Day 13: Hattmatt - La Petite-Pierre - Bitche 🇫🇷 - 🇩🇪 Sankt Ingbert

I'm telling you with one ear up: last night was one for the history books. We slept right next to a waterfall, in a place that smells of moss, adventure, and total calm. I barely barked, even though I usually like to say "this is my territory" at night, even if it's not true.

In the morning, only one human appeared. He came by car, read the very important fishing sign —so important that he didn't even fish— and then came straight to play with me. There should be more people like that. We played a bit and he left with the same elegance with which he came. I christened him "The Sign Man".

We packed up and by half past ten we were already on our way. Heading to La Petite-Pierre, which sounds like a pastry, but is a charming village nestled among forests. We parked in the village itself and there wasn't a trace of other visitors. Only cobbled streets, houses with roofs that whisper tales, and a castle that looks like it came out of a knights and princesses movie. We strolled through the old town, quiet, beautiful, with walls where I felt like a vigilant and official barker of the town.

But the best part of the day was the walk: the Three Rocks Trail. First we reached the Raven's Rock (Rocher du Corbeau), which greeted us from above with crazy views. Then we went through lush forests until we came across the Pagan's Rock (Rocher des Païens), which has a name of ancient mystery and such strange shapes that I even got serious. And finally, the icing on the cake: the White Rock (Rocher Blanc), luminous, elegant, and with a perfect place to sit and eat a treat, which is exactly what I did.

The walk took us about two and a half hours, mostly in the shade, with about 20 degrees and the smell of fresh pine. A luxury. I felt free, loose, happy. And without thinking about my toys... well, almost.

At two o'clock we went back to the car and went to a nearby picnic area. Daddy Edu prepared something to eat, I received my usual kibble (no comment) and then we rested a bit. I dreamed that one of the rocks was shaped like a giant bone. My legs were moving in my sleep, I think.

Then we continued towards Bitche. No kidding. That's its name. We parked right below its fortress, and what a fortress. It's like a castle with a gym: enormous, robust, imposing. It was closed, but we were able to go around it on a beautiful path. Spectacular views and a silence that was a pleasure. Everything was quiet, with hardly any humans.

Then we made a technical stop at a Super U (which is not Lidl, but it's not NASA either), to buy a gift for Daddy Edu's family. The result? An arsenal of 20 French cheeses. Twenty. The camper now smells like a cave blessed by gourmet cows. I'm not complaining.

And without realizing it, we crossed into Germany. No sign, no control, no border, nothing. Where are the old borders, with booths and stamps? Now it's like changing channels without a remote.

We wanted to sleep near Saarbrücken, in a huge, paved parking lot, but... it didn't convince us. Everything uphill, no data coverage. Very beautiful, but no. So we looked for another place and ended up in a gravel parking lot, flat, quiet and surrounded by forest. Only 10 minutes away, but it seems like another world.

And here we are now. With the cheese well guarded, the forest whispering and the moon peeking through the trees. It's been a perfect day, one of those that leave your heart happy and your legs tired. I'm already in the croquette position. Good night, or as the ravens say: cruaaaac.