Waking up in Wigtown harbor was like waking up in an advertisement for the perfect life for dogs (and humans). Total silence, open views of the estuary, fresh grass to roll around in, a handy water tap and mobile coverage like you could set up a hacker's office. And on top of that, the sun deigned to appear from behind the Scottish clouds. With that atmosphere, we went into total zen mode. No rushing, no running, no "come on, let's go now." We spent the whole morning in and out of the camper, fixing things, smelling the air, having breakfast, sunbathing with our backs to the wind... what you might call living well.

We took a couple of walks along the path that borders the harbor. First, we went to a small wooden bird hide, which was about a hundred meters away. We didn't see a single kite or dancing duck, but we did see a group of plump sheep and cows without complexes. Then we tried the other side, but the path was still closed for the lambing season, as a friendly sign warned. So we had to go back the way we came, without getting angry, because we were in premium relax mode.

At noon we were still there, not wanting to move a single wheel. We ate something light, filled the water tank and finally, when it was almost three o'clock, we set off for new adventures. Of course, without going too far.

About twelve kilometers away was our first stop: Sorbie Tower. It is a 16th-century stone tower, the former residence of the Hannay clan. Today it is being restored thanks to a voluntary association. Admission is free, although a donation is accepted.

There we met a very nice man, a New Zealander, who is part of the group that is restoring the tower. He started talking to Daddy Edu about the history of the place, the Hannay family, the work they have done and what still needs to be done. Meanwhile, I greeted other humans who were coming and going, all charming. A small place, but with soul.

We continued south, to Whithorn, which also has its history. It is one of the oldest Christian sites in Scotland, where Saint Ninian is said to have preached. We strolled through the old cemetery, the modern church and the ruins of the medieval priory, very quiet and with that mystical air of old stones. Everything smelled of centuries and moss to me. Daddy Edu liked that quiet atmosphere, without mass tourism, without shouting, without rushing.

And as the day was turning out perfectly, we decided to finish it off with a trip to the coast. We parked near the path and walked a kilometer to the beach. There is St. Ninian's Cave, the cave where, according to tradition, Saint Ninian would retreat to meditate. Saint Ninian was one of the first Christian missionaries in Scotland, back in the 4th century, and is highly venerated in this area. The cave is not visually impressive (a hole in the rock with some carved stones), but the walk to get there was very beautiful: forest, ferns, birdsong and, in the end, a stone beach with wide views of the Irish Sea.

On the beach, Daddy Edu met an Englishman who was also traveling alone in a camper. They talked for a long time about Scotland, Ireland and routes with wheels. Meanwhile, I was busy inspecting wet stones and sniffing messages left by other sea dogs.

Afterwards, with the sky a little darker, we went back to the car. Until then, the day had been one of shorts and a gentle breeze, but during the drive it started to rain and the wind picked up with a vengeance. As if Scotland was saying to us: "You were getting used to the sun? Well, take clouds in the face."

The final destination of the day was Mull of Galloway, the southernmost point of mainland Scotland. A spectacular cape, with cliffs, a white lighthouse and movie views. We parked in the parking lot at the edge of the world. From the camper door you can see the lighthouse like a postcard, and through the windows, only sea and cliffs. There are a couple more campers here, but there is plenty of room to feel alone with the wind.

Before we went into night mode, we took a short walk to the lighthouse. Tomorrow we will explore it better, with calm. But already at night you can tell that this place has something special. Here you don't need to sleep with white noise: the wind and waves make their own symphony.

And I, happy, because today I've had beach, forest, ruins, stone and nice humans. What more could you ask for? Well, yes, that it doesn't rain tomorrow. But we'll negotiate that with the clouds.