Lleida

Aparcar en Zaragoza fue misión imposible, pero a cambio hubo bocadillo de calamares, calles llenas de vida, una basílica gigantesca con una virgen diminuta y un final perfecto en lo alto de un tossal tranquilo donde dormir a gusto.

A steel monster planted by the river, ruins that appear like memories and a perfect end on the banks of the Ebro. Today we travel slowly, with cold, wind and many little ones watching every step.

Today I smelled thousand-year-old stones, crossed dodgy walkways in my arms and survived a dark, muddy tunnel. Thirteen kilometres later I found a perfect place to sleep and plan more mischief.

We set off without a plan, stopped at a cemetery that brings peace instead of fear, and ended up sleeping wherever night found us. That's how the best getaways begin.

After so many kilometres and mountains, we returned to Berga. Dad went to the workshop, Uncle Joan cut his hair, and Grandma forbade me from the sofa. How hard it is being a hairy dog at home!

The sun came out again after the fog, and we ended up walking along a Chinese wall… in Spain! Among sharp rocks, ghost towns and impossible paths, it was a day of pure doggy adventure.