We slept with wind that howled louder than I did, waking up Daddy Edu to wrestle with the heating. Then fog, Tarazona that looks like Italy, an abandoned sanatorium that gives you the creeps, and a perfect hideout next to a dark reservoir.
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The rain and laziness left us trapped in the camper all morning, but when we went up to the Santuario de la Misericordia the wind was roaring outside and the heating turned the inside into a perfect refuge.
The fog held us up, the city tested us, and the diesel nearly ran out. A day without tourism, but full of little adventures and improvised decisions.
Today I wandered through a town frozen in war, explored a Little Russia in absolute silence and witnessed a free shower that nobody had asked for. We ended up sleeping among pine forests, with history still smelling of old stone.
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.
Off-road, bends, historic monasteries and breathtaking views: today we're ending the getaway with a day that mixes adventure, history and relaxation in the camper.
A ghost town, a modernist church and breathtaking views? Today we get lost on winding roads and surprising corners.
After more than a month in Berga and two visits to the workshop, we're finally back on the road. It's Constitution Day, the hairdresser's is closed and the camper takes us to a beautiful spot near Bonastre where everything falls into place again.
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.