt alerted by the sound of our solitary car engine to this end-of-the-road locale. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ It has a church whose portal is half sunken in alluvial soil, perhaps from a cataclysmic flooding. A crude carving of a merm of indeterminate gender attests to its riverine - rather than marine - origin, and although the church seems to emerge from the steep rocky cliffs behind it, as so many cave churches do in Spain and Italy, a quick walk behind it leads to the discovery that it has mostly been rendered a few centimetres free of the rocky chaos. Protruding from the roof are a series of almost cursory corbels which look like a group of faded postcards from elsewhere grander. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ In this part of the Rudrón the rocks of its gullies and small gorges have been worn away over millions of years to produce a convoluted and concealed landscape. In places the river actually runs underground. It seems like a good place to disappear, and I guess that may well be the hamlet’s origin; perhaps even soon after the reconquest of this area or at some other time in the Iberian peninsula’s “serpentine” history. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ At some stage this hidden stretch of the Rudrón was invaded by commercial fishers seeking freshwater crayfish which proliferated here in an ideal habitat. The crustaceans got a high price in far away municipal markets, and were so greedily sought after that they seem to have disappeared altogether. Or perhaps they have become experts at camouflage. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
🔱 Half-Sunken church, Hoyos del Tozo, Province of Burgos, Castilla y León, Spain ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Ⓒ Peter Callas 2018. All Rights Reserved. This image may not be used, reposted or reproduced in any way without prior written permission from the copyright holder. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ This tiny riparian hamlet hidden deep in the Rudrón Valley has a name which seems to translate as “holes” of Tozo. Its streets are drawn parallel to the River Rudrón and the whole village is encased by steep rocky outcrops. It had less than 20 inhabitants in 2017, down from 24 in 2008, but the only cafe seemed to be open miraculously on our arrival, no doubt alerted by the sound of our solitary car engine to this end-of-the-road locale. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ It has a church whose portal is half sunken in alluvial soil, perhaps from a cataclysmic flooding. A crude carving of a merm of indeterminate gender attests to its riverine - rather than marine - origin, and although the church seems to emerge from the steep rocky cliffs behind it, as so many cave churches do in Spain and Italy, a quick walk behind it leads to the discovery that it has mostly been rendered a few centimetres free of the rocky chaos. Protruding from the roof are a series of almost cursory corbels which look like a group of faded postcards from elsewhere grander. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ In this part of the Rudrón the rocks of its gullies and small gorges have been worn away over millions of years to produce a convoluted and concealed landscape. In places the river actually runs underground. It seems like a good place to disappear, and I guess that may well be the hamlet’s origin; perhaps even soon after the reconquest of this area or at some other time in the Iberian peninsula’s “serpentine” history. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ At some stage this hidden stretch of the Rudrón was invaded by commercial fishers seeking freshwater crayfish which proliferated here in an ideal habitat. The crustaceans got a high price in far away municipal markets, and were so greedily sought after that they seem to have disappeared altogether. Or perhaps they have become experts at camouflage. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
🔱 Half-Sunken church, Hoyos del Tozo, Province of Burgos, Castilla y León, Spain ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Ⓒ Peter Callas 2018. All Rights Reserved. This image may not be used, reposted or reproduced in any way without prior written permission from the copyright holder. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ This tiny riparian hamlet hidden deep in the Rudrón Valley has a name which seems to translate as “holes” of Tozo. Its streets are drawn parallel to the River Rudrón and the whole village is encased by steep rocky outcrops. It had less than 20 inhabitants in 2017, down from 24 in 2008, but the only cafe seemed to be open miraculously on our arrival, no doubt alerted by the sound of our solitary car engine to this end-of-the-road locale. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ It has a church whose portal is half sunken in alluvial soil, perhaps from a cataclysmic flooding. A crude carving of a “merm” of indeterminate gender attests to its riverine - rather than marine - origin, and although the church seems to emerge from the steep rocky cliffs behind it, as so many cave churches do in Spain and Italy, a quick walk behind it leads to the discovery that it has mostly been rendered a few centimetres free of the rocky chaos. Protruding from the roof are a series of almost cursory corbels which look like a group of faded postcards from elsewhere grander. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ In this part of the Rudrón the rocks of its gullies and small gorges have been worn away over millions of years to produce a convoluted and concealed landscape. In places the river actually runs underground. It seems like a good place to disappear, and I guess that may well be the hamlet’s origin; perhaps even soon after the reconquest of this area or at some other time in the Iberian peninsula’s “serpentine” history. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ At some stage this hidden stretch of the Rudrón was invaded by commercial fishers seeking freshwater crayfish which proliferated here in an ideal habitat. The crustaceans got a high price in far away municipal markets, and were so greedily sought after that they seem to have disappeared altogether. Or perhaps they have become experts at camouflage. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
🔱 Half-Sunken church, Hoyos del Tozo, Province of Burgos, Castilla y León, Spain ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Ⓒ Peter Callas 2018. All Rights Reserved. This image may not be used, reposted or reproduced in any way without prior written permission from the copyright holder. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ This tiny riparian hamlet hidden deep in the Rudrón Valley has a name which seems to translate as “holes” of Tozo. Its streets are drawn parallel to the River Rudrón and the whole village is encased by steep rocky outcrops. It had less than 20 inhabitants in 2017, down from 24 in 2008, but the only cafe seemed to be open miraculously on our arrival, no doubt alerted by the sound of our solitary car engine to this end-of-the-road locale. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ It has a church whose portal is half sunken in alluvial soil, perhaps from a cataclysmic flooding. A crude carving of a “merm” of indeterminate gender attests to its riverine - rather than marine - origin, and although the church seems to emerge from the steep rocky cliffs behind it, as so many cave churches do in Spain and Italy, a quick walk behind it leads to the discovery that it has mostly been rendered a few centimetres free of the rocky chaos. Protruding from the roof are a series of almost cursory corbels which look like a group of faded postcards from elsewhere grander. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ In this part of the Rudrón the rocks of its gullies and small gorges have been worn away over millions of years to produce a convoluted and concealed landscape. In places the river actually runs underground. It seems like a good place to disappear, and I guess that may well be the hamlet’s origin; perhaps even soon after the reconquest of this area or at some other time in the Iberian peninsula’s “serpentine” history. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ At some stage this hidden stretch of the Rudrón was invaded by commercial fishers seeking freshwater crayfish which proliferated here in an ideal habitat. The crustaceans got a high price in far away municipal markets, and were so greedily sought after that they seem to have disappeared altogether. Or perhaps they have become experts at camouflage. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
🔱 Half-Sunken church, Hoyos del Tozo, Province of Burgos, Castilla y León, Spain ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Ⓒ Peter Callas 2018. All Rights Reserved. This image may not be used, reposted or reproduced in any way without prior written permission from the copyright holder. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ This tiny riparian hamlet hidden deep in the Rudrón Valley has a name which seems to translate as “holes” of Tozo. Its streets are drawn parallel to the River Rudrón and the whole village is encased by steep rocky outcrops. It had less than 20 inhabitants in 2017, down from 24 in 2008, but the only cafe seemed to be open miraculously on our arrival, no doubt alerted by the sound of our solitary car engine to this end-of-the-road locale. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ It has a church whose portal is half sunken in alluvial soil, perhaps from a cataclysmic flooding. A crude carving of a “merm” of indeterminate gender attests to its riverine - rather than marine - origin, and although the church seems to emerge from the steep rocky cliffs behind it, as so many cave churches do in Spain and Italy, a quick walk behind it leads to the discovery that it has mostly been rendered a few centimetres free of the rocky chaos. Protruding from the roof are a series of almost cursory corbels which look like a group of faded postcards from elsewhere grander. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ In this part of the Rudrón the rocks of its gullies and small gorges have been worn away over millions of years to produce a convoluted and concealed landscape. In places the river actually runs underground. It seems like a good place to disappear, and I guess that may well be the hamlet’s origin; perhaps even soon after the reconquest of this area or at some other time in the Iberian peninsula’s “serpentine” history. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ At some stage this hidden stretch of the Rudrón was invaded by commercial fishers seeking freshwater crayfish which proliferated here in an ideal habitat. The crustaceans got a high price in far away municipal markets, and were so greedily sought after that they seem to have disappeared altogether. Or perhaps they have become experts at camouflage. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
🔱 Half-Sunken church, Hoyos del Tozo, Province of Burgos, Castilla y León, Spain ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Ⓒ Peter Callas 2018. All Rights Reserved. This image may not be used, reposted or reproduced in any way without prior written permission from the copyright holder. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ This tiny riparian hamlet hidden deep in the Rudrón Valley has a name which seems to translate as “holes” of Tozo. Its streets are drawn parallel to the River Rudrón and the whole village is encased by steep rocky outcrops. It had less than 20 inhabitants in 2017, down from 24 in 2008, but the only cafe seemed to be open miraculously on our arrival, no doubt alerted by the sound of our solitary car engine to this end-of-the-road locale. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ It has a church whose portal is half sunken in alluvial soil, perhaps from a cataclysmic flooding. A crude carving of a “merm” of indeterminate gender attests to its riverine - rather than marine - origin, and although the church seems to emerge from the steep rocky cliffs behind it, as so many cave churches do in Spain and Italy, a quick walk behind it leads to the discovery that it has mostly been rendered a few centimetres free of the rocky chaos. Protruding from the roof are a series of almost cursory corbels which look like a group of faded postcards from elsewhere grander. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ In this part of the Rudrón the rocks of its gullies and small gorges have been worn away over millions of years to produce a convoluted and concealed landscape. In places the river actually runs underground. It seems like a good place to disappear, and I guess that may well be the hamlet’s origin; perhaps even soon after the reconquest of this area or at some other time in the Iberian peninsula’s “serpentine” history. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ At some stage this hidden stretch of the Rudrón was invaded by commercial fishers seeking freshwater crayfish which proliferated here in an ideal habitat. The crustaceans got a high price in far away municipal markets, and were so greedily sought after that they seem to have disappeared altogether. Or perhaps they have become experts at camouflage. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
🔱 Half-Sunken church, Hoyos del Tozo, Province of Burgos, Castilla y León, Spain ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ This tiny riparian hamlet hidden deep in the Rudrón Valley has a name which seems to translate as “holes” of Tozo. Its streets are drawn parallel to the River Rudrón and the whole village is encased by steep rocky outcrops. It had less than 20 inhabitants in 2017, down from 24 in 2008, but the only cafe seemed to be open miraculously on our arrival, no doubt alerted by the sound of our solitary car engine to this end-of-the-road locale. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ It has a church whose portal is half sunken in alluvial soil, perhaps from a cataclysmic flooding. A crude carving of a “merm” of indeterminate gender attests to its riverine - rather than marine - origin, and although the church seems to emerge from the steep rocky cliffs behind it, as so many cave churches do in Spain and Italy, a quick walk behind it leads to the discovery that it has mostly been rendered a few centimetres free of the rocky chaos. Protruding from the roof are a series of almost cursory corbels which look like a group of faded postcards from elsewhere grander. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ In this part of the Rudrón the rocks of its gullies and small gorges have been worn away over millions of years to produce a convoluted and concealed landscape. In places the river actually runs underground. It seems like a good place to disappear, and I guess that may well be the hamlet’s origin; perhaps even soon after the reconquest of this area or at some other time in the Iberian peninsula’s “serpentine” history. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ At some stage this hidden stretch of the Rudrón was invaded by commercial fishers seeking freshwater crayfish which proliferated here in an ideal habitat. The crustaceans got a high price in far away municipal markets, and were so greedily sought after that they seem to have disappeared altogether. Or perhaps they have become experts at camouflage. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
Der versunkene Turm im Reschensee gilt als ein Wahrzeichen des Vinschgaus. Die Kirche wurde Ende des zweiten Weltkrieges Opfer eines Stausee Projekts. Auch wenn die Geschichte dazu traurig ist, fasziniert ein heutiger Blick auf das bizarre Bild. Im Vordergrund ist übrigens für geübte Beobachter noch ein kamerageiler Fisch zu sehen 😉. . #ig_italia #ig_italy #southtirol #photooftheday #dolomiten #vinschgau #reschenpass #trekking #hike #visitswitzerland #myswitzerland #italy #italien #church #reschenseekirche #sunset #ifolormoments #reschensee #picoftheday #fujifeed #sunkenchurch #mountains #clouds #pass #italia #beautifuldestination #kirche #underwater #sunken
St nicola’s half sunken church #macedonia #sunkenchurch #scenicroute #traveller
The sunken church! An amazing sight out on our walk around Inisheer today #aranislands #inisheer #sunkenchurch
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