Day 57-58: Cramond

These past two days we've spent without moving an inch. Literally. Not to Lidl, not to a castle, not to a lake. Zero. The reason? Well, Daddy Edu is feeling awful. He's caught a bad cold... or maybe it's that flu that leaves your body feeling like a herd of angry Scottish reindeer ran over you.

I, frankly, am delighted. Because if Daddy Edu spends the day in bed, guess who snuggles up beside him, stretches like a lizard, and snores with style? Exactly. Yours truly. And besides, the weather didn't encourage big excursions either: rain in the morning, crosswinds, and those clouds that don't rain but threaten you all the time.

The first day, in the afternoon, the weather gave us a break and we were able to open the cell's door. Our famous terrace with views: of the sea, the island of Cramond, and a row of campervans lined up like nomadic sardines. While we were there, enjoying the air (me controlling the neighborhood, Edu drinking his infusion of fever and resignation), a car arrived and stopped right in front. A gentleman got out and stared at the cell with that mixture of respect and envy that our chassis sometimes evokes.

It turns out he was from Australia. Australia! That is, almost as far away as the vet when it's time for a vaccine. Soon after, his daughter and son-in-law arrived in a rental camper. She lives in Sweden now with her Swedish boyfriend, and the three of them have just traveled all over Scotland. They invited us for a drink. Daddy Edu, with his voice like a wet rag, got out the step-stool, grabbed a can of Coca-Cola and sat with them like a good ambassador for the camper world. I stayed around there, patrolling between legs, smelling sneakers, playing the social dog.

When the sun hid behind the clouds (again), the cold pushed us back to our den. Daddy got back into "mummy with a cough" mode, and I snuggled up where it was warmest: at his feet.

Today, the second day of recovery, the weather has returned to the classic Scottish menu: wind, drizzle, gray sky, and gusts of "better stay where you are". So we've done just that: stayed put. Short walks along the promenade, a couple of ball throws to keep the paws in shape, and back to bed. It's like a kind of rural spa, but with a fever.

I hope that tomorrow Daddy Edu feels better. Because although I love the blanket, sofa and nap plan, you know I have a traveler's spirit. And the world isn't going to smell itself.