Day 39: Linlithgow - EDI🛬 - Linlithgow

Today there were no castles, no statues of giant horses, no magic wheels that lift boats. But don't be fooled… it was a special day! The kind that starts off wet and boring but ends with a surprise party and included licks.

In the morning, it was raining. Like that, in a silly way. No storm, but constant. So, daddy Edu and I stayed huddled inside the camper for a good while, listening to the rain on the roof as if they were little nails dancing tap. Until around midday we said: "Come on, into the car!"

We drove for about an hour towards Edinburgh, but without entering yet. We were hungry and wanted to stop somewhere nice. And we found it: a fairly hidden corner on the banks of the Inchgarvie Narrows, which is the narrowing of the Firth of Forth, right between the islands and the bridges. From there you can see the water flowing strongly, as if the river was in a hurry to reach the sea. The place was beautiful... until we got out of the car and realized that there was more mud than grass, and more garbage than stones. Still, we ate there. I got the soft part of Edu's bread. The good thing about eating surrounded by mud is that if you drop something, it doesn't show.

Then it was laundry mission time. Yes, humans, that's also part of the adventure. We looked for a self-service laundromat and daddy Edu put our whole life in a giant washing machine. While the clothes spun and spun, he took the opportunity to buy food in a supermarket next door, and then he cleaned the car a bit. And I kept an eye out to make sure nobody stole our socks. I've told you many times: I'm a dog, not dirty.

In the afternoon, with the clothes already smelling of clean clouds, we went back to the estuary, but to another point of the river, this time almost under the Forth Bridge, that train bridge that looks like a giant iron spiderweb. Let me tell you: the Forth Bridge is one of the most famous railway bridges in the world, completed in 1890, all red and with a design like a Meccano construction but titan size. It is more than 2,500 meters long and is still in operation. A train passes and the camper trembles.

There were more motorhomes parked there, some looking like they were going to spend the night. But also many noisy cars, full of kids with loud music and engines that sounded like they were going to take off. They didn't even let me concentrate on my smells. Kids! See if you bark less and smell more!

I was already in night mode, wondering why daddy Edu didn't take my basket out of the cabin, which is like my "end of the day" signal. But he didn't move. He just looked at the clock. And just when I was about to go on a dog picket, bang! At two in the morning, we got in the camper and started.

We went to Edinburgh airport, parked (in a very expensive area: 14 pounds for less than 10 minutes, as if they washed the car for us!), and walked towards the terminal… And there, among sleepy humans and blue screens, was Tito Joan! I wasn't jumping, I was quadrupling. I welcomed him as only an excited dog knows how to do: with spins, running in circles and drool.

After the great reunion, we went back to the same place where we had slept the night before, next to the Union Canal. It took us a while because it was raining and it was night, and in those conditions daddy Edu drives as if we were carrying sugar crystals in the trunk. But we arrived safe and sound.

Now, already in bed, with Tito Joan snoring softly beside me and the rain caressing the camper, I can tell you: you don't need a castle to make a day special. Sometimes a bridge, a washing machine and a good surprise are enough.