He lived here with us, up the mountain, but it is not known exactly where, as he constantly moved around. He was a kind of ogre: big, large, and all red.
His hair, beard, mustache, and thick eyebrows were all red. Even his outfit — a large jacket, tight pants, and a hat with a bow — was always all red. He was barefoot and his big feet left large footprints. Those footprints were never to be stepped on: if by chance it happened, the unfortunate person was forced to walk and walk until they collapsed to the ground or fell into the ravines.
But Sanguanel was not bad, rather the opposite. He caused no harm, stole nothing, broke nothing, and sometimes secretly helped the farmers, who in the morning found the barn clean and the cows in order. However, beware of insulting him: in that case, he became mean and vengeful.
So be careful: one must respect those they know, but also ogres, wizards, witches, and all people.
At 6.00 p.m., meeting at the Pro Loco headquarters for a walk with lanterns in search of SANGUANEL's footprints.
Upon return, refreshments with local products.
