Was a time that these little valleys were actually farmed - today, sheep graze and goats run wild. Tourists and bird-watchers (and the odd snapper) now have the run of the place - well, if they are very fit and wear anything other than sandals - but a hidden danger lurks: the grasses that grow alongside the rough paths/rain tracks are seasonally bedevilled with ticks. They hang about waiting for passing animals and hey, anything hot, sweaty and full of blood will do. I no longer smoke, not in bed nor anywhere else, and so the first traditional method of removal is denied me, but I do know that they sometimes just give up and let go, all by themselves. Perhaps they just dislike the aspirin content I enjoy. Oh, I don't know the season during which they flourish, but it's unlikely I'll be seeing them again in the very near future.
Rob C