Day 20: Barendrecht

We start the day with veterinary excitement! In the morning, they put me in the camper with just Papi Edu and Tito Antonio. Let's see, when neither Britte nor Wilma come, that's never a good sign. But since we weren't going very far, I thought: "it will be a short walk to sniff out new corners." Well, no. Veterinarian.

Don't worry, nothing's wrong with me. I'm not limping, I'm not coughing, and I don't have any suspicious lumps. This visit was just to take the famous mandatory anti-parasite pill to enter the United Kingdom. It turns out that to get on the ferry (yes, we're going on the ferry! Woooof!), the English humans want to be sure I'm not carrying a zoo of tapeworms in my gut. So they give you this super pill, which tastes like the devil, but opens the doors of Her Gracious Majesty (although I think it's now His Gracious Majestic).

The vet gave it to me directly, without asking anything. Bam, right in. He wrote everything down in my passport, which already looks like an adventure book. Luckily, it was less expensive than last year in Denmark, where they charged us 67 euros. This time "only" 47. If I keep collecting stamps like this, they'll give me canine European citizenship.

After the infernal gulp, back home. Papi Edu went into laundry mode and started a washing machine. And who watched the laundry as if it were a suspicious package? Me, of course. You never know when a traitorous sock might escape. As the sky was in deluxe deluge mode, I got back in Tom the cat's basket. I know, I know, it's not mine, and yes, it's for cats, and it's small, but it's warm and smells of vintage feline.

Although the peace thing is relative, because Tom, the cousin pusi, is older, deaf as a post, and never stops meowing. Long meows, the kind that bounce off the walls. He meows at the air, at the corners, at his memories... I don't know if he wants to chat or invoke something.

In the afternoon, when the rain stopped, we went for a walk from home. Papi Edu, Tita Wilma, Tito Antonio, and Britte were with me. We did go into the shopping center, because Papi wanted to look at some things. I behaved great. Or at least that's what I say. On the way back, a short nap (me), endless chatter (them).

And then... cycling exodus! At half past six, Papi Edu and Tito Antonio left on their bikes. Shortly after, Tita Wilma and Britte too. Lars was already out, because he had gone straight from work, which is with his final project. Very professional, but he didn't escape dinner.

And where did they all go? To have dinner in the old center of Barendrecht, at a very nice restaurant (they say). And me, at home again with the Megaphone Cat. Luckily, there were no territorial wars, although we shared the sofa with a safe distance.

They came back around nine, laughing, talking about desserts and bad jokes. And then... surprise! Papi Edu and Tito Antonio went to clean the camper with the pressure washer. Because of course, the English might not like continental mud, and if we're going to cross the channel, it's better to go clean. I supervised from the window, just in case the lance decided to rebel.

A final round of drinks (nothing for me, no cheese or olives) and then... a night walk and back to the camper, which is still in front of the house. We're leaving tomorrow! Heading to the ferry, heading to new lands, new smells, new adventures. Let the English be prepared, here comes a winemaker with a stamped passport and a desire to explore everything.