The Routes

Arriving in Barcelona. A New Chapter Begins The drive from Zaragoza to Barcelona was three hours of pure sunshine and open road. The kind of journey that reminds you why slow travel is its own form of therapy. The motorway stretched through wide landscapes, broken occasionally by the silhouette of the Toro de Osborne standing high on the hills like a quiet guardian of the Spanish plains. Windows down, warm air on my face, music playing… it felt like one long, beautiful exhale. I reached Barcelona early evening, just as the sky shifted into that soft dusk glow the city wears so well. After weaving through the wide avenues and tree-lined streets, I arrived at my Airbnb in Dreta de l’Eixample, perfectly placed for a 10-day stay.  Dreta de l’Eixample, my Barcelona Base Eixample is Barcelona at its best with wide boulevards, elegant facades, balconies overflowing with plants, cafes, bars and restaurants on every corner and neighbourhoods stitched together by walkable grid blocks.  From here, I could walk to almost everything; the Gothic Quarter, El Born, Gràcia, even Las Ramblas. It’s central without being chaotic and has that lived-in, everyday charm that makes you feel part of the city instead of just a visitor. The Airbnb itself felt like an instant reset with bright, spacious, high ceilings, beautiful tiles, personality, warmth and space for both me and Roly to properly settle. After weeks of aparthotels and hotel rooms, having a full apartment again felt grounding. A proper kitchen, a proper lounge, and a sense of “home” I didn’t realise I needed until I unlocked the door. A Personal Note I Feel Ready to Share I’d actually been to Barcelona once before in August, for my 40th birthday. The plan was simple and beautiful: celebrate this milestone in a city I’d always dreamed of visiting, surrounded by friends, good food, sunshine, and joy. But life had other plans. In the lead-up to the trip, a series of challenging emotional events collided all at once, and my body reacted in a way I had never experienced before. I went into a dissociative episode, something I didn’t even have the language for at the time. Medically, dissociation is described as a disconnection between thoughts, memories, surroundings, actions, and identity, often triggered by extreme stress or overwhelm. It’s the mind’s emergency brake, a protective mechanism that shuts everything down when the load becomes too heavy. In real life, for me, it meant I wasn’t fully there. I was in Barcelona, with people I loved, on a milestone birthday… but internally I felt numb, distant, almost watching my own life from the outside. It was frightening, confusing, and deeply painful, especially when you’ve envisioned this moment for so long. But I’m sharing this because it turned out to be a defining moment. It reminded me of the importance of boundaries, of listening to my body long before burnout arrives, and of not carrying emotional loads that aren’t mine to hold. I’m a natural empath, and I’ve learned sometimes the hard way that care without boundaries becomes self-abandonment. The build-up of too many emotional demands had pushed me past my capacity, and my body responded the only way it knew how: by shutting down. Since then, I’ve taken the time to understand myself more deeply. To rest. To reset. To rebuild routines that honour my mental and physical health first. And honestly, this entire European road trip The Next Route is part of that healing. Travel has a way of clearing mental fog. It deepens clarity, and shows you parts of yourself you didn’t realise were waiting to be seen. I’ve stepped off social media, slowed down, become more present, and in many ways, I feel the most grounded and authentic I’ve ever felt. And that’s why coming back to Barcelona mattered. It wasn’t just another stop. it was a chapter I needed to rewrite. A second chance to experience the joy, lightness, and magic that I didn’t get to feel the first time around. So as soon as I checked into my Airbnb this time, I didn’t waste a second. I got ready, put on something that made me fabulous, and headed straight out into the Saturday-night energy of the city to enjoy tapas, music, people, life buzzing everywhere. Barcelona, take two. And this time, I was fully here. Saturday Night in Barcelona. Tapas, Music, Drag Queens & Pure City Buzz After getting settled into my Airbnb and glamming up for my first proper Barcelona night out, I headed to meet a new local friend, the perfect way to ease into the city’s electric weekend energy. Stop 1: GATS (Las Ramblas) for Tapas, Cocktails & Warm Vibes We started the night at GATS, tucked just off Las Ramblas. It’s one of those spots that immediately feels inviting with soft lighting, lively chatter, stylish interiors, and major win fully dog-friendly indoors, so Roly joined the evening in true Barcelona fashion. We ordered a selection of tapas to share. Add in some cocktails and new conversations, and it set the tone for a memorable night. Stop 2: CHARLZZ Barcelona for a Live DJ, Red Lights & Drinks A short walk later, we arrived at Charlzz music hall, a live-music bar glowing in shades of red with chandeliers, velvet seating, and a moody, retro atmosphere. Inside, the DJ was playing Latino music, people were laughing, dancing, vibing and yes, Roly was welcome here too. It felt intimate but high-energy at the same time, the kind of bar where time disappears between songs. Stop 3: Ocaña, Plaça Reial for Drag, Nightlife & Barcelona Energy From there, we wandered over to Ocaña in Plaça Reial, a square known for its arched walkways, bustling restaurants, street performers, drag queens, artists, tourists, locals…  One of the drag performers working the square stopped to say hello. Inside, the atmosphere was warm and lively, the kind of place where you can sit for hours just soaking in the scene. Stop 4: Madame Jasmine for Neon Lights, Good Vibes & Queer Energy We ended the night at Madame Jasmine, a queer bar bursting with colour, music, personality and a crowd that felt beautifully eclectic. Neon lights, people dancing freely, cocktails flowing, and Roly happily taking it all in from my lap like the seasoned nightlife companion he’s becoming. It was vibrant and a fun final stop on a night that reminded me how alive Barcelona is. Sunday: Slow Wanders, Quiet Streets & Casa Lolea Tapas Sunday was a slower pace. I walked from Eixample toward Casa Lolea, a beautiful little tapas spot with an intimate, bistro-style vibe. The walk itself was a joy. As we got closer to El Born, the architecture tightened with slimmer alleyways, laundry hanging between balconies, warm terracotta walls, and that unmistakable beauty of the historic centre. Casa Lolea was warm and buzzing when I arrived. I ordered a glass of rosé and their tuna tartare. It was a simple lunch but it hit all the right notes. After eating, I wandered slowly back through the maze of streets, stopping at a bright, modern Asian supermarket out of curiosity.  Back in Eixample, the afternoon light bounced off the balconies and leafy trees, and the city felt calm in a way that only Sundays manage. It was the perfect reset day: light, slow, and exactly what I needed between Barcelona nights out. Monday in Barcelona: Vet Errands, Coffee Culture & Cosy Terraces Monday was one of those everyday-life travel days. First on the agenda: Roly’s health admin. I walked him over to Saluvet, a local veterinary pharmacy, to pick up flea and worm treatment. Super straightforward, friendly staff, and it felt good to tick off one of those practical tasks you always end up doing when you travel long-term with a dog. Roly trotted out proudly, medicine sorted, tail wagging like he’d just accomplished a major mission. From there, we wandered over to D. Origen Coffee Roasters, a cool, minimalist neighbourhood cafe filled with digital nomads tapping away on laptops. It had: great energy strong coffee big open windows the buzz of people creating things I settled in for a few hours of work, a productive, grounding pocket of time that balances out busy travel days. Later, I walked over to El Nacional, one of Barcelona’s most famous food halls. Inside, it was stunning with warm lighting, Christmas decorations, glowing bars, people sipping cava and eating under giant illuminated stars. But unfortunately… it's not dog friendly. So Roly and I admired the interior from the entrance before continuing on. Just around the corner from the beautiful Mercat de la Concepció, I found Casa Amàlia, a cosy Catalan restaurant that is dog friendly inside and outside. The terrace had a log burner glowing away, which instantly made it feel like a warm hug on a cool December afternoon. I ordered mussels in a coconut sauce with crusty sourdough. The staff were lovely, the food was delicious, and Roly curled up under the table like he owned the place. It was one of those lunches that reminds you why Barcelona is such a joy to live in for a little while. By the evening, I was ready for a quiet night in at the Airbnb. I ordered Caribbean from Joosy Gastro on Glovo (Spain’s Deliveroo equivalent), the perfect comfort food to end a full but gentle Monday. Tuesday: Gaudí, Wanders & a Banksy Afternoon I started Tuesday with Roly at one of Barcelona’s great architectural icons, Casa Milà (La Pedrera). The building ripples like stone waves. Standing underneath its sculpted balconies with Roly posing out front felt like one of those “I’m in Barcelona” moments". From there, we spent the morning wandering the Eixample streets. I did a bit of window shopping. For lunch, we walked over to Fa Patxoca, a casual local spot with outdoor tables and that cosy neighbourhood feel. I ordered gambas al ajillo, prawns simmered in garlic oil and a slice of pan con tomate on the side.  After lunch, I headed to the Banksy Museum. It was actually really cool to see some of his well-known pieces recreated full-scale. Roly came inside with me (another win for Barcelona’s dog-friendly energy) and just wandered through the rooms like it was the most normal thing in the world. He sniffed around, watched people, and seemed genuinely curious about everything. We finished by walking up the stencilled staircase, Roly leading the way, and stepped back out into the daylight around an hour after exploring, feeling like it was a fun little detour. Interesting, easy, and worth the stop. On the way back, I stopped for a drink at Café del Centre, one of the oldest cafes in the city. Sitting there with a glass of whiskey, people-watching, felt like the perfect way to ease into the evening. Wednesday: Work Day & a Wind-Down Drink at Sway Soul Lounge Wednesday was a full work-from-home day with the laptop out, coffee on repeat, Roly snoozing in different corners of the apartment like a little remote-work colleague. By the time early evening rolled around, I needed a change of scenery, so I wandered over to Sway Soul Lounge, a low-lit cocktail bar not too far from my Airbnb. Melrose Café: The Most Cheerful Start to a Thursday On Thursday morning I wandered over to Melrose Café, which is basically a pink dreamhouse turned brunch spot with all pink interiors, flower walls and neon signs. It’s fully dog-friendly, so Roly had the time of his life being fussed over by the staff while I ordered breakfast. The food was really good, and the team were so warm and welcoming. It was the kind of place where you can sit for a while, sip your coffee, and just enjoy the vibe of being surrounded by fifty shades of pink. Roly approved. The rest of the day, I just wandered with no real plan letting the side streets, cafes and little moments guide me. In the evening, I ended up having drinks on the terrace below my apartment, where I got chatting to a local Spanish couple who were also out with their adorable rescue dog. It was a simple, relaxed end to the day, and one of those small travel moments that makes a place feel familiar. Friday: Sunshine, Art, and a Little Barcelona Magic I started the morning at La Sagrada Família, which feels even more dramatic in person than in photos. With the newest towers rising, it’s now set to become the tallest church in Europe, and you can really feel that vertical pull when you’re standing beneath it with all those gorgeous Gaudí details climbing towards the sky. I wandered through the Christmas market outside and stopped at a small artist’s stall, where I ended up chatting with the woman who ran it. She was warm and full of stories, and I loved the colours in her work, so I bought a piece to take home. A little slice of Barcelona to have back in the UK with me. After that, Roly and I found a bench in the park beside the basilica and sat in the sun for a while, just soaking up the atmosphere. On the walk back to the Airbnb, I stopped at a cafe with a terrace for a late breakfast and a glass of cava, the perfect way to ease into the afternoon. Saturday: Sunshine, Tapas, and an Evening with Barcelona Saturday started with lunch at Bar Betlem, where I met a new local friend. We sat outside on the terrace, sharing tapas in the sun and chatting. It was easy, light, and very Barcelona. By the evening, I wandered through the city with the Christmas lights switched on above the streets. The whole place felt festive with bright Catalan phrases hanging over the road, people out strolling, that cosy December buzz. I ended the night at Casa Boney, eating at the bar with a view straight into the open kitchen. I ordered steak tartare and tagliolini aglio olio e peperoncino with cockles. It was one of those pleasant solo evenings where you don’t need a plan; the city just carries you along. Sunday: A Long Walk, A Missed Cable Car & A Perfect Beach Ending For our final full day in Barcelona, I decided we’d walk from the Airbnb all the way up to Avinguda Miramar to take the cable cars over the city. It took just over an hour but it was warm, almost summer-like, and the walk itself felt like part of the day rather than a means to an end. We passed cafes opening for brunch, and one of Gaudí’s other masterpieces: Casa Batlló, its mosaic facade glowing in the morning sun. Even though I’ve seen it before, it still stops you in your tracks with those bone-like balconies, the wavy lines, the colours shifting with the light. A small moment of Barcelona magic on the way. When we finally reached the cable cars, we found out they weren’t dog-friendly. Slight anticlimax, but honestly, it didn’t feel like a loss. By that point the sky was bright blue, the day was unfolding gently, and it felt like we were already exactly where we needed to be. So instead, we rerouted. I grabbed lunch at Anardi, a Basque restaurant where I had prawns marinated so perfectly I could’ve ordered a second plate. Roly sat under the table like the sweetest little travel companion. After that, we jumped in a cab and headed to Barceloneta Beach, a place I’d spent time last summer, and somewhere I was excited to revisit, especially with Roly. The beach wasn’t crowded the way it is in peak season, which made it even better. Roly ran straight for the water, absolutely living his best life, swimming and splashing. I sat at a beach restaurant with a glass of wine, letting the sun warm my face while watching the waves and the people and the city just… exist. It felt grounding. A small, quiet moment of reflection before the next part of the journey. Honestly, it was the perfect way to end the trip. A Closing Reflection: Barcelona, Again But Different Coming back to Barcelona felt healing in a quiet way. The first time I was here, everything was overwhelming. I was physically present but emotionally elsewhere navigating dissociation, missing moments that should’ve felt joyful, and barely able to absorb where I was. This second visit felt like reclaiming the city for myself. I walked the same streets but felt entirely different in them. More grounded, more present, calmer, clearer. There were flashes of sadness remembering what I’d missed, but also gratitude. Returning allowed me to rewrite those memories with new ones that felt lighter and more aligned with who I am now. Barcelona gave me warmth, clarity, movement, connection, solitude, creativity, and pockets of joy stitched throughout the week. All of it mattered. Next stop: Valencia, a new city, new food, new beaches, new energy… and another chapter for me and my little co-pilot.

Crossing Into Pamplona on a Sunny Sunday The drive from San Sebastián to Pamplona was short, just over an hour, but honestly one of the most beautiful stretches I’ve seen so far on the route. The sun was out in full force, that perfect, warm November light and the mountains rose around the motorway like a painted backdrop.  I first heard about Pamplona from a food vendor I met in La Rochelle who sold Iberian ham. Most people know Pamplona for the Running of the Bulls San Fermín, which is every July. It’s a festival that brings thousands from all over the world to watch (or run!) a centuries-old tradition through the streets of Casco Viejo. But outside of festival season? The city is quiet, walkable, and a peaceful reset in between routes.  Where I Stayed: My First Aparthotel, Kora Kiliki  Pamplona was my first aparthotel stay of the entire European road trip, and oh my gosh, it changed everything.  Kora Kilikí is a modern, beautifully designed aparthotel in Lezkairu, one of Pamplona’s newest neighbourhoods. Think clean streets, young professionals walking dogs, trendy cafes with laptop-friendly terraces and fresh bakeries. The aparthotel blended: co-living energy co-working areas a full gym (my room was right next to it, perfect for accountability) a rooftop with incredible views your own private studio with a kitchen, balcony, and mountain views Kora Kilikí Manifesto  Our lifestyle and travel habits shape our understanding of the world. Some will cover hundreds of miles just to visit what is expected. And then, there are free spirits: people who live their lives in discovery and, in every trip, discover life itself. At Kora, we are inspired by them. We are a team of enthusiasts that don’t settle for the usual, but instead live up to our dream of creating spaces for those like us who don’t. Spaces designed not just to stay at, but for you to connect to people, to values, to the environment. Spaces where moments, ideas, and hopes are shared. To where you may arrive alone but feel embraced, where you may get lost only to find yourself. From where you may leave after one night or after a whole year, and either way, let your footprint remain, or let ours be imprinted on you. Because at Kora, the choice is yours. It summed up exactly why Pamplona, and this stay in particular, felt so grounding. After weeks of movement, Kora gave me something rare on the road: routine without restriction, comfort without stagnation, and a sense of belonging without obligation. Sunday Night in Pamplona: Bulls, Stone Streets & First Impressions On my first night in Pamplona, I headed straight out to explore the Old Town. Casco Viejo feels especially atmospheric at night and everything feels layered with history. It’s impossible to walk far without being reminded of Pamplona’s most famous tradition: the Running of the Bulls. You see it everywhere; silhouettes of bulls, statues frozen mid-charge, countdown clocks ticking towards the next San Fermín, even small religious niches built into walls, watching over the streets.  I passed the monument to Ernest Hemingway, who helped immortalise Pamplona through his writing, and later stood in front of the Ayuntamiento, imagining these same streets packed shoulder to shoulder every July.  It felt like seeing Pamplona in its in-between state not the festival version, but the real one. Calm, grounded, and deeply proud of its traditions. Sunshine, Mountains & A Calm Rhythm I woke up to bright blue skies, mountains lined up on the horizon and the city already moving below. Sunlight poured straight into the room, the kind that instantly puts you in a better mood. Roly took up his usual post by the balcony doors, alert and curious, surveying everything like he was clocking the neighbourhood. It felt like a proper reset moment. Clear-headed, grounded, and ready to get going. Exploring Pamplona by Day: Pintxos, Plazas & Local Energy I headed out from Lezkairu and made my way toward the centre, passing wide avenues that slowly tighten into older streets as you approach Casco Viejo.  Pamplona during the day is quietly buzzing. Locals popping into bakeries, friends meeting for coffee that turns into wine, pintxo bars already setting up for the afternoon crowd. I wandered through Plaza del Castillo, the city’s social heart, where cafes spill out onto the square and everyone seems to know someone. The beauty of Pamplona is that it doesn’t feel curated for visitors. It feels lived-in. Authentic. Pamplona might be best known for the festival once a year but the rest of the time, it’s all about balance. Market Stops, Seafood Obsessions & Cooking In Food shopping became part of my routine in Pamplona. The fish counters were full of giant prawns, fresh fillets and octopus. This is where staying in an aparthotel really paid off. Instead of hunting for a table at a restaurant, I took the best bits home. After days of eating out, cooking felt less like effort and more like a small luxury, grounding, satisfying, and exactly what I needed. It’s not the kind of moment that makes a flashy itinerary, but it’s the kind that stays with you. Good food, your own space, and that rare feeling of not just passing through a place, but briefly belonging. The Days That Followed: Work, Workouts & Wandering Pamplona isn’t a packed itinerary city. It’s more of a live well for a few days city. My routine became: Morning sunshine spilling into the room Roly’s walk through Lezkairu’s wide boulevards Hours of focused work from either my apartment or the communal areas Gym sessions that made me feel human again Evenings cooking or enjoying in a restaurant  Understanding Pamplona: The Neighbourhoods Pamplona is small but layered. Every area has its own personality: Casco Viejo (Old Town) I  Historic, full of pintxo bars and plazas. This is where the Running of the Bulls happens Primer Ensanche I Elegant streets, early 20th-century architecture, cafes, shops Segundo Ensanche I More modern, grid-style, calm and residential Lezkairu (where I stayed) I Modern, clean, young, safe, dog-friendly, full of cafes. A peaceful base only 10–15 minutes from Old Town. Iturrama I Trendy, student-friendly, sociable San Juan I  Local, lived-in, authentic Rochapea I Across the river, green and affordable Mendillorri I Spacious, park-filled, great for longer stays Eating, Exploring & Little Pamplona Highlights Pamplona’s food scene isn’t flashy, it’s authentic. A few stops I found worth making a detour for: El Horno de la Estafeta - good for grabbing pastries in the heart of the Old Town.  Akari Gastroteka - dishes that blend tradition and modern flair. Sit down for a relaxed lunch or early dinner with some wine.  Pescadería La Kontxa and Iruña Fruits - two great stops if you’re shopping for fresh produce or seafood.  Malafú a lively, modern restaurant. Across the city you’re never far from things worth seeing between bites. Strolling through the Old Town, you’ll find historic landmarks like the Plaza de Castillo, a central square that doubles as a favourite meeting point for locals and visitors alike.  Nearby, the Pamplona Cathedral and the old city walls and citadel. And of course, you can trace bits of the Running of the Bulls route through the cobbled streets around town. Even outside festival season it’s fascinating to see where history so vividly meets today’s pace of life.  Notes From The Road: Pamplona Edition Pamplona taught me that slower stops matter just as much as scenic ones, that comfort and routine can be a travel luxury, that good accommodation changes everything when you’re living on the road, that a city doesn’t need to be busy to be beautiful.

Crossing the Border Into San Sebastián, Spain  After a scenic drive from Biarritz, with a brief detour through the coastal town of Saint-Jean-de-Luz, I crossed seamlessly into Spain. There’s no official border here, no checkpoints, no queues, just a subtle shift. French road signs became Spanish, sortie turned to salida, and the Basque coastline rolled on uninterrupted. The drive took under an hour, following winding coastal roads framed by green hills and ocean views. It was one of those routes that feels effortless, music playing, windows cracked open, sea air drifting in. Arrival in San Sebastián By early evening, I reached Hotel Avenida, my base for the next few days. It’s tucked into Antiguo, a leafy neighborhood near Ondarreta Beach, on the western edge of the city.  The area feels local and lived-in. Unlike the busier Old Town, Antiguo moves at its own pace. Mornings begin with the smell of fresh coffee and pastries wafting from cafes, while evenings are for walks along the promenade or watching the sunset from Monte Igueldo, the hill that rises just behind the hotel. One of the first things you notice here: Spaniards eat late. Dinner service doesn’t even begin until 7:30 or 8 PM, a big shift after weeks of French dining hours starting at 6PM. After a month of movement from Rouen to Rennes, Nantes to La Rochelle, Bordeaux to the beaches of Biarritz, it felt like an exciting new chapter to welcome to Spain. 🇪🇸 Wednesday. Sunrise, Old Town & Tapas Worth Traveling For I woke up to a golden sunrise spilling through my window, the kind that gives you instant gratitude. The mountains framed the horizon in soft blues and streaks of orange and yellow stretched across the sky. From my room at Hotel Avenida, I could see the sunlight slowly warming the rooftops of Antiguo, a spectacular start to the day. By mid-morning, I drove the 15 minutes into San Sebastián’s Old Town (Parte Vieja) a maze of narrow cobbled streets, and pintxo bars packed shoulder-to-shoulder. It’s one of the most historic quarters in the Basque Country, rebuilt in the 19th century after a fire and now alive with the buzz of daily life: locals chatting over wine, tourists taking photographs, and the smell of tapas drifting through the alleys. I wandered aimlessly for a while, taking it all in, the mix of old and new, classic facades beside sleek boutiques, and that unmistakable upbeat vibe of a city that loves to eat. Lunch was at La Cuchara de San Telmo. There’s no formal seating here, just a lively bar counter where you stand to order and eat. Behind it, an open kitchen buzzes with energy, plates sliding down the counter the moment they’re ready. I ordered duck, squid, and a local Basque cider. Each dish was perfectly cooked, and full of flavour. Standing there, surrounded by chatter, clinking glasses, and the scent of sizzling fresh food, I thought: this is Spain at its best; unpretentious, soulful, and utterly delicious.    After lunch, I wandered toward the port of San Sebastian, where boats were docked in the bay and mountains in view in the distance. It was a picturesque spot to take a call. Unfortunately, halfway through the call, the rain arrived, so I ducked into Atari Gastroteka, a cosy spot opposite the church. I ordered a glass of white wine and beef cheek tapas, the kind of comfort food that makes rain feel like a second thought. Two English travellers sitting nearby struck up conversation, and soon we were swapping travel stories over tapas.  When the rain eased, I wandered again through Old Town’s narrow streets and stumbled upon La Zaragozana Pastelería Heladería, where a waitress handed me a sample of Basque cheesecake. One bite and I was hooked. It was creamy, caramelised perfection. I ordered a full slice, grabbed a coffee, and set up there for an hour of work while the world buzzed outside. By evening, I headed back to the hotel for a work meeting and then headed out again for dinner now after the 7:30PM Spanish dinner schedule. I drove to Trikuharri Jatetxea, a cosy restaurant near my hotel. Dinner was grilled prawns followed by a beef dish, both beautifully cooked and full of that Basque depth of flavour. I returned to the hotel full, content, and ready to rest. The perfect end to a day that had everything: good food, good people, and a city that keeps unfolding new layers with every turn. Thursday. Beach Walks, Basque Tapas & Slowing Down The next morning, I stayed local, starting with a walk down to Playa de Ondarreta, the nearest beach to my hotel, about ten minutes downhill and then left from Hotel Avenida.  Roly trotted happily beside me, darting toward the shore to chase the tide. We walked the length of the beach, passing joggers, swimmers, and fellow dog owners out for their morning ritual. Roly, of course, couldn’t resist, he went straight in for a swim, tail wagging, completely in his element. By lunchtime, around 2PM (which here counts as early), I stopped at M. Martín Jatetxea, a local favourite just a short walk away. I ordered tapas, the cod was the standout perfectly seasoned and cooked to melt-in-the-mouth perfection. I set up my laptop and worked from there for the next couple of hours. Later, I returned to the hotel to catch up on more client work before venturing back out for dinner. By evening, the weather had turned; rain poured down in steady sheets, so I decided to drive back toward the same neighbourhood near M. Martín. I first stopped at another restaurant called Kapela Taberna, where the service was non existent. After waiting twenty minutes on a table with no sign of a drink order, I took it as a sign and left. A short walk around the corner brought me right back to M. Martín Jatetxea and honestly, on this occassion I didn’t mind doubling up. Their lunch had been so good, and the staff so lovely, that returning felt like the right choice. Dinner was octopus and a prawn dish, both beautifully cooked and paired with a glass of local wine. Wine here isn’t an indulgence; it’s a way of life, part of every meal, a Spanish ritual in itself. Locals sip slowly, savour the moment, and smile easily. There’s a lightness in the Basque way of living that feels very different from the British pace I’m used to. After dinner, I headed back to the hotel, full and content, the sound of rain still pattering against the windows. Another quietly perfect day in San Sebastián. Friday. Surf Vibes, Sunshine & Gros Energy Friday was all about exploring Gros, San Sebastián’s effortlessly cool surf neighbourhood across the river from the old town. It’s my kind of place; creative, laid-back, and full of that easy, go-with-the-flow energy that feels distinctly local. I parked near Zurriola Beach, the beating heart of Gros. A wide, golden stretch framed by surf schools, restaurants, and board shops. It’s the kind of place where mornings begin barefoot and wetsuits half-zipped. I wandered through the neighbourhood, including Peña y Goñi Kalea, Gros’ lively central street lined with tapas bars and boutiques, perfect for people-watching. By early afternoon, the sun was high and the vibe infectious. Roly and I made our way back to Zurriola Beach, where he darted in and out of the waves while surfers carved along the breaks. The mix of locals and travellers gave the area an effortless authenticity like everyone was moving to the same mellow rhythm. Later, I stopped at Bar Kbzon Haundi, a dog-friendly restaurant and bar just off the seafront, for a glass of local cider and a few tapas dishes. The food was incredible!! Basque cuisine just keeps outdoing itself. Every bite here feels like it’s been made with passion and pride. By sunset, Gros had completely won me over between the waves, the warmth, and that surf-town ease that makes you lose track of time in the best possible way. Saturday. Rain, Sunshine & Gros, Again Rain or not, I wasn’t about to waste a Saturday in San Sebastián. So, while the skies poured and the streets glistened, I bundled up Roly, and made a return to Gros, my new favourite neighbourhood and the perfect place to spend a day that refused to be ordinary. I wandered in and out of boutique shops including RAW Vintage, stacked with retro denim and streetwear gems while Roly made friends with everyone in sight. There’s an easy friendliness here, a city that feels stylish without trying. For lunch, I stopped at Apu Mar, a Peruvian restaurant with bold colours, neon energy, and an upbeat vibe that instantly lifted the grey skies. I ordered ceviche and a piña colada,a little sunshine in a bowl and glass. By the time I stepped back outside, the rain had passed and Gros was glowing in the sun. I walked along the Urumea River, the sunlight bouncing off the water and I stopped at a beauty salon for a manicure, a small reset after a full travel week. As evening settled, I ended the day at Aitana Donostia, tucked into the lively heart of Gros. I ordered pintxos and wine, as you do here, perfectly portioned bites of joy served with that warm, easy Basque hospitality.  Another heartwarming day. Gros really is that kind of place, even on a grey day, it finds a way to shine. Sunday. Sunshine, Cheesecake & the Last Glimpse of San Sebastián Sunday started with sunshine pouring through the window and mountain views stretching out in front of me. It felt calm and golden, one of those mornings you don’t want to rush. I sat in bed enjoying my leftover Basque cheesecake for breakfast (honestly, not a bad way to start the day) before heading down to the hotel garden. The garden at Hotel Avenida has this peaceful energy, and a pool that catches the light just right. Roly ran around the grass while I caught up on a bit of work from the outdoor seating, laptop open, sunshine on my face.  By midday, I loaded up the car, checked out, and decided to spend my last few hours near Ondarreta before the hour’s drive to Pamplona.  Lunch was at Restaurante Kalaberri, tucked into the streets near the beach. The food as always in San Sebastián, was outstanding. I ordered seafood tapas, steak and a glass of white wine, all perfectly fresh and full of flavour. It was the kind of meal that quietly wraps up a trip, simple, satisfying, and exactly what it needed to be. After lunch, I took one last slow walk through the streets, then it was time to hit the road. Roly in the back, music on, sunshine spilling through the windows. 💌 A Note from the Road San Sebastián was my first taste of Spain on this trip and what a welcome. From the calm mornings in Antiguo to surf afternoons in Gros, the vibe here is unhurried but full of life. Meals stretch long, wine flows easily, and people engage and talk to you. I loved the contrast of it all, the golden light, the sea air, the balance between city buzz and beach calm. Every corner felt like it belonged to someone who genuinely enjoys where they live. It reminded me why I chose this journey in the first place: to slow down, to savour, to keep discovering places that make you feel something. Spain already feels different, warmer, slower, louder in the best way. And after a week in San Sebastián, I’m ready for the road ahead. Next stop: Pamplona. 

Leaving Bordeaux behind, I drove three hours southwest to Anglet, a coastal gem nestled between Bayonne and Biarritz, just 40 minutes from the Spanish border. I arrived at my Airbnb in Anglet, a stylish ground-floor apartment with a private terrace, secure parking, and modern coastal décor. Think warm lighting, soft neutrals, and bohemian touches that make it feel instantly like home.  Anglet has this calm, quietly cool energy with wide beaches, independent surf shops, and locals who seem to have mastered the art of balance. It’s coastal living with a creative edge. The perfect last French stop before I head into Spain. Friday. Arrival in Anglet After the drive, I took Roly for a short walk around the block, to stretch our legs. Dinner was a low-key takeaway night, a chance to reset after the drive and settle into the new space. Saturday. Harbour Lunch & Beach Walks Saturday was for exploring. I drove into Biarritz’s Old Harbour, and explored the cobbled streets that wind between quirky boutiques, surf shops, lively restaurants and cafés. I had lunch at Chistera et Coquillages, a local favourite serving French–Basque tapas. I ordered two dishes; steak and squid, both marinated and cooked to perfection. After lunch, Roly and I walked down to Plage du Port Vieux, a small, sheltered cove tucked between cliffs, and then continued along the path to Grande Plage, the city’s main beach. He wasted no time jumping in for a swim while I sat and watched the waves roll in. On the walk back, I stopped at Crêperie Bleue de Toi for a post-lunch crêpe, then wandered through Biarritz’s maze of independent shops before heading back to Anglet. The rest of the day was chilled with some client work, Netflix (hello Selling Sunset), and an easy night in. Sunday. Market Finds & Sunshine Sunday morning started at Marché de Quintaou, Anglet’s weekly food market. It's a lively maze of stalls where locals greet vendors by name and the air is filled with the smell of freshly cooked food and cheerful chatter. I wandered between stalls piled high with local produce, tasting cheese, cured meats, and a baguette, trading smiles and small talk with stall owners who kindly overlooked my broken French. It was the perfect start to the day before heading back to the Airbnb. I spent the afternoon catching up on client work from the terrace. The sun was out, music played softly in the background, and for a few hours, everything just felt still. Monday. A Date to Remember Monday was mostly a workday; laptop, sunshine, terrace, repeat until evening rolled around. I met Antoine, a Canadian from Quebec, along the Côte des Basques beachfront.  We wandered aimlessly through Biarritz’s cobbled streets, talking about travel, life, and everything in between, before finding a wine bar tucked into a narrow lane. The kind of spot that feels like it’s been there forever, dimly lit, warm, and full of character. Dinner was at Haragia, a steakhouse where they bring the cut of meat to your table before cooking it to perfection. Antoine and I shared a bottle of white, medium-rare steak, and conversation that flowed easily into laughter. Roly got a few bites of steak too (of course).  By the end of the evening, we’d made friends with the owner and two guys there on business. Once everyone had finished their meals, we all ended up at the bar next door to continue the night with more drinks, more stories, more laughter. It was one of those nights that reminded me why I love to travel, the serendipity of it all: new places, great food, and the kind of connection you can’t plan for. Tuesday. Sunshine, Errands & a Coastal Farewell Check-out day began with a few practical errands. First stop: an Amazon collection box in town (a lifesaver when you’re constantly on the move), followed by Anglet Auto Service Motrio, where the team kindly topped up my car oil ahead of the next leg of the journey. Quick, friendly, and genuinely helpful. With a few hours to spare before my check-in across the border, I drove to Plage d’Anglet. The weather couldn’t have been better, 23°C, full sunshine, and that crisp  breeze that makes you want to linger just a little longer. Roly splashed in the surf, tail wagging, while I sat back on the sand, letting the sound of the ocean melt away the last of my to-do list. There’s something about the Atlantic that feels cleansing; wild, rhythmic, and steady all at once. Along the promenade, I stopped for lunch at À Table, a local spot with a sunny terrace and the kind of friendly owner who makes you feel instantly at home. I ordered a creamy prawn risotto topped with melted cheese, my “last lunch in France” moment and ended up chatting with the owner about my year-long European road trip. She was fascinated and insisted I visit Saint-Jean-de-Luz, just 30 minutes drive south, calling it “the perfect blend of France and Spain.” A Stop in Saint-Jean-de-Luz I took the restaurant owners advice, and she was right. The short drive from Biarritz to Saint-Jean-de-Luz felt like crossing between worlds. The scenery shifted subtly between French charm giving way to Spanish architecture. In Saint-Jean-de-Luz, I wandered through boutiques, bakeries, and shops before finding myself at the harbour, where I grabbed a table at Le Suisse Brasserie & Café. With my laptop open and the sun on my face, I caught up on work emails, a perfect balance of work and wander. Onward to Spain From Saint-Jean-de-Luz, it was a smooth half-hour drive into San Sebastián. There's no border crossings, no passport checks, just a shift in language and rhythm as France faded quietly into Spain. That’s the beauty of the Schengen Agreement, it allows free movement across most of Europe, so driving from France into Spain feels as seamless as crossing into a neighbouring town. One minute you’re hearing bonjour, the next it’s hola. There was something poetic about how simple it was. One continuous coastline, one endless sense of movement. 💌 Why I Loved Biarritz (and Anglet) Biarritz and Anglet were everything I needed to close out my month in France with coastal calm, surf energy, beach walks, market mornings, and unexpected connections over wine. This part of France was both grounding and alive, elegant yet laid-back, where surfboards lean against art galleries, and strangers still stop to say bonjour. As I drove toward Spain, I felt deeply grateful. This was the perfect finale to the northern chapter of my French route. Though I’ll return to explore the south later, this stretch of coastline will always mark the true beginning of the adventure. Merci beaucoup, France. Now onto the next route San Sebastián. 🇪🇸

Saturday. Arrival in Bordeaux I arrived in Bordeaux on a Saturday afternoon around 2:30PM after a smooth three-hour drive from La Rochelle. My Airbnb was perfectly placed in Chartrons, the city’s creative heart at Rue Ramonet, complete with a hot tub and that understated cool that instantly makes you think, yep, I could live here. As luck would have it, I’d landed right in the middle of La Fête du Vin Nouveau et de la Brocante, a street festival celebrating wine, food, vintage finds, and music. The whole neighbourhood was buzzing: live bands on every corner, the scent of food drifting through the air, and locals in their most stylish “just threw this on” outfits wove through the crowd. Before I could dive into the fun, there was the small matter of check-in. With the roads closed for the festival, I had to park a few streets away and make several luggage runs through the crowd with Roly trotting the streets like he already owned the place. Once everything was inside the airbnb, I moved the car to Citi Parking (five minutes away), and returned to join the party. The streets were alive wirh music drifting between cafés, bars, restaurants and laughter spilling from every corner. I wandered through the stalls, watching locals dance and chat, wine in hand and not a care in the world. Still a little tender from my night out in La Rochelle the evening before, I decided to take it slow. I grabbed a baguette from Boulangerie Au Pétrin Moissagais, wandered past the overflowing bars of Chartrons, and ended the night with a slow walk home. Sunday. Riverfront Mornings & Festival Vibes Sunday started with soft light spilling through the shutters. Just five minutes from my door is the Quai des Chartrons, a wide riverside promenade along the Garonne. The Marché des Quais was in full swing: stalls piled high with cheese, oysters, fish, meats and the likes. Roly and I followed the river all the way to Place de la Bourse, where the iconic fountain shimmered against the mirror pool. The city was electric with runners, families, and pink shirts everywhere for Bordeaux’s annual breast cancer charity run. Easily the most alive Sunday I’ve seen in France. Lunch was at Suzette Crêperie Urbaine, with a savoury galette, followed by a glass of wine on an outside terrace. After I headed back to Chartrons and enjoyed dangerously good pastries from Paola Pâtisserie (zero regrets).  The afternoon faded back into the rhythm of the festival with live music, vintage stalls, and wine flowing freely for day two of the celebrations. Dinner was at Osteria Pizzeria Da Bartolo, where I ordered seafood linguine and ended up chatting with a brother-and-sister duo at the next table. Pierre was a Bordeaux local, and his sister was visiting from Biarritz. Pierre shared travel tips for Spain, which I scribbled down between chats and sips of wine. The kind of night that reminds you why solo travel never really feels solo. Monday. River Runs, Groomers & Good Energy Monday kicked off with a jog along the Garonne, tracing the waterfront through Chartrons. Even under grey skies, the view was beautiful with soft light on the river. Roly and I ran about 4K, splashing through puddles alongside other early-morning joggers who, like me, couldn’t care less about the rain. Afterwards, I stopped by La P'tite Boulangerie Notre-Dame, my go-to boulangerie near my airbnb, for the daily ritual, a fresh baguette. I returned to the apartment and made myself breakfast and a dirty chai latte, fuel for a productive morning of client work. In the afternoon, Roly had his grooming appointment at Pattes de Velours, where the team greeted him like an old friend. While he got pampered, I treated myself to a massage at Le Royaume Thaï, one blissful hour that reset my whole body. Honestly, it was 10/10 from start to finish. With time to spare before Roly pickup, I stopped for a glass of white wine at SAS Le Wiz, with tables spilling onto the pavement. I sat outside, people-watching and waving back at friendly locals who honked or smiled as they passed. That easy, open warmth is exactly what I love about this neighbourhood. When I picked up Roly, he looked beyond cute; fresh, fluffy, and full of post-spa confidence. Back at the Airbnb, I finished a few last client tasks and meetings, cooked sirloin steak with potatoes and broccoli, and later unwound. A perfect Monday, equal parts productive and peaceful. Tuesday. Quiet Streets & Hot Tub Evenings By Tuesday, Chartrons had shifted back to its usual calm after the weekend buzz. With the festival packed away, it felt good to explore the neighbourhood at my own pace, no crowds, just the quiet hum of everyday life. I wandered in and out of the independent shops that line Rue Notre-Dame and Rue du Faubourg des Arts, both full of creative boutiques, vintage finds, and local makers. I picked up a small Bordeaux wall print, a keepsake for the road before heading back to the Airbnb for a full day of client work. It was one of those deep-focus days with my laptop and music playlists, the digital nomad flow in full swing. By evening, I ordered Indian takeaway from Indian Nepali Swad (comfort food, done right) and, to top off the night, sank into the Airbnb’s hot tub. After a long workday, it was the perfect mix of productivity and pause. Perfection.  Wednesday. Shopping Streets, Salon Days & City Buzz By midweek, Bordeaux was in full swing again. I walked from Chartrons into the city centre, weaving through Rue Sainte-Catherine, Bordeaux’s main shopping street and one of the longest in Europe. Lunch was at Rishi, a relaxed spot perfect for a quick bite before a little retail therapy. I popped into Sephora and left with a new red lipstick, bold and chic because sometimes, you just need a midweek confidence boost. Next stop: a hair appointment, followed by a spontaneous cider and work session at SARL Arlu, a laid-back pub where I set up my laptop and caught up on emails between sips. As the evening rolled in, I wandered back toward Chartrons and stopped for dinner at Bistrot Maurice, a local favourite. This was the kind of day that blended errands, self-care, and city life into one long, satisfying stretch. Thursday. Sunshine, Therapy & A Perfect Final Day My last full day in Bordeaux began with a run along the Garonne River, the sun rising over the water and music in my ears. It was one of those golden mornings that make you feel like you’re exactly where you’re meant to be. Back at the Airbnb, I had my weekly therapy session, something that keeps me grounded while living on the move and then spent the late morning packing up before check-out. With the weather too good to ignore, I headed downtown and grabbed a table outside Le Mascaron, a restaurant overlooking the centre. The food was incredible, perfectly seasoned, fresh, and paired with a chilled glass of wine. Live music played in the square, the sun was warm, and I worked from my laptop between courses, one of those dreamy digital nomad moments that actually live up to the idea. In the evening, I met a local friend for drinks at Le Molly Malone, a lively pub with great energy and even better people-watching. I ended the night back at the Airbnb, soaking in the hot tub. The perfect goodbye before the next stop Biarritz. Friday. A Calm Morning in Bastide & The Road to Biarritz Before hitting the road, I crossed the river to explore Bastide, a quieter, more residential side of Bordeaux.  I started the morning at French Kiss Café, a bright, buzzy spot filled with digital nomads tapping away on laptops, chatting over coffee, or half-dozing between deadlines. The atmosphere had that gentle creative chaos, part coworking, part community. I ordered a dirty chai latte (made to perfection), set up my workspace, and let a couple of productive hours drift by. Roly, meanwhile, was in full social mode, weaving between tables, collecting strokes and smiles like tips. You could feel the shared digital camaraderie in the room, a mix of freelancers, founders and daydreamers all doing their thing. Afterwards, we headed to Le Calixte for lunch, a local favourite. I ordered the homemade lasagna, hearty and comforting, the perfect “last supper” before my three-hour drive to Biarritz. Bastide had this peaceful, restorative energy, the perfect palate cleanser after a week of wine, festivals, and riverside runs. 💌 A Note from the Road Bordeaux had it all; creative energy, riverside calm, and the kind of social warmth that lingers. From mornings at the market to nights in the hot tub, from chai lattes to runs, this city made me feel both inspired and at ease. It’s the kind of place that balances equal parts sophistication and soul and I know I’ll be back to explore more. Next stop: Biarritz for surf vibes, sunsets, and the start of the Basque chapter.

Tuesday. Arrival in the Rain Leaving Nantes behind, I drove southwest toward La Rochelle, a two hour route that gradually traded urban traffic for stretches of open countryside and salty coastal air. My Airbnb was tucked away on Rue des Gonthières, in a quiet residential pocket near Saint-Éloi, about a 25-minute walk from the centre. By evening, the sky opened up with torrential rain pounding the streets that made unloading the car a small adventure in itself. I took Roly for a quick (and very wet) loop around the block before retreating back inside for warmth and a takeaway dinner from a nearby Chinese restaurant called Asian food. Wednesday. Markets, Pancakes & Cooking Again The next morning the weather redeemed itself with blue breaks in the clouds, sunlight spilling over the rooftops. Roly and I set out on foot toward the city centre, passing boulangeries and Parc Charruyer, where trees arched over winding paths and the park buzzed gently with runners and dog walkers. I started the day at Palem Café, a bright, minimalist brunch spot near Place de Verdun. I ordered bacon, eggs, pancakes with maple syrup, and a chai latte, the kind of breakfast that feels like a small reward after a long walk. I sat out on the terrace with the other dog owners (since dogs aren’t allowed inside). The air felt fresh, and it was one of those unhurried mornings. After breakfast, we wandered through Le Marché Central, La Rochelle’s daily covered market in the heart of town. Inside, locals bartered cheerfully over crates of oysters, towers of cheese, meats, fish and glossy vegetables. I filled my basket with garlic, spinach, ham, seabass, smoked salmon, steak, lots of vegetables, dried mango, and baguettes. Back at the Airbnb, I worked through the afternoon, then cooked dinner, seabass with potatoes, spinach, and bread. After a week of eating out in Nantes, the chance to cook again felt grounding, a return to small, healthy rituals. Thursday. Storms, Stillness & WFH Thursday rolled in grey and gusty, the kind of Atlantic weather that rearranges your plans. I stayed in, laptop open, Roly curled up on the bed as wind rattled the shutters. It wasn’t an exciting day, but it was peaceful. These kind of days remind me that digital nomad life isn’t always adventure; sometimes it’s just life, lived elsewhere. Friday. Mussels, Sea Air & Sunset Drinks By Friday the skies cleared again, and La Rochelle returned to postcard form. I wandered back toward the central market to pick up some more supplies before leaving the next day. I had lunch at Le P'tit Amiral and enjoyed mussels in wine and cheese sauce, perfectly coastal and utterly delicious. Roly and I strolled the Vieux Port, La Rochelle’s harbour, lined with pastel façades and outdoor terraces filled with chatter. We followed the waterfront past the Tour de la Chaîne and Tour Saint-Nicolas, the twin medieval towers that once guarded the entrance to the port, and continued to the nearby Plage de la Concurrence for a breezy beach walk. That evening, I met Julien, a local I’d been chatting with, for harbour drinks and tapas. We ended up at Rue St Jean du Pérot, the lively strip of bars and restaurants by the port, and tucked into small plates over wine. Good company and conversation plus the glow of the port lights on the water made it the kind of easy, happy Friday night that travel gifts you when you least expect it. Where to Eat & Drink in La Rochelle Think seafood straight off the boats, and cosy bistros. Palem Café – A minimalist brunch dream near Place de Verdun. The pancakes, maple syrup, and chai latte combo is the morning move. Le P’tit Amiral – Mussels in wine and cheese sauce that feel like a love letter to the Atlantic. A must for a long, lazy lunch. Le Comptoir Saoufé – Lively oyster and seafood bar by the harbour. Order a glass of wine and settle in for the view. La Storia – Tucked behind a courtyard gate, this Italian gem is easy to miss but absolutely worth finding. Perfect pasta, relaxed setting, and warm service. Ernest Glacier – Local ice cream shop with inventive flavours (the salted caramel is next level). Ideal for a post-dinner harbour stroll. Rue St Jean du Pérot – Not a single venue, but the street to head for food and drinks. Buzzing terraces, tapas, wine, and all the people-watching you could want. Le Jardin du Marché – Refined, local dining tucked behind the central market. Fresh seafood, seasonal vegetables, and perfectly plated mains. Papy Mougeot – Chic French bistro with a wine list that encourages lingering. Enjoy the steak. Le Comptoir de Walter – Simple, stylish, and all about seasonal produce. The sort of place locals actually recommend to their friends. 💌 A Note from the Road La Rochelle was a mix of rain-soaked mornings, breezy harbours, and calm coastal afternoons. The weather wasn’t on my side for much of the week, and I didn’t get to explore as much as I’d hoped, but maybe that was the point. This stop offered a slower pace, market mornings, and home-cooked dinners. While most days were quiet, the final night with good company, harbour lights, and laughter over wine reminded me that every destination has its moment. Next stop: Bordeaux

Leaving Rennes behind, I drove south toward Nantes which was took around 1.5 hours on the open motorway. On the edge of the city, I spotted Parc de la Gaudinière, its trees glowing in rich shades of autumnal amber. With the airbnb check-in not until 3PM, it felt like the perfect place to stop for a walk with Roly.  We wandered through the park looping around the lake and through the tree-lined paths, soaking up the stillness before heading into the city. Little did I know, that peaceful walk was the calm before the chaos that was about to unfold.  The Beginning of the Plot Twist: A Bump on the Road The calm from our park walk didn’t last long. I headed back to the car feeling refreshed and ready to check into the Airbnb. The parking area sits along the roadside, with each car wedged between low stone boulders.  Getting into the space had already been a bit of a puzzle thanks to the sloped road and narrow gaps. Getting out turned out to be trickier. The boulders sit just below mirror height, so you can’t actually see them when reversing. As I eased out slowly to line up with the road, I heard a quiet thunk. I got out to check and, sure enough, there it was, a small but clear dent in the back of my Mini. Nothing major, but still annoying. The boot sensor even joined in, beeping on and off as I drove, a gentle reminder of the boulder misfortune. For now, it’s purely aesthetic, a minor scar on the Mini and a reminder that travel has its humbling moments.  Plot Twist 2: The Airbnb Curveball I drove into the city and checked into my Airbnb which was on the first-floor above a tattoo shop. The entrance was a little gloomy, with narrow corridors and steep stairs, but nothing I couldn’t handle. I unloaded the car, carried everything up, with Roly scrurrying up and down with me. Once unapcked I started to feel that post-travel relief… until my phone pinged. It was the host and I received the dreaded words: “Just to let you know, the Wi-Fi is down.” Every digital nomad knows that Wi-Fi isn’t just a nice-to-have, it’s the lifeline. Without it, there’s no client work, no emails, no connection. I messaged the host back, confirmed the situation, and we agreed to cancel the booking for a refund. Which meant doing everything I’d just done in reverse. Back down the dark corridor, loading up the car again, and Roly pacing with me between the apartment and the Mini again. It was now evening, and I needed another plan.  Plot Twist 3: Booking.com Hotel Overbooking Saga I found a nearby hotel on Booking.com called Hôtel de la Cité that seemed ideal with good reviews, parking included, and dog-friendly. I booked it straight away, grabbed my bag, and drove over feeling relieved that the day was finally turning around. Or so I thought... At check-in, the receptionist looked at me, then at her screen, and sighed. “I’m so sorry, we’re fully booked. Booking.com has been overbooking guests all day because of a system error.” Of course, the payment hold had already gone through… but the room? Nowhere to be found. By this point it was nearing 8PM, and I couldn’t help but laugh, otherwise, I probably would have cried. The day had officially gone full circle: park peace, boulder dent, Airbnb fail, and now a hotel mix-up. Surely, there couldn’t be another plot twist waiting around the corner… right? Third Time Lucky: Hôtel Billie At this point, I wasn’t taking any chances. I found another hotel called Hôtel Billie, right in the city centre, and this time, I called directly to confirm: Dog-friendly? Rooms available? Parking nearby?  Working WIFI?  Finally, a yes to everything. When I arrived, the woman at reception was an absolute gem. She smiled the moment I walked in, helped me bring my luggage inside, and even offered to carry one of the heavier bags up to my room. After the day I’d had, her kindness genuinely felt like medicine. I parked the car in a nearby car park, and headed back to check in properly. The room was cosy, and exactly what I needed. A sense of peace after hours of chaos. Of course, there was one final hurdle: the hotel Wi-Fi. It connected instantly on my phone, but my laptop refused to cooperate. Cue a 45-minute tech marathon of DNS resets, DHCP renewals, captive-portal gymnastics before it finally worked. That night, I sank into the crisp sheets, and exhaled. It had been one of those travel days, the kind that test your patience but leave you quietly proud of how calm you stayed. Because if there’s one thing this road trip keeps teaching me, it’s that adventure isn’t just in the beautiful moments, it’s also in the messy, mildly ridiculous ones that remind you you’re really out here, doing it. And honestly, the same goes for life. Friday: A Fresh Lens on Nantes After a full night’s rest and reset, I woke up ready to see Nantes through a different lens. Stepping out of Hôtel Billie that morning located on Rue Scribe 26, Bis, the city already felt different. I realised how perfectly placed I was, right in the heart of things, surrounded by independent shops, cafés, and restaurants. Maybe the chaos of changing hotels had actually worked in my favour. I wandered with Roly through the quiet morning streets, picking up a ham and cheese baguette from Emma Pâtisserie along the way. I ate on the go, weaving through the narrow streets lined with French boutiques, Bonobo, Manfield, Cotelac, and Paul Marius to name a few. At one point, Roly stopped and stared through the window of Hermès, tail wagging, as if he expected me to take him shopping. Sorry, love, we’re not quite at Hermès budget territory. We wandered into Passage Pommeraye, Nantes’ famous 19th-century shopping arcade. It has beautiful architecture with marble staircases and glass ceilings. Outside, we stopped at Place Royale, one of Nantes’ main squares. In the centre sits a grand fountain surrounded by stone figures, each one representing a local river that flows through the region, including the Loire, Erdre, and Sèvre. The sculptures are so detailed they almost look alive, water spilling gently around them as tourists and locals cross the square. After exploring for a few hours, I headed back to the hotel to work for the afternoon. By evening, I was ready for good food and went to Le Bistrot Basque de Nantes, a tapas spot that brings a taste of the Basque Country to western France. The atmosphere was warm and buzzy, locals chatting over glasses of wine, plates clinking, the hum of conversation carrying through the terrace. I ordered three dishes: squid with rice, prawns with garlic, and a creamy pavlova for dessert, paired with a glass of champagne. Everything was rich, full of flavour, and exactly what I needed. Nantes, I realised over dinner, is a grower. It doesn’t charm you instantly like Rennes or Rouen, it unfolds slowly, through its food, and its little daily details. And by the end of that meal, I knew it was starting to win me over. Saturday. Pamper & a Little Vinyl Therapy After 2 weeks on the road, I was overdue for a little self-care. Saturday started with a morning walk through the city to a nail salon called L’Onglerie Nantes, my version of a recharge day. I walked in on a whim and luck was on my side; they had a same-day appointment just a couple of hours later. With time to spare, Roly and I wandered around the area to explore. Just a few doors down, we found Biche Dogshop, a beautifully curated pet boutique. Naturally, Roly insisted we go in. The owner was so lovely and she told me about Squeek, a rescue dog she was looking after, who was just as sweet as his name. Roly got treats and I got dog mum joy. A few shops up, a sign caught my eye, Comme à la Radio, a record store stacked with vinyls. As a long-time collector with a vinyl player at my home in London, I couldn’t resist. I spent about 45 minutes digging through the UK garage, deep and tribal house, and drum & bass crates, pure heaven. I left with five new records, future souvenirs to spin when I’m back home (or maybe at an Airbnb with a player, if I'm lucky). After that, it was time for my appointment at L’Onglerie, and I walked out with fresh gel polish in my favourite pink, a small but satisfying reset. I wasn’t done yet though. Next stop: Comptoir du Soin, a little beauty studio where I booked in for waxing. It felt good to hit pause and take care of myself after weeks of movement. Dinner that evening was at Chez Thérèse et Denise, a traditional French restaurant where I ordered stewed lamb with fries. Proper comfort food to close out the day. Sunday in Nantes I started the day at Les Machines de l’Île, one of Nantes’ most talked-about attractions. It’s home to large mechanical creations inspired by animals and nature, including the city’s famous Grand Éléphant, a 12-metre-tall moving sculpture that sprays water as it walks. Dogs aren’t allowed on the ride or inside the main gallery, so Roly and I wandered around the outdoor area, checking out the industrial structures nearby. It’s an unusual and creative space.  Afterwards, we walked along the Loire River, following the pedestrian path lined with trees and bridges. The air was crisp, the light soft, and the city had that easy Sunday stillness France does so well. Most shops close on Sundays here, part of a long-standing tradition that treats the day as one for rest, family, and food. Only a handful of cafés and crêperies stay open, and the slower pace feels intentional. It's a pause in the week rather than an inconvenience. Nantes was hosting a marathon that morning, the second I’ve come across in France after Rennes last week, adding a burst of energy to the quiet Sunday streets. I ended the afternoon at Le Coin des Crêpes, a cosy spot serving traditional Breton galettes and sweet crêpes. I ordered a savoury crêpe filled with bacon, leek, cream, and melted cheese, paired with a chilled cider, pure comfort on a plate. For dessert, I couldn’t resist an apple and caramel crêpe, warm and buttery with just the right sweetness. Both were a solid 10/10. Side note: I’m eating so much bread and pastry in France. I’m going to need to find a run soon before the carbs start catching up. A few runs along the coast in La Rochelle  should keep things in check. Monday in Nantes: Rain, Serendipity & Sweet Goodbyes Monday began at Sugar Blue, a cosy café that quickly became my work base. I ordered a warm croissant with coffee, set up my laptop, and settled in for a quiet morning of work. Between emails, I struck up a lovely conversation with a mother-and-son duo from Boston. The mum, Cindy, was warm, witty, and wonderfully bohemian. She told me she’d spent years as a nomad and is now retired, having now settled in Tomar, Portugal, a town she spoke about with real fondness. Her bag caught my eye too, and Cindy explained that cork is one of Portugal’s biggest natural exports. I love how travelling gives you these small, unexpected exchanges. She even passed me her contact details, so who knows maybe our paths will cross again when I reach Portugal later in my trip. It was a rainy Monday in Nantes with the sound of rain tapping against the windows all day. Outside, it came down in sheets, the kind that makes timing your exit an extreme sport. When I finally decided to leave the café, the rain returned in full force, so I dashed for cover and ducked into a nearby pub. I ordered a classic English breakfast tea. I know, very British of me in France, but exactly the warm hug I needed on a damp Monday. Once the rain eased, I wandered into Outremesure, a boutique I’d been eyeing the day before when it was closed for Sunday rest. Inside, I found a gorgeous tote bag and matching cosmetic pouch printed with a quirky dog motif, an instant yes for me. The tote’s big enough to fit my laptop and travel essentials, and the design feels like a little nod to Roly. The rest of the day stayed low-key. The kind of rainy day that calls for staying in and catching up on work. In the evening, I packed up the car, ready for tomorrow’s drive. Tuesday: A Farewell Lunch at Emporietto On my last day in Nantes, I wanted one final meal to end the city on a high note and Emporietto, a tucked-away Italian restaurant about 20 minutes’ walk from the centre, was just that. Finding it felt a bit like a treasure hunt: you have to slip through a quiet gate and down a narrow cobbled alley before stepping inside its stone-vaulted cellar dining room. The atmosphere was instantly warm with low lighting and rustic walls. I ordered 2 dishes: a mix of tender pork served with creamy mushroom and another with purée, beautifully balanced and full of flavour. It was the perfect send-off meal, local, and made with care. As I walked back through the narrow graffiti-lined streets with Roly trotting beside me, I felt ready for the next chapter. Next stop: La Rochelle What I Learned from My Stay in Nantes Nantes wasn’t the easiest chapter of this road trip. It began with dents, double-bookings, and more rain than planned but it turned into a gentle reminder of what slow travel is really about. Here’s what I’m taking with me: Flexibility is everything. Plans will fall apart (sometimes twice in one day), but there’s always a plan B and often, it leads to something better. Kindness shows up when you least expect it. From the hotel receptionist who helped carry my bags to Cindy in the café sharing stories about Portugal, little moments of connection can completely shift your day. Aesthetic dents are just that, aesthetic. Whether it’s a car or a travel hiccup, most things look worse than they are. Cities take time to reveal themselves. Once the chaos settled, Nantes quietly grew on me. It has creativity, character, and charm beneath the surface. Balance matters. Between croissants, crepes, and coastal plans ahead, I’m learning that road life is equal parts indulgence and intention. Nantes reminded me that not every stop has to be picture-perfect to be meaningful. Some places earn your love slowly, one small story, one kind stranger, and one unexpected detour at a time.

Rennes, France. Where Canals Meet Creativity Leaving Rouen behind, I drove south toward Rennes which took around 4 hours. Rennes is a city I knew little about but felt instantly drawn to. Why? Because the moment I arrived, I could sense its creative pulse; the mix of art, energy, and ease that gives it character. I knew I’d be here for a week, and I couldn’t wait to see what lay beneath the surface. The drive had been long but pulling up outside my Airbnb felt like a small victory. The flat was trendy; open-plan, filled with vinyls, plants, and art with a patio spilling with greenery, outdoor furniture and quirky fixtures. The canal was just around the corner, catching the last of the evening light.  Roly stretched out on the cool floor, tail thumping gently as if to say, we made it. I unpacked a few bits from the car, and watched the light fade through the tall windows. That sweet, still moment between arrival and adventure.  That night, I ordered Indian takeaway from Délice de India, very yummy and exactly what a travel day deserves. Saturday. Markets, Art & Ink Saturday morning began at Marché des Lices, Rennes’ famous weekend market lined with stalls overflowing with cheese, bread, flowers, and chatter. I wandered through with a coffee in hand, picking up local cheese and a bottle of red wine, before stopping for lunch at Crêperie au Marché des Lices. Here, crêpes are made with buckwheat flour, giving them that distinctive Brittany flavour, savoury, and perfect with cider. I ordered one with ham and melted cheese and sat in the patio sun surrounded by locals enjoying their weekend ritual. After lunch, Roly and I wandered along the Arsenal-Redon Canal, the kind of place where life just happens with cyclists and runners whizzing past, dogs chasing sticks, couples sharing wine on the grass. It reminded me of Hackney Wick back home in London. Creative, lived-in, and full of easy charm. Later that afternoon, I visited the La Criée Centre d’Art Contemporain, a small but striking exhibition space that captures Rennes’ creative heartbeat. Afterwards, I stopped at La Tête Enfarinée for baguettes and cakes, and picked up jambon and market goods from Marché Central to cook later.  A Turtle & A Twist As the sun dipped, the day took a spontaneous turn. I walked into Cœur d’Encre, a small tattoo studio filled with plants, vinyl, and warm light, and walked out with a sea turtle on my arm, a symbol of intuition, emotional depth, and the ability to navigate life’s challenges. And as if fate wanted to add a plot twist, Cédric, the Frenchman I met in Rouen, came to visit me in Rennes. He got a match tattoo, a small flame. Somehow, it felt poetic; two different symbols. Courtyard Drinks & Unplanned Conversations That evening, we went to La Piste, an open-air bar with a laid-back courtyard vibe. We ordered drinks and ended up joining two women from Brittany who invited us to their table. We spent hours chatting, laughing, and swapping stories, one of those spontaneous, unscripted nights that make travel feel effortlessly alive. Sunday. Seafood & Sunshine at Chez Brume Lunch at Chez Brume was perfection; a refined bistro with a sunny terrace serving seafood. I had a selection of their tasting dishes, followed by pavlova, and a glass of prosecco. As we ate, the Rennes Marathon passed by, a blur of runners, and clapping, turning lunch into a front-row seat to local life. After lunch, we wandered through the Sunday flea market, a maze of vintage books, art, and antiques that spilled into the nearby streets. We ended the day with dinner at La Chope, where I had steak frites, a pafita roll, and an Aperol Spritz to close out the weekend perfectly. Monday. Canal Loops & Quiet Moments Monday morning began with a long canal walk. Roly trotted beside me while the city slowly stirred with runners, cyclists, and locals walking to work with coffee in hand.  In the afternoon, I wandered to Marché Central, picking up sausages, steak, and a baguette to cook at home, then spent the rest of the day working from the airbnb.  A working Monday but a deeply content one. Tuesday. Canal Walks & Roly’s EU Passport On Tuesday, I drove to Vetovie Fougères vétérinaire in Rennes to get Roly’s EU pet passport, one of those important admin steps for anyone travelling long-term through Europe with a dog. The vet was fantastic, friendly, professional, and even English-speaking, which made everything simple. They registered Roly, carried out a routine health check, and issued his French (EU) passport on the spot. Total cost: around $60 for the check-up, registration, and the EU passport. The EU passport is a game-changer for pet travel. It replaces the need for constant vet visits and new health certificates at each border. With it, Roly can now travel freely between EU countries for the next year as long as his rabies vaccination stays valid. It’s one of those small but huge wins for life on the road, less paperwork, more adventure. Dinner that night was at PHO ANH EM, a Vietnamese restaurant serving pho, noodles, and fresh rolls bursting with flavour.  Wednesday &Thursday. Work, Walks & Pancake Farewell Not every day on the road is about exploration, and that’s exactly what makes it real. Wednesday was spent working from the Airbnb, and Roly and I took our usual 45-minute walk along the Arsenal-Redon Canal in the afternoon. The sun was shining, the water shimmered, and the city moved with that charm that defines Rennes. That evening, I cooked the sirloin steak I’d picked up from the market earlier in the week, which was tender, and perfect with a glass of red wine. The next morning came with that bittersweet feeling of packing up and moving on. Leaving days are equal parts chaos and excitement. Before hitting the road, I stopped at Oh My Biche, a dog-friendly café that doubles as a co-working spot. I ordered pancakes with maple syrup, bacon, and scrambled eggs, and it absolutely hit the spot. It was the perfect send-off. Where to Eat & Drink Crêperie au Marché des Lices – Buckwheat crepes and local cider Oh My Biche – Dog-friendly café and co-working gem, and the best brunch in town Chez Brume – Refined yet relaxed bistro serving fresh seafood Pho Anh Em – Fragrant Vietnamese pho, noodles, and spring rolls  La Cavale – Cosy bistro with natural wines and modern French plates L’AOC – Seasonal, elevated French dishes using regional ingredients in a relaxed setting. Superkraft – Bistro-meets-bar with great coffee by day and creative cocktails by night. Origines Restaurant-Bar-Microbrasserie – Industrial-style eatery pairing craft beer with generous, flavourful dishes. Le Bacchus – Wine bar and bistro with live jazz, candlelight, and a romantic edge. Le Tournesol – Small, friendly wine bar perfect for easy evenings and good conversation. Why Rennes Stuck With Me Rennes has a spark that’s hard to define. What I loved most is how liveable it feels. You can walk almost everywhere, pick up a baguette and flowers from the market, stop for wine at a bar you didn’t plan to visit, and end the day by the canal with locals who feel more like neighbours.Rennes has character stitched into its daily life.It wasn’t the biggest city, the most dramatic, or the flashiest stop on my route. But it was the one that felt the most real; creative, social, and full of heart. For now, it’s my favourite chapter on this journey. Now, it’s time for the next route. Next stop: Nantes.

The Arrival Rouen was never meant to be an eight-day stop but that’s the thing about the places that surprise you. They quietly convince you to stay longer. After the drive from Calais, I arrived to a city that looked like a painting with half-timbered houses, gothic spires, cobbled streets that curve just enough to make you wonder what’s around the corner. My Airbnb on 31 Rue du Fardeau had everything a traveller dreams of: high ceilings, art-filled walls, colourful furnishings, and morning light pouring through tall windows. My car was tucked neatly away at the Opéra car park just five minutes away, and I had everything I needed; coffee, comfort, and a city waiting to be explored. If you’re travelling Europe long-term by car, Rouen is the kind of base that makes sense. A week in one place gives you space to breathe, explore, and still feel the pull of the road ahead. Why Rouen Works Rouen has an easy rhythm. It’s historic but not stuck in the past, beautiful but lived in, romantic without trying too hard. It’s where Gothic cathedrals meet indie cafés, and history meets small daily pleasures. A warm croissant, a rain shower over cobblestones, a late-night glass of wine with live music in the background. It’s also a very dog-friendly city in France. Roly was welcomed everywhere, cafés, shops, even restaurants usually with a smile and a water bowl. The Cafés & Morning Rituals Mornings began at Café Augustin, a minute from my apartment. It’s an eclectic little spot with large windows perfect for people-watching. I'd also enjoy a dirty chai latte at Columbus Café, which was also close by.  For other great café stops, Prélude Café, Bibelot, and Madame A are beautiful choices for coffee and brunch. Café Crème and Couleur Café bring that easy French café charm. History & Hidden Corners Rouen’s history runs deep. It’s where Joan of Arc met her fate, and where Monet painted the same cathedral façade over and over to capture its changing light. Walking through the city is like flipping between centuries Cathédrale Notre-Dame towers over the old town, all stone lace and shadow. The Gros-Horloge, a golden clock suspended above a cobbled street, still ticks as it has for hundreds of years. Rue Eau-de-Robec is one of Rouen’s prettiest streets, half-timbered houses, small canals, and vintage shops. For art lovers, stop by Hangar 107 for modern exhibitions, or L’Établi for local contemporary pieces. And if you love vinyl or vintage, Aesthetic Circle Record Shop is worth a browse. Sunday in Rouen. Markets & Quiet Streets Sunday in France has its own tempo, calm, simple, almost sacred. In Rouen, that means the city slows to a whisper. Most shops and restaurants close completely on Sunday and Monday, and the few that open typically shut around 1:30 PM including the main Marché Saint-Marc. The food market itself is worth the early start with stalls piled with cheese, meats, fish, vegetables, fruits, and fresh bread. Locals chatting and dogs weaving through the crowd like regulars. It’s the perfect glimpse of everyday French life. By early afternoon, the city empties. Streets fall quiet, and the sound of church bells replaces traffic. It’s oddly soothing, a reminder to slow down too. That evening, I wandered through the old town and ended the day with a crepe and three gelato toppings from Amorino. Sweet, simple perfection. The Day Trip: Étretat Cliffs When the sun broke through later in the week, I decided to make the 1.5-hour drive from Rouen to Étretat, one of Normandy’s most breathtaking coastal towns. The route winds through fields and villages before the sea appears suddenly, framed by white chalk cliffs. I stopped first at La Flottille, a cosy dog-friendly restaurant a short walk from the beach. The smell of butter, garlic, and cream greets you instantly. I ordered mussels in cream sauce which were rich, delicate, and easily a 10/10. After lunch, Roly and I explored the cobbled beach, framed by breathtaking cliffs on both sides. Roly paddled in the sea while I watched the waves hit the rocks, sunlight turning everything gold. We climbed Falaise d’Aval as sunset hit, the kind of view that reminds you why you travel. Standing there, surrounded by cliffs and coves, with Roly beside me and the sea stretching endlessly ahead, everything felt right. A French Date & Live Music Somewhere between cathedral strolls and coastal hikes, I met Cédric. We met for a walk in the Botanical Gardens, which turned out not to be dog-friendly, but we made it work, walking and talking in a different area, and heading to the city in the evening for dinner at Zhoushi, fresh sushi and then Victorine Piano Bar across the road. Victorine is Rouen’s hidden gem, with a grand piano at the centre, cosy décor, and sophistication. I ordered a local Sauvignon, he ordered red wine, and for a few hours, everything was just music and conversation. When we left, the cobbled streets were quiet, the cathedral glowing softly in the distance. And there, under the Rouen moon, we shared a kiss, one of those perfectly cinematic moments you can’t plan, only live. A night later, I returned to Victorine Piano Bar for live jazz, oysters, and champagne. The show was meant to be at its sister bar, Victorine Jazz Bar, but after flooding, it moved back here. It was another fun filled night.  The Food Scene Rouen’s food scene is surprisingly rich for its size. Highlights include: Navio — Modern French, where I had perfectly cooked medium-rare beef with caramelised vegetables. Hanoï Délice — Vietnamese comfort food perfect on a rainy day. Zhoushi — Fresh sushi made in front of you. La Pêcherie — Seafood lovers, take note. Listo — Ecuadorian dishes full of colour and flavour. Bân Thaï and Bambou — for a taste of Asia. Le Kitsch, Lé Là, and Tempo — modern French done beautifully. Amorino — Crepes and gelato piled high (mandatory). La Pasta Tinto — A welcoming Italian with gluten-free options and friendly staff. Roly even got water and ham. Pure dog-hospitality perfection. Rouen has that lovely French habit of slowing you down with food. You sit, savour, and stay longer than you meant to. Nightlife & Local Spots For drinks, Le Charleston and L’Estaminet Bières & Cocktails are both fantastic, full of character and great music. Victorine Piano Bar and Victorine Jazz & Wine offer a more elegant vibe, while The Sound of the Horn is perfect for a laid-back glass. The Journey Onwards On my last morning, I checked out at 11am. One final look at the space that had been home for eight days. Before the long drive to Rennes, I stopped at La Pasta Tinto for lunch and ordered pasta with shellfish, and Roly was treated like a king with a full bowl of ham from the staff. The restaurant filled up quickly with locals, always the best sign. Following a good meal, a happy dog, and a full heart we were now ready to travel onwards to Rennes. Why Rouen Stayed With Me Rouen feels like a city in balance. History without heaviness. Charm without cliché. The kind of place that doesn’t demand attention but quietly captures it. It’s full of small joys, cafés with character, friendly faces, dogs at every table, and light that hits the cobblestones just right. This was my first chapter in my European road trip and I couldn’t have asked for a better beginning. Merci, Rouen. Next stop, Rennes.

From One Journey to the Next After six months of exploring the UK from January to July 2025, from Cornwall’s beaches to Bristol’s art scene, I realised how much the rhythm of the open road suited me. Mornings without alarms. Days shaped by curiosity. The joy of Roly riding shotgun, ears flapping in the breeze. Somewhere between the Lake District and the Yorkshire Dales, the idea of continuing the journey across Europe stopped feeling wild… and started feeling right. So when autumn arrived, I decided to go for it. This time: a little further afield, Europe. The Final Day in London: Packing Up a Chapter October 2nd, 2025, the day everything became real.  I spent the entire day packing up the last of my belongings, underestimating how long the “final bits” would actually take (classic). But by the end of it, everything was loaded into my Mini One, Roly was in tow, and my little car was officially transformed into a European travel pod. I took one last look at my London apartment, closed the door behind me, and exhaled. I didn’t know exactly what was ahead, just that it was time. Time to open a new chapter, even if the pages haven’t been written yet. As I drove away with Roly curled up beside me, his eyes full of curiosity, I felt the shift. And just like that, life on the road had officially begun. Why I Stayed in Folkestone Before the Eurotunnel Pro tip: If you’re doing a big move or long-distance road trip, take the pressure off. I drove to Folkestone the night before my Eurotunnel crossing and it was such a good call. The journey from London took around 2 hours and 45 minutes thanks to rush hour traffic, and by the time I arrived (around 9pm), I was starving. Pizza was the only thing on the to-do list. I stayed at the Burlington Hotel, BW Premier by Best Western which had a smooth check-in, friendly staff, and was dog-friendly.  Before heading to the Eurotunnel in the morning, I also made a quick stop at the M&S Simply Food at the nearby petrol station to stock up on snacks and groceries. After a long travel day, having something to eat when I arrived in Rouen without needing to hunt for a shop was a game-changer. Just scenic drives, dog-friendly stays, and a flexible lifestyle that made room for spontaneity. Morning of the Crossing: Eurotunnel Pet Tips Roly and I went for a short walk along the promenade in the rain. I couldn’t quite see France across the Channel, but I knew it was just out there waiting. We headed to the Eurotunnel Le Shuttle terminal early, and I highly recommend you do the same. Here’s the breakdown of the process: Main check-in Pet check-in (they scan your dog’s microchip + documents) UK passport control EU passport control Toilet/snack/fuel stop before boarding Give yourself 1.5+ hours, especially if you’re travelling with a dog. Everything runs efficiently, but it’s not a 10-minute job. Inside the Eurotunnel: 35 Minutes to a New Chapter Once waved through, I drove onto the shuttle train with car after car, neatly stacked like a real-life game of Tetris. It feels orderly. Industrial. Efficient. Once parked, I switched off the engine, handbrake on, and settled in. The train started moving with barely a jolt. No dramatic clunks or lurches, just a subtle hum. For 35 quiet minutes, we cruised beneath the Channel.  Before I knew it, we were slowing with arrival in Calais. I restarted the engine, and waited for the doors ahead to open. France was just moments away. Driving in France: What to Expect The moment you roll off the Eurotunnel in Calais, you’re practically on the motorway. Driving on the right wasn’t as daunting as I expected, it actually felt intuitive pretty quickly. The roads are smooth, and everything is in km/h, not miles per hour. The speed limit is 130km/h on the motorway, which is about 80mph (faster than the UK’s 70mph). Heads up: French motorways often have speed cameras. You’ll spot occasional warning signs or cameras mounted discreetly. Just something to be mindful of. I settled in for the 3-hour drive to Rouen, music on, Roly snoozing in the front. Pit Stop Magic: Chocolate Briochette & Roly’s Stretch About halfway into the drive, I needed a toilet. The thing is once you leave the motorway in France, you’re often in tiny, sleepy towns with not much open. By sheer luck, I found a gem: Boulangerie Victor in a village just outside Abbeville, called Nouvion-en-Ponthieu. It smelt like heaven, warm bread, pastries, that perfect bakery scent. I grabbed a chocolate briochette and asked the woman behind the counter to warm it up slightly. The chocolate started melting just enough… and wow, so delicious. I could’ve eaten ten. Toilet? ✔️ Snack? ✔️ Stretch break for Roly? ✔️ We were both happy. First Impressions of Rouen The final hour of the drive was smooth, and we arrived in Rouen around 6pm. The city was alive, people chatting over wine, walking dogs, shopping, laughing. That Friday night feeling was in the air. It felt vibrant, social, full of energy. I checked into my Airbnb and only brought in a few bits from the car, some clothes, essentials, dog food. No need to unpack everything when I’m only here for a week. Later that evening, I wandered the town just to soak it in. People dining indoors and outdoors, a man walking his dog, music and murmurs floating in the air. It felt good to be somewhere new. Out of London. In a fresh space. In motion. What I Learned on Day One of the Road Trip Take the pressure off by breaking up long journeys (Folkestone overnight was a game-changer) Stock up on groceries before you cross. Your future self will thank you Allow buffer time for border control and pet check-ins Stop at the bakery for a halfway stop and to stretch your legs Driving in France is easier than expected, especially on the motorways Speed cameras are around, drive relaxed but be mindful It’s okay not to know what comes next. Sometimes the road just opens up ahead of you