chapter ten from finisterre we drove north-east following the barbed edge of the costa de la muerte : the jagged , splintery shore of the atlantic corner of spain , which for thousands of years has proved a place of watery sacrifice for countless terrified ships which are lifted out of the sea by huge rollers as if they are nothing more than toys in a childs bath tub and then flung on to the submerged rocks , smashed against the cliffs and impaled upon points of needle sharp granite .