It had been more than a week since the last getaway. At home, between Berga and Barcelona. I had already memorised all the tiles, all the smells of the neighbourhood and even the exact sound of the fridge when it opens just to get water. You can't live like this. Today we finally travelled again. This time just daddy Edu and me. Uncle Joan was staying behind because he has to work, but at the end of January we have to go back to Berga no matter what. So no international adventures. National trip, but a trip nonetheless.

We didn't leave early. That's already tradition. In the morning daddy Edu was preparing the camper, which basically consists of moving things from one place to another, moving them again and then saying "well, that's it". Afterwards we parked in front of Uncle Joan's hairdresser's, who was working, and I stayed there acting as a reception dog. I greeted clients, received strategic strokes and supervised the atmosphere while Edu did the shopping at Mercadona and then took Uncle Joan's car to the workshop to fix a flat tyre. Starting a trip by fixing problems that aren't yours should give you extra points somewhere.

After midday we said goodbye to Uncle Joan. I put on a "we'll be back" face, Edu started the car and, as always, decided to look at the map then. With the car running. With no idea where we would sleep tonight or what we would do in the next few days. He calls it freedom. I call it "we'll see where I crash tonight". But I trust him, more or less, depending on the tone of his "mmm".

We left Berga on a secondary road full of curves, towards Solsona. I love these roads because each curve brings a new smell and you never know if the next thing will be forest, field or a farm with interesting promises. After about three quarters of an hour we stopped at a place that surprised me a lot: the Cementiri Modernista d'Olius.

Don't worry, there are no ghosts. Or at least they didn't smell of anything suspicious. This cemetery is small, beautiful and very curious. It was designed by Bernardí Martorell, a disciple of Gaudí, and is integrated directly into the rock, as if the tombs had decided to stay there forever without bothering anyone. Everything is modernist, with soft shapes, stone everywhere and a pleasant silence. It doesn't give you the creeps. It gives you peace. I walked quietly, without lifting a leg too much, and thought it was one of the few cemeteries where a dog can walk without being looked at strangely. Edu was delighted taking photos and saying "how beautiful" every two steps.

We continued by car and arrived at Gualter, from where you can see the Rialb reservoir from above. The day was grey, one of those that don't help much to show off the landscapes, so the reservoir was more imposing than charming. Lots of water, serious sky and fresh wind. I looked for a while and then thought that, frankly, you can also see it quite well from the camper.

We were still without a plan. Edu looked at maps and his mobile phone again with a concentrated face, the one that always means that he doesn't quite know what to do but doesn't intend to admit it. Meanwhile, it started to get dark early, as usually happens when you are not sure where to sleep. Finally we found a place on the outskirts of the small village of Foradada. A gravel car park. It's not a calendar postcard, but it has views, there's no one else and it's quiet. For me that's a luxury.

Here we stayed. We ate in the camper, almost at four o'clock, which for a dog is a questionably unionised schedule, and decided that we would also sleep here. I settled down, took a couple of strategic turns and lay down satisfied.

On the road again. Without a plan. Without rushing. But with a camper, an open map and a human who improvises. We're doing well.