Labs on the Road

Valdesalor, Vivar del Cid, Mios, Fontaines and Cherbourg. The stops on our journey through France. The plan was to enjoy some time meandering through France, but that was scuppered by yet another heat wave, meaning temperatures would be over 35C all the way to Cherbourg.

Months of planning, then re-planning when Jaffa joined us, were over. It was Saturday 19 August and the journey was about to start. We were ready to set off on time. For once. Then the garage door to the street wouldn’t shut. Panic set in. We were leaving very early in the morning as the forecast was for temperatures over 40C through the provinces of Seville and Badajoz. I couldn’t leave the door open for six weeks and it was a Saturday in summer. Too early to call the landlord and the manual override wouldn’t work. Or rather I had no idea how it worked. Luckily, my neighbour was working in his vegetable patch. He told me to leave the keys and remote control with him and he would talk to the landlord and get it sorted out. Told me to get on my way as it was important to get the dogs through the hottest part of the journey in the coolest hours of the day. It was so good of him as, strangely enough, we had only been on nodding terms before.

Three hours later we were in Valdesalor. Three hours of driving through the drought-scorched landscape, but at least Seville and Extremadura had avoided the worst of the wildfires this year. The traffic was much better than the previous year when we coincided with what seemed like most of France, Switzerland and Luxembourg returning at great speed from their holidays in Spain and Portugal.

Jaffa behaved perfectly in the car. The sunshades and air con were keeping Thai cool and comfortable. Everything was going much better than expected. Then one of the dogs licked my ear. I looked in the mirror and saw Goa moving from side to side across the back seat. She had managed to release herself from her harness and was looking so pleased with herself. She must have breathed out when I was putting the harness on. The only explanation as to why it had become so loose. Goa had got her way. She hates being buckled in using the seat belt. Safer but more restrictive. So she was back to using the D-ring extender. At least it meant I wasn’t risking a fine and points on my licence.

We discovered El Miajon de los Castúos in Valdesalor, just south of Cáceres, on our way back from the UK last summer. Eight comfortable rooms around a courtyard with a swimming pool, kitchen area and TV room. The same family run the village’s store, selling everything from cleaning products to the region’s famous paprika. It is open from 7 a.m. to 11.30 p.m. and also serves breakfast and snacks during the day. An ideal place to break the long journey through Spain or as a base to explore Cáceres and its province. I can’t recommend it highly enough for people travelling with pets.

Sayoa, the manager, had agreed to let us check in early because of the heat. She was delighted to see G&T again and meet Jaffa. After a quick lunch, the rest of the day was spent avoiding the heat in our air-conditioned room and then an evening walk around the village.

Jaffa’s first night in a hotel was a success. In fact, she adapted so well and coped with everything on the journey. I had added an extra night just in case she needed more time to get used to the adventure. It wasn’t necessary, but was easier on all of us as it meant that I could make sure we were only travelling in the cool of the morning.

We left Valdesalor and had a journey of just over four hours to Vivar del Cid near Burgos. In theory. It turned out to be nearer 5 hours as the traffic was really busy and long traffic jams because of the many road works.

I love the drive through the mountains in the north of Cáceres, followed by the huge skies and rolling landscapes of Castilla y León. I mean to return and really explore the area between Plasencia and Zamora each time I pass through. Maybe this winter.

We arrived in Vivar del Cid and the start of the worst experience of the trip. It was boiling hot and I had seen the last air conditioner in Extremadura. Not even a fan in most places.

The room was okay, but the hotel should have been called the Hotel of Rules. Instructions and lists of rules everywhere. Not very welcoming.

Being pet-friendly is fashionable in Spain. It has led to what I like to call pet-washing. Places that claim to be pet-friendly, but really are not. This was one of them. I should have been suspicious when I was asked if my dogs barked. I thought that meant dogs that bark at each and everything. Not just the odd bark when dogs are in very strange surroundings. When we got to the hotel, I discovered that I was supposed to make sure they were silent. Even outside the silence required of humans at night.

I don’t let my dogs on the beds or furniture when we are away. If I stay in an airbnb, I sweep/vac the floors to pick up the dog hair. If I stay in a hotel, I don’t. Mainly as most charge between €10 and €15 per dog as a cleaning fee and as they don’t provide brushes/vacuum cleaners. I didn’t expect to get a comment on airbnb about the amount of hair she had found. Anyway, there wasn’t that much as I had put down their travel beds.

Nobody forces hotels/holiday rentals to accept pets. I would never have booked if I had known what they expected from pet owners. Luckily, this has been my only negative experience when travelling with G&T over the past few years.

Goa was not impressed by no rooms on the ground floor and the lack of a lift. At least she was prepared to attempt the stairs. Just about. Fear of being left downstairs by herself meant she crawled up them on her belly.

Vivar del Cid is also the place where I had my worst meal in Spain in all my many years living there. The set menu was hugely overpriced at €25, but I was tired and hungry. It was getting to the end of the Spanish lunchtime and there wasn’t time to go into Burgos. Twenty-five euros for a very indifferent salad, the smallest sea bream I have ever seen – so small I thought it was a sardine – and lumpy custard.

It was too hot to explore, so back to the hot, stuffy hotel until it was cool enough for an evening stroll. The village’s claim to fame is being the birthplace of El Cid. A fact you cannot avoid.

Yet another early start. After about an hour, we were driving through rain and mist in the wooded mountains of the Basque Country. We reached the last petrol station before France and had to queue for nearly an hour to fill up. I would discover why once in France. Petrol was around €1.55 a litre in Spain, but over €2.00 at French service stations.

A sign by the roadside announced we were in France. The second stage of our journey was about to begin.