Thursday 26 September

We were up early, sorted the van out and then both walked Lottie over to the supermarket to get some bread. On the way back we saw 3 squirrels chasing along the tall pine trees. Yesterday we saw a red one but these today were nearly black. Outside of the campsite there are square road signs with squirrels on.

Just before we left the site we said goodbye to the English couple that we had a meal with last night, and the Germans next to us. It’s very strange that some places you go in and out without connecting with anyone, but others – such as this site – you go in for 2 nights and end up hugging your neighbour when you leave, and waving to other neighbours you’ve chatted with.

On the way to the vet Tom Tom tried to take us under a 1.9m railway bridge so we decided to park up and walk. Lottie trotted along quite happily, even trotted into the vets but after 5 mins of looking around decided she didn’t want to be there and tried to get out the door as fast as she could. The vet spoke very good English, was lovely and it was all very relaxed, apart from Lottie trying to climb up my arm. She wouldn’t take the worm tablet with a treat so the vet opened a tin of dog food and let her lick it off her fingers before burying the tablet in a chunk of food on her fingers. Down it went. And a reasonable price. The vet was a good find for future trips.

Our last view of the Mediterranean

We had 190 miles to do, up into the Pyrenees, for our next campsite. The first 120 miles were motorway, then we stopped and I drove. It was easy going until the last 30 miles which were up around the mountains, hairpin bends, a few places where there was only room for one vehicle. Paul hates me driving and is a nervous wreck at the best of times when I’m in the driving seat but after a few miles of mountain roads he was clutching his seat, wiping his sweaty palms, giving sharp intakes of breath every now and then, watching the mirrors constantly to check I was in the correct road position and going whiter and whiter (which was quite a feat as he is so sun tanned).

But we made it to the campsite in one piece without hitting anyone/anything or having anyone hit us.

And what a campsite, it’s beautiful. It was recommended on Facebook and I’m not surprised, it’s in a fantastic setting of the mountains. The older gentleman on reception was friendly enough but when I asked him in Spanish if he spoke English the answer was a loud ‘no’. A bit later into the conversation, if you can call it that, I asked, in French, if he could speak French, but again – no. However I’m sure that I heard him say ‘nous partir’ (when you leave) when I took out my card to pay. 🤔

The bathrooms are amazing, all dark wood and big tiles, very Spanish, none of your Formica here.

Paul said he had a blinding headache and felt sick (from my driving no doubt 🤣) so I took Lottie for a walk along the river/stream below the campsite. I’d bought her some new balls at the vets (Kong balls, not cheap) so I took one with me. The path was wide and about 8 feet above the water with a very steep drop so I figured Lottie wouldn’t be going down that. Wrong. At the first gap in the vegetation she was off down the side of the river like a mountain goat, with the new ball in her mouth. The trouble is that as soon as she gets in the water she lets go of the ball. I’m at the top of the bank shouting ‘pick up the ball Lottie’, Lottie’s desperately trying to pick up the ball which is bobbing up and down in the water and going downstream. She’s following it downstream, I’m at the top of the bank shouting by now ‘leave the ball Lottie, just come back’. The water’s getting deeper and faster, Lottie’s got herself into the middle of the stream onto a rock and is looking at me helplessly with her big black eyes, I’m nearly crying, imagining her getting swept away. I decided to try calling her once more and if that didn’t work I would have to climb down the bank and get in myself.