Del calor de la cámper al frío que corta en el Cañón del Río Lobos. Tradiciones intensas en El Burgo de Osma, pipís rebeldes, buitres con hambre y un final calentito en Ágreda. Un día completo, muy completo.
motorhome area 🚐
Today we woke up to school shouts and ended up surrounded by motorhomes from half of Europe. Serious monasteries, Roman ruins, treacherous rain and humans soaked because of the water. Me, dry and writing.
Today it was cold, drizzling, and a quick walk around Llerena, which doesn't improve much in the daytime. Then washing machines, rebellious dryers, a quiet road, and we ended up sleeping with Seville shining in the distance.
Today I woke up to sun and cold in a place so perfect that Daddy Edu marked it for other travellers. I chatted with a curious Dutchman, went through boring towns in Reyes and ended up warm in Llerena, without rushing and without noise.
Today we say goodbye to the year among snow, mountain roads and comforting silences. We went up to Gredos with hardly any plan, looking for cold and calm, and ended up celebrating the quietest possible New Year's Eve, at 1450 metres, warm and happy.
Today I got lost among waterfalls, stairs and tunnels in the Monasterio de Piedra. Lots of water, lots of tired legs and a monastery that Edu wasn't that impressed with. In the end, motorway, pitch black night and bed in Medinaceli.
The rain had surrounded us, Toulouse was calling us and the sofa was holding us back. In the end, the naps won, Daddy Edu's thoughts and my talent for doing nothing with style. A day without a destination, but full of dog-like calm.
The rain didn't stop us: naps, laundry and doggy adventures around Montauban until we found our nightly refuge
Today we travelled through rain, déjà vu and fortresses. Daddy Edu swore that Najac sounded familiar... and he was right. Between ancient stones, dusty mannequins and a late sun, we ended the day in a charming corner called Bruniquel.
I thought we were going to spend the day among grass and naps, but Daddy Edu started the engine and we ended up exploring castles, rivers and fairytale villages before sleeping by Lake Rouffiac.
Oradour-sur-Glane leaves us speechless and without a walk. I, the only dog in the world banned by history, wait outside while Dad visits the ruins. At the end of the day, calm returns among trees and screws.
A photogenic castle, a bridge with no model dog, rain sabotaging plans and a dad who squeezes every area as if it were nomadic magic. Who said a grey day can't shine?