In the morning, nobody was in a hurry. That's already an unequivocal sign that the night had been good. We slept surrounded by forest, without any strange noises or unexpected visits, and when we woke up the place was still just as peaceful, as if the world hadn't yet turned on its engine. Before even thinking about wheels and the road, we took a short walk among the trees, one of those that are good for stretching your legs, clearing your mind and confirming that yes, sleeping in the middle of the countryside is still an excellent idea.

We set off after midday, calmly and without too ambitious goals. Our online guide insisted that Arenas de San Pedro was worth it, so in about twenty minutes we were there. We parked almost in the centre and went out to explore with a good predisposition, which always helps. It didn't last long. Too much traffic, unremarkable streets, quite ugly houses and not even the town hall square managed to cheer us up. We strolled for a while out of pure travelling courtesy, but the town didn't tell us anything. Nothing at all.

The only thing that really stands out is the castle of Condestable Dávalos, which is also right in the centre, as if planted there to remind us that at some point Arenas was important. It is a fifteenth-century fortress, commissioned by Don Álvaro de Luna, the favourite of King John II of Castile. It has a powerful keep, serious walls and that castle-like air that doesn't need to try to command respect. Today it houses an auditorium and exhibition halls, but we only saw it from the outside, which was enough to give a dignified touch to a visit that otherwise left us rather cold.

So back to the car and looking for something greener, more open and with fewer traffic lights. Our guide spoke of gorges, a magic word that always sounds like water, shade and good walks for dogs with restless minds. We drove for about three-quarters of an hour to the Chilla gorge. The place is beautiful, the water flows clear and the surroundings have their charm, but there we didn't find any paths that would invite a long walk. We parked in a small open space near the sanctuary of the Virgen de Chilla, very close to the road, although with open views that compensated quite a bit for the proximity of the asphalt.

We ate in the camper with that mixture of hunger and travelling resignation that appears when you know that there won't be a great excursion but you don't care too much either. There are paths in the area, but it was already a bit late to start new routes and the landscape didn't quite appeal to us enough to launch into exploring it thoroughly. Sometimes the body asks for a pause and today that was the case.

After eating, we took a quick look at the sanctuary of the Virgen de Chilla. It is a simple building, much loved in the area, located in a pleasant and peaceful natural environment. The current sanctuary dates from the eighteenth century, although the devotion comes from much earlier. It is a place of pilgrimages and local celebrations, more important for what it represents than for its architecture. I thought it was correct, clean and well-maintained, which is no small thing, and the surroundings help you to slow down a couple of gears without effort.

We decided that we didn't feel like looking for anything else. The Rosarito reservoir had everything to end the day on a good note, so we were going to sleep right here. A spacious, silent place, surrounded by nature and with that air of a place where nobody looks at you strangely for staying still. We parked calmly and, without rushing, went out for another walk around the plains that surround the reservoir, a kind of giant beach without a sea, open and luminous. I enjoyed myself as I should, running, smelling thoroughly and playing with wooden sticks that are always better than any bought toy.

With the place already chosen to spend the night, Papi Edu took out the drone to take advantage of the last hours of light and play for a while from the air. Everything was going well until it stopped. A combination of bad luck and a beginner's error meant that a treacherous branch, invisible to both him and the drone itself, appeared just where it shouldn't have. A sharp blow and the drone was damaged. Now it only works halfway and will have to be sent for repair. I was there, attentive, following the flight with my head tilted, not quite understanding why humans like things to fly so much... until they stop flying.

The afternoon gradually faded away, without any more dramas or noises. The reservoir was calm, the sky faded and the silence once again occupied everything. A day without great milestones, but a good one. One of those that don't boast, but are remembered. Here, surrounded by water, forest and plenty of space, we settled down for the night, with the peaceful feeling of having once again chosen the right place.