Visitamos el palacio más surrealista de Francia, hecho por un cartero con mucha imaginación y cero prisa. Acabamos empapados en un cementerio y refugiados junto a una iglesia en mitad de nada.
free
We nearly fled the rain, we nearly went hiking, we nearly flew on a lake and we nearly slept where we shouldn't. But hey, the important thing is that nearly everything went well.
Today we crossed half of France, attempted an excursion frustrated by the rain, saw the famous Millau viaduct from above and slept next to a menhir and a Christ, like good devoted Gauls.
We were looking for the beach and ended up digging holes, dodging barriers, and searching for water at a snail's pace. We slept where the vines have changed their look since the last time.
Today a new journey begins. We've left Berga, Grandma and Uncle Joan (who stayed behind cutting hair), and we've already crossed the border like true smugglers. I'm a travelling dog again!
