We'd been in Berga for over a month. Over a month of seeing the same trees, the same corners and the same walks, which weren't bad, but didn't crackle inside like paths do when they really get going. The reason was serious and metallic: the car. It went into the garage, came out, went back in. Two visits to Sahara 4x4 in Santpedor. One with the camper module in place, which was like going to the doctor with a rucksack and a coat, and another without the module, when the car was left in its underwear and the humans watched very attentively. I watched too, because something interesting can always happen. In the end, the good news arrived. The car was finally in good condition. Magic words. Words that meant movement.

Just when everything fell into place in the mechanical world, Saturday, December 6th arrived. A holiday in Spain. Constitution Day. That day when humans celebrate a very important paper by leaving the house if they can and eating as if there were no Mondays. In addition, Tito Joan's hair salon wasn't open, a key detail to understanding everything. Three days off ahead. Chuly, Daddy Edu and Tito Joan. The classic line-up.

The morning started slowly and happily. We had breakfast with a calmness that only exists when there's no clock bossing us around. Too quiet, they said. I said nothing. I observed. Bread, coffee, more human things. A few crumbs fell and the Constitution was reinforced a little more. Then came the moment of the suitcases, which was actually a logistical display worthy of a polar expedition. My trunk appeared. My blankets. My things. And food. Lots of food. For me and for an entire army just in case.

Between comings and goings, final revisions and the inevitable "have we got everything?", we managed to leave. At one o'clock in the afternoon. Perfect. Neither early nor late. At that exact point where one has already had time to doubt if it was really necessary to leave.

We made a brief stop in Puig-reig to fill the camper's water tank. I got out, stretched my legs, sniffed the world a bit and confirmed that everything was still in its place. Then we continued without further stops towards the coast. The air was changing little by little. I noticed it before them. Always. The humans, meanwhile, got a bit tangled up with the tolls, which is another travelling tradition. Some comments, some laughter, quick calculations. Final conclusion: it wasn't too expensive.

At four o'clock in the afternoon we arrived at a very beautiful place near Bonastre, in the province of Tarragona. The access is via a serious and unadorned stone path, where a four-wheel drive is not a whim but a good idea. From up here the landscape opens up and everything looks different, wider, more peaceful, as if the noise had stayed below.

We're eating now in the camper, with that clear feeling of having got it right. After the meal, Daddy Edu tries out his new drone. To me it looks like a strange creature that doesn't smell like anything familiar, but it flies with style. From above, they say, the place looks even more beautiful. Here we will put some photos and a short video for you to see, because there are places that are better understood when viewed from the air.

We are staying in the same place. There's no reason to move when the place has already won you over at first sight. The afternoon is falling slowly. I rest. I take a short walk, mark a couple of important ideas around the surroundings and go back to my place.

Now the camper is a cinema. Edu and Joan watch films on the big screen while I curl up and put the world on pause. The car is fine. The place is good. We're on the move again. And that, even if it's not on any calendar, should also be a holiday.