Let the drums sound! Let the wolves howl! Let the maps and balls be prepared! Today another great journey begins. Yes, yes, after more than four months with my Uncle Joan, the grandma and the cosy sofa in Berga... we're off again!

And I don't deny it, I'm excited. The kind with my tail wagging furiously. Although I'm also a little sad, because Uncle Joan isn't coming with us. He says he has "a lot of hair to cut". I thought he was referring to me and I panicked! But no, it was a human metaphor to say he has work at the hairdressers. Phew...

In the morning we said goodbye to grandma at home. She gave me some ear scratches and said something like "look after Edu, eh?". She always gives me those impossible missions. Then we went down to the hairdressers, not to change my hairstyle, but to collect clothes. Note: wet clothes. My daddy Edu decided that planning washing machines is still not his thing. We said goodbye to Uncle Joan, who was already hard at work with the scissors, and with the drum of the washing machine still resonating in my ears we set off in the car.

First stop: Sallent. The place has no beach, no palm trees, no cheese, but it has a dentist who was waiting for daddy Edu. While he was with his mouth open, I stayed guarding the camper van. Vigilant as a wolf... asleep.

After that, a route to Olot, with a technical stop at a launderette to dry the clothes that were still soaked as if we had washed them in the Llobregat river. While it was spinning in the dryer (the clothes, not me), daddy Edu ate something quick inside the camper van. Then we continued by car and parked in another, prettier place, for a doggy walk through a nice little forest. We walked along a path full of mischievous roots that wanted to make me trip, and we found the Font de les Tries. It is a fountain hidden among trees, with clear water coming out of a rock as if the mountain was crying with joy. There are benches for tired humans, and bushes for curious doggies. I loved it! They even gave me permission to soak my paws.

Then, road and blanket again. After a long while, we went through La Jonquera. Good heavens, what a mess. Trucks, cars, giant shops, petrol stations, signs with huge letters and nervous humans with bags of wine, cheese, ham and strange things. I felt like I was in a chase movie. I felt like barking at everything that moved.

And just when we thought we were crossing into France like elegant gentlemen, Google Maps became mischievous. Instead of taking us along the motorway, it took us down a dodgy road. In capital letters. Daddy Edu looked at the map, then looked at the slope of the road, then looked at me as if to say: "here we go, mate". And there we went.

The road was so steep that my ears were pulled back by vertigo. Loose earth, tight bends and not a single sign of "welcome to France". We didn't see a border, a customs office, not a single miserable sign. Nothing! We looked like smugglers, crossing like James Bond but in a 4x4 camper van full of dry clothes and a dog with a suspicious face.

After the scare (or the adventure, depending on who you ask), we suddenly appeared on an asphalted and super steep road, as if we were climbing to heaven in first gear. And there, suddenly, like a giant stone turtle, the Fort de Bellegarde appeared before us. A French fortress, huge, ancient, and with views that left my mouth open and my tongue hanging out.

The Fort de Bellegarde is planted right at the top of the Le Perthus pass. It is a 17th-century military castle that was built to control the border, watch over roads and scare the enemies. With giant walls, bastions, and that air of "nobody gets past us". You can't visit inside because they are restoring it, but we walked around it like good explorers. There are paths, high walls, and even a door closed with chains that made me imagine myself as a spy dog infiltrated.

We are going to sleep here tonight, parked next to the fortress, with the moon watching from above and the mountains acting as invisible walls. I have my ball, my blanket and my daddy Edu. Uncle Joan isn't here, but I feel like he's with us in spirit. Or at least in the form of a T-shirt in the suitcase.

The journey begins. It smells of adventure. It smells of road. And yes, it also smells a bit of freshly dried clothes. Where will we go tomorrow? Only the map knows... and my nose. Are you following me?