The Routes

Arriving in Tarifa The drive from Sevilla to Tarifa took around two and a half hours. The road heads steadily south through open countryside before the landscape opens up and the Atlantic begins to press closer. Tarifa sits at the very edge of Europe, where the Mediterranean meets the Atlantic and Africa feels close enough to see across the water.  The pace changes immediately. Tarifa feels stripped back in the best way; fewer layers, more air, more space. Where I Stayed: Los Lances / Dunes Area I stayed at Iceberg Luxury Dunes, just behind Playa de Los Lances on the northern edge of Tarifa. The location sits neatly between the beach and the main road into town. Free private parking is a big plus here, and getting in and out of Tarifa is straightforward. From the apartment, it’s an easy walk to the wide, open stretch of sand, with views out toward the Atlantic and you’re close enough to the Old Town to wander in on foot. Beach Time in Tarifa The next day was given entirely to the beach. Roly went straight into the water, charging through the shallows like he’d been waiting for this exact moment, then sprinting back across the sand without a care in the world. I grabbed a coffee from a small beach bar perched right on the dunes and sat watching the light change; clouds thick and dramatic one minute, soft breaks of sun the next. People were scattered, never crowded. A few walkers in the distance, dogs off lead, the sea stretching wide and calm. It wasn’t about doing much at all. Just being there and letting the day unfold slowly, with nowhere else to be. Wandering the Old Town The next day was spent entirely in Tarifa’s old town, wandering without any agenda. Whitewashed streets, cobbles underfoot, small independent boutiques spilling colour onto the pavement with clothing, jewellery, ceramics, and surf-inflected finds tucked into every corner. It’s compact and the kind of place where you keep turning into “just one more street” and find something worth stopping for. Lunch was at El Lola – Bar de Tapas y Flamenco, lively, with tables pressed close and a steady flow of conversation. I ordered the red tuna which is a local speciality here and a big part of Tarifa’s food identity. This stretch of coast is famous for almadraba tuna, an ancient, sustainable fishing method used for centuries, and the tuna is treated with the kind of respect it deserves: simply prepared, rich, clean, and full of flavour. After lunch, it was back out into the streets to more shops, more colour, people drifting in and out of bars and bakeries. Tarifa’s old town doesn’t feel curated or polished. It feels lived in and social, exactly what makes wandering it so satisfying. Wandering the Marina The day started at Cafe Azul one of those places that immediately earns a return visit. Good coffee, well-judged plates, and a relaxed, design-led space that makes it easy to settle in longer than intended. From there, I headed towards the marina, following Tarifa’s coastal edge. It’s a different face of Tarifa, less enclosed than the old town, more open, more expansive. The walk rolled straight onto the beach, where everything stretches out. I stopped at Balneario Beach Club for a glass of cava, sitting with the sea in front of me and nowhere else to be. As evening set in, I headed back into town for dinner at Restaurante La Pescadería. A classic, seafood spot where the focus stays firmly on the produce. Fresh fish prepared, and the kind of place that feels rooted in Tarifa rather than styled for it. A relaxed, satisfying way to close the day. After dinner, I finished the night with a drink at Bossa Bar. Low-lit, laid-back, and the kind of place that works perfectly for a final glass before calling it. An easy end to the evening, very Tarifa. Crossing Ahead: From Tarifa to Africa With Morocco next on the route, it was time to get practical. Before leaving Tarifa, I took the car in for a quick check at Automoción Piñero Peinado. Nothing major, just a once-over for peace of mind before crossing continents. Back at the apartment, bags were repacked, essentials double-checked, and everything set up for an early start. The plan: an early-morning drive to Algeciras, then the ferry across to Tangier. Tarifa at a Glance: How the Town Breaks Down Tarifa is small, but each area feels distinct: Casco Antiguo (Old Town) This is the heart of Tarifa with narrow streets, whitewashed buildings, tapas bars, wine spots, and boutiques. It’s lively, social, and compact. Best for wandering and atmosphere.  Los Lances / Beachside North Open, spacious, and breezier. This is where you’ll find long beaches, kite surfers, walkers, and a slower pace. It’s more functional and liveable. Residential South (towards Punta Paloma) Quieter, more spread out, and closer to nature. This area feels more local and is better suited to people prioritising space over proximity to town life. Notes from the Road: Tarifa Days were shaped by the sea, the old town, and good food without fuss. Mornings started easy, afternoons stretched out along the water, evenings slipped naturally into tapas, wine, and familiar faces. There’s a clarity to Tarifa. Nothing tries too hard. Life stays close to the elements; sea salt, sun, movement and that simplicity sharpens everything else. It was the right place to pause, check the car, repack bags, and mentally turn the page. From here, the route shifts. New borders. Africa.  Now, it’s time for the next route. Next stop Asilah.

Arrival in Sevilla: Settling Into the Casco Antiguo The drive from Granada to Sevilla took around three hours, and somewhere along the way the landscape softened. The mountains fell back, the air warmed again, and Andalucía opened out into wide plains. Sevilla is Andalucía’s capital, a city built up in layers. Roman foundations, centuries of Moorish rule, then the wealth of the Spanish Empire flowing in through the Guadalquivir. You feel all of it straight away, not as something preserved or put on display, but as part of daily life. Churches sit beside bars. Apartment blocks rise next to old courtyards. History isn’t separated or spotlighted it just exists, woven into the streets people still live on. Sevilla doesn’t pause to explain itself or point things out. You notice it by walking through it, by sitting down for a drink, by paying attention. Living Inside the Casco Antiguo I based myself right in Sevilla’s Casco Antiguo, at Jesús del Gran Poder. This part of the city feels immediate and textured with cobbled streets, facades painted in warm yellows, terracotta and soft pinks and corners marked by graffiti.  Christmas was threaded through it. A tree stood in the square. Lights were strung overhead. Temporary ice rinks and market stalls appeared where streets opened out, folding into daily life. From the apartment, wandering felt instinctive. Streets curve and narrow, opening onto record shops, vintage and antique boutiques, hand-painted doors, posters layered in windows, flashes of colour everywhere you look. Dogs move confidently through it all. People slow down, stop to talk, browse, linger. The days shift naturally. Mornings pull you towards markets, cafes and small shops. I stopped for cakes at Horno Nueva Florida. Afternoons are for walking with no plan at all, just following streets until they lead somewhere else. By evening, bars glow from inside, conversations spill outward, music drifts through open doors. After a dog walk with Roly, I grabbed a quick drink at Las Columnas Sevilla and watched the street settle into night. Nothing here feels staged. It’s layered, interesting, colourful, and magnetic. A place you don’t tour so much as slip into and stay with. Christmas Eve in Sevilla Christmas Eve morning started on Calle Baños, a short walk from the apartment and already buzzing by mid-morning. This stretch of street is all about food: butcher shops, fishmongers, bakeries, cheese counters, fruit stacked high in crates with every doorway busy, every counter lined with locals working through last-minute lists. In much of Europe, Christmas Eve is the main event: the late dinner, the wine, and the main family gatherings. It’s a different emphasis to the UK, where the 25th has most of the Christmas celebrations.  I stopped into Carnicería El Origen and ordered steaks and sausages, then picked up eggs and Iberian ham from neighbouring shops so I could put together something simple on Christmas Day. I already had dinner booked for that evening at Alcázar Andalusí Tapas, so this was about preparing for the quieter day that followed. The rest of the afternoon unfolded on foot, wandering without urgency, letting the streets lead the way. By early evening, the city had shifted gears. I headed out for Christmas dinner and took a seat on the heated terrace at Alcázar Andalusí Tapas, facing the street. Around me, Sevilla was buzzing, locals lingering over pre-dinner drinks, groups greeting each other mid-street, laughter carrying between tables before everyone peeled off home for long family nights ahead. There was a joyful energy in the air. Dinner stretched easily into drinks, with the terrace glowing against the night. From there, I crossed the road to Café Hércules, already packed inside and spilling out onto the pavement. I got chatting with a few people, which quickly turned into a small group, and we decided to wander to the nearby square and continue drinks at Copa 66, where music drifted out onto the street. We sat outside on the terrace as new faces joined, conversations overlapped, songs were sung enthusiastically, and laughter bounced around the square.  It was an easy, joyful night. My first European Christmas, shared in a city I was already starting to fall for.  Christmas Day in Sevilla Christmas Day arrived bright and sunny. I was tired, a little foggy from the night before, but Sevilla doesn’t allow for staying in. By afternoon, I was back out on the streets, drawn towards the centre for a slow wander and a proper lunch. I stopped at Maestro Marcelino, a place that instantly felt grounded and impressive. Inside, rows of hanging jamón framed the bar and bottles lined the shelves. I grabbed a table by the window, perfectly placed to watch the street unfold. Outside, the city moved at an easy pace. Pedestrians wandered past in no hurry, and at one point several horse-drawn carriages rolled through. The view alone felt like part of the meal. The food matched the setting, classic tapas done properly. Thoughtful, well-executed dishes with attentive service. This felt like the kind of place you would return to because it delivers without trying too hard. Hungover or not, it was exactly how Christmas Day should feel here: unforced, sunlit, and quietly celebratory. Another layer of Sevilla revealing itself and another reason I was already falling in love with the city. Letting Sevilla Unfold The rest of the day flowed into wandering, the kind where Sevilla kept presenting itself without asking you to decide where to go next. Flamenco surfaced in the open. A dancer held a small square in complete focus, her movements sharp and deliberate, the rhythm carried by guitar and voice close behind her. Flamenco belongs to Andalucía shaped by Roma, Moorish, Jewish and Andalusian histories. People gathered quietly, watched for a while, then moved on, as if this were simply part of the city’s daily texture. Green space cut through the day too. Parque de María Luisa appeared between streets and buildings, its tiled fountains and shaded paths offering a pause without breaking the flow of the city. Built for the 1929 Ibero-American Exposition, locals and tourists walked dogs, crossed through on errands, stopped briefly on benches.  At some point the scale shifted upward. The Catedral de Sevilla came into view. Built on the site of a former mosque and finished as a declaration of imperial confidence. Standing beneath it, the detail reveals itself slowly: carvings softened by time, stone warmed by late afternoon light, shadows pulling texture out of the façade. Around it, the city carried on. Horse-drawn carriages moved at an unhurried pace. Streets filled and emptied without urgency. Christmas lights threaded through the architecture. The celebrations folded neatly into everyday life. Sevilla continued to reveal itself in layers with movement, sound, history and light. You just keep going, and the city keeps meeting you where you are. Leaving Sevilla Boxing Day arrived quickly. I checked out of the apartment, loaded up the car, and felt that familiar mix of readiness and reluctance that comes with short stays that land well. Sevilla had been brief, but it left its mark. It didn't need much time to make itself felt, and one I know I’ll come back to. Before heading south, I stopped for breakfast at Restaurante El Paseíllo. After that, one last slow wander through the city in the winter sun. Familiar streets, golden light on stone, the city moving at its own pace. I passed beneath Las Setas de Sevilla, officially known as the Metropol Parasol, one of Sevilla’s newest and most debated landmarks. Modern, bold, and slightly surreal against the surrounding streets.  I ended with a glass of wine in the courtyard at Café Santa Marta Bar, sitting in the sun, letting the moment stretch just a little longer. Then it was time. Southbound again. Seville's Neighbourhoods At A Glance Seville is a city of distinct pockets, each with its own mood. Once you understand where you are, the city becomes easy to navigate and even easier to enjoy. Casco Antiguo The historic core and the emotional heart of the city. Narrow streets, churches, small plazas, bars, shops, street art, and everyday life layered tightly together. Lively from morning to late night, especially around food, drinks, and wandering without a plan. Santa Cruz The old Jewish quarter and postcard Seville. Whitewashed lanes, orange trees, quiet courtyards, and historic landmarks like the Cathedral and Alcázar nearby. Beautiful, atmospheric, and busier during the day. El Arenal Set between the historic centre and the Guadalquivir River. Close to bullring culture, traditional tapas bars, and river walks. Central but slightly more open, with a mix of locals, visitors, and long-standing institutions. Triana Across the river and proudly its own thing. Known for flamenco roots, ceramics, local bars, and strong neighbourhood identity. Less polished, more personality. One of the best places for traditional food and evening atmosphere. Alameda de Hércules Social, alternative, and relaxed. A wide square lined with bars, cafes, and terraces where locals gather day and night. Younger energy, less traditional, very lived-in. Macarena Residential and authentic, with historic walls, local markets, and fewer tourists. Good for seeing everyday Seville away from the main sights, while still staying walkable to the centre. Los Remedios Calmer and more residential, across the river from the centre. Broad streets, local shops, and daily routines. Not a sightseeing area, but a good snapshot of modern Sevillian life. Nervión More contemporary and practical. Shopping centres, offices, and transport hubs. Useful rather than atmospheric, but well connected. Why Seville Stuck With Me  💌 Seville stayed with me in a way I didn’t expect, not because of one standout moment, but because of how the city felt as I moved through it. It carries its history lightly. You sense it in the architecture, the rhythm of the streets, and the way people gather without rushing. Mornings are unhurried, afternoons stretch long, and evenings feel made for wandering with no destination in mind. There’s an undeniable cool to Seville; effortless, confident, and completely unforced. And long after leaving, it lingers. Now, it’s time for the next route. Next route: Tarifa.

Valencia → Alicante The drive from Valencia to Alicante is short and straightforward, just over two hours south. It’s mostly motorway, cutting inland through open stretches of countryside before dropping back towards the coast. Easy enough to feel effortless, long enough to mark a clear shift. Alicante: A Coastal Pause Alicante was a short stop en route to Seville, a way to break up the longer drive south and stretch the journey rather than rush it. I checked in on Saturday 20 December and stayed through to Monday 22 December, just enough time to reset by the sea before the Christmas leg began. I based myself by San Juan Beach, staying at Hotel Almirante, which turned out to be a great choice for a short stay. It was less than a five minute walk to the beach which made slipping into seaside mode almost automatic. Lunch at Barrazero Bistro After checking in, I didn’t waste any time. Roly and I headed straight out for lunch at Barrazero Bistro, and it delivered. The terrace was relaxed and sun-soaked, the kind of place that immediately puts you at ease. The food followed suit; fresh, flavoursome, and well judged. I started with mussels in an Oporto escabeche that added depth without overpowering them. Pickled onion and herbs lifted the dish, keeping everything balanced and clean. The scallops came cooked on the plancha, properly seared and finished with a small amount of seasoned butter; sweet, clean, and left alone to speak for themselves. I also ordered Galician razor clams, served in a soft yuzu beurre blanc. Rich but not heavy, with just enough citrus to cut through the sauce without pulling focus from the clams. All coupled with a glass of cava. Roly settled beside the table without fuss, welcomed easily by the staff. Service was relaxed and attentive, never intrusive. It felt like an easy start. Unforced, well paced, and exactly what this stop in Alicante needed to be. San Juan: Sand, Sea & Sunset Evenings Naturally, the rest of my time in Alicante unfolded almost entirely around the beach. Mornings were quiet and spacious; people walking along the shoreline, dogs racing across the sand, early swimmers easing into the water. By afternoon, volleyball games appeared, others stretched out simply to watch the sea.  Breakfasts set the tone. Both mornings started at Cafe Willow or Dolci Garipier, easy spots for coffee, something sweet or savoury, and watching the day gather momentum. Later, as the light softened, evenings often ended with a glass of wine at Xaloc Lounge, right on the beachfront, the sky shifting colour while conversations drifted around us. Dinner, though, was better approached with a little intention. While the beachfront restaurants look tempting, I’d skip them. The food is noticeably stronger just a few minutes inland. Places like Barrazero Bistro, La Vaquería Mediterránea, Restaurante Nova Queimada, and Nómada Local Food & Funky Drinks all offer better cooking, and a more local feel without straying far from the sea. Days blurred into a simple pattern: long walks, salty swims for Roly, wine at sunset, and unhurried meals. For a short stop between cities, Alicante didn’t ask for much and gave exactly what was needed. Alicante Neighbourhoods at a Glance El Barrio / Casco Antiguo (Old Town) Historic, lively, and atmospheric. Narrow streets, colourful houses, tapas bars, and nightlife tucked beneath the castle. Great for short stays and evenings out, but can be noisy late at night. Centro / Ensanche Diputación The practical heart of the city. Flat, walkable streets with shops, cafes, restaurants, and everyday amenities. Well connected and ideal if you want convenience without the party feel. Explanada & Port Area Palm-lined promenades, marina views, and a polished, postcard Alicante feel. Popular with visitors and great for strolling, dining, and being close to the sea. Playa del Postiguet City beach living. Central, buzzy, and scenic with easy access to the Old Town and centre. Busy in summer but unbeatable for location. San Juan Beach (Playa de San Juan) More spacious and residential with long sandy beaches. Modern apartments, cafes, and a relaxed pace. About 20–25 minutes from the centre by tram, ideal for longer stays. Albufereta Quieter coastal area between the city and San Juan. Residential, local, and calm, with tram access and smaller beaches. Benalúa Local, residential, and less touristy. Good value accommodation, bakeries, and everyday life. Not beachfront, but well connected. Notes from the Road: Alicante Alicante feels instantly easy. The city is compact, flat, and built for wandering perfect for beach walks or socialising on the promenade. There’s a relaxed feel here that doesn’t demand a plan. The next morning, it was back on the road. Next route: Granada. Alicante, Then South Briefly To Grenada From Alicante, I drove on to Granada. Just under four hours, cutting through wide open roads and long mountain stretches. What stayed with me most was the shift in weather, leaving sunshine behind and watching it turn, gradually, into colder air and distant snow-dusted peaks. It felt like crossing seasons in a single drive. Granada was only a one-night stop to break up the journey south to Seville. I stayed at Catalonia Granada, and had dinner nearby at Restaurante Granada Aylin Art Cuisine. Warm, cosy, excellent food and wine, the kind of place you’re grateful to find without needing to plan. After dinner, Roly and I walked to a nearby park with a fountain and monument glowing softly at night. Just a final stretch of the legs before resting up. Now, it’s time for the next route. Next route: Seville.

Barcelona → Valencia The drive from Barcelona to Valencia took just under four hours and was entirely motorway, which made it easy and relaxed. Once I’d left the city behind, the roads opened up quickly and the journey became one of those steady, uncomplicated drives where you can just settle in and let the kilometres pass. Arriving into Valencia, the difference was immediate. The city feels more open. Palm trees line wide roads, light bounces off pale buildings, and everything feels less compressed.  I got the sense that this would be an easy place to settle into, explore properly, and live in for a while rather than rush through. Valencia already felt like it had its own energy. Quieter than Barcelona, but confident. And very much its own thing. Settling In: Duplex City of Arts & Science I settled into a duplex apartment called Duplex City of Arts & Science, located in the Camins al Grau district. It’s a modern, residential pocket of Valencia that feels local and more everyday life.  The City of Arts & Sciences is about a 15-minute walk away and the beach at Platja de Llevant is roughly a 30 minute walk or 10 minute drive. It was the kind of base that felt well connected, bright, and easy to slip into Valencia without trying too hard. Wandering Valencia Day two was about walking without a plan and letting the city reveal itself. The neighbourhood around the apartment felt properly lived-in with residents chatting on corners, local shops ticking along at their own pace. Palm trees, basketball courts and bursts of colourful graffiti sat casually between apartment blocks, all under that bright Valencian light. Late morning drifted naturally into food, as it tends to here. I stopped at Taberna El Clavo, grabbed a table outside, and leaned into a very Spanish brunch: tortilla, bread, something grilled, and a glass of cava that felt entirely justified. Around me, conversations rolled on, and no one looked in a rush to be anywhere else. It was the kind of place where time stretches slightly, not because it’s trying to be charming, but because that’s just how people use it. An Evening at Casa Montaña That evening, I headed out for dinner on a date with a guy from Amsterdam who’d been living in Valencia for a while. He recommended tapas and drinks at Casa Montaña, a hidden gem in El Cabanyal. Casa Montaña has been around since the 1800s, and it feels it in the best way. Nothing here has been polished up or reworked. Tiled walls, wooden barrels, shelves of wine that look like they’ve been added to gradually, bottle by bottle, over time. We ordered the way you’re supposed to here, a few things at a time, glasses topped up, plates shared. The food was excellent, but what stood out more was the vibe of the place. Conversations overlapping, people leaning in, wonderfully friendly staff. You could tell this was somewhere people return to, not somewhere they “discover.” The evening unfolded easily. Good food, vermut, wine, stories traded back and forth about cities lived in and left behind. It felt distinctly Valencian. It was one of those evenings that slots neatly into a place’s story and the perfect end to my first day. Arts, Gardens & a Very Practical Detour Day three came with one clear priority: my MacBook charger had stopped working. Not dramatic, just urgent. When you’re working on the road, that cable is non-negotiable. I headed to Centro Comercial El Saler, right on the edge of the city, and went straight to K-tuin Valencia Saler. Problem solved. New charger in hand, momentum restored. What I didn’t expect was how workable the mall itself turned out to be. There’s a proper desk area built into the space with power points, room to spread out, people doing the same thing. I sat down and got some solid work done. Once that was handled, the day opened up. Step outside the mall and Valencia immediately shows another side. The Turia Gardens run straight through the city. A former riverbed repurposed after flooding in the 1950s and now one of Valencia’s best assets. Long paths, palms, sports courts, people walking dogs, cycling, stretching out the afternoon. It doesn’t feel curated. It feels used. From there, the city shifts again as the City of Arts and Sciences comes into view. Big, white, sculptural buildings sitting in sheets of blue water, sharp against the sky. Designed to make an impression, and it does. Even without going inside, walking through the complex feels like moving through a different version of Valencia: bolder, cleaner, more futuristic. Roly strolled along beside me, the sun stayed high, and the afternoon slipped by easily. A charger replaced, work done, and then hours outside taking in how this city actually functions; green space threaded through it, architecture that takes risks, and room for real life in between. Where the City Meets the Sea Spending time in Valencia inevitably pulls you towards the water. I headed out to Platja de Llevant, close enough to the city to reach easily but far enough to feel like a proper change of scene. Even in December, the weather held; warm enough for long walks along the sand, throwing a ball for Roly, or simply sitting facing the water with no agenda beyond switching off. Roly was immediately in his element, sprinting across the sand and paddling in the gentle waves. Time passed without any effort to track it, and food followed naturally. This stretch of coastline has plenty of places to eat, many with relaxed indoor–outdoor terraces. I stopped at Restaurante Sabbia Valencia, settling into a leisurely three-course lunch with fresh seafood, a glass of wine, and dessert to finish. The food was excellent. As the day shifted into evening, the nearby marina offered a different mood. Spots like Marina Beach Club and La Marina de València start to fill with music. It’s another layer of Valencia that reveals itself. A city that makes space for local life, good food, and time outside. Living in Valencia Staying in Valencia for eleven days shifted the pace completely. After the first few days of exploring, the rest of the time settled into something closer to everyday life.  Most days started with walks through the neighbourhood. Orange trees heavy with fruit lined residential streets, parks filled with people walking dogs, chatting on benches, passing time.  Roly got a groom at Tu Pet Estilismo de Mascotas. I booked a Thai massage at Thirak Thai Massage & Wellness, which turned out to be exactly what it promised; thorough, grounding, and very good at undoing weeks of driving and laptop posture. Food became less about “where to eat” and more about where we naturally ended up. Casual breakfasts at Planeta Café, tapas at El Castillo de las Tapas, and paella at Casa Bassa. One evening we went for something completely different, asian cuisine at Shintori Teppanyaki. There were plenty of in-between moments too. Leisurely shopping at department store El Corte Inglés, grabbing takeaway from Thai Tu Box, stopping for drinks at Il Cuore di Ruzafa as the neighbourhood eased into evening. I even squeezed in eyebrow threading at Lashes & Go Valencia, which was a nice treat. What stood out wasn’t a single moment, but how naturally Valencia accommodates daily life. Parks woven through the city, the beach close enough to drift in and out of, and futuristic architecture sitting comfortably alongside it all. After eleven days, that felt like its strongest quality. Valencia Neighbourhoods at a Glance Valencia is easy to understand once you get a feel for its neighbourhoods. Each area has its own personality, but they link together seamlessly, making it simple to move between different sides of the city without effort. El Carmen (Ciutat Vella / Old Town) The historic heart of Valencia. Narrow streets, small plazas, layers of Roman, Moorish, and medieval architecture. Lively without being overwhelming, especially in the evenings when people spill into bars and squares. Pla del Remei / Eixample (City Centre) Elegant, polished, and very walkable. Think wide avenues, boutiques, cafes, and classic buildings. This is the traditional city centre; refined, central, and easy to live from. Ruzafa Social, creative, and full of personality. Cafes by day, wine bars by night, and a strong neighbourhood feel throughout. One of the best areas for food, drinks, and feeling plugged into local life. El Cabanyal Coastal and characterful, shaped by its fishing-village past. Colourful façades, traditional taverns, and a strong sense of identity. Close to the beach and home to some of Valencia’s most loved long-standing spots. Camins al Grau / City of Arts & Sciences More open and residential, with modern buildings, wide streets, and easy access to green space, the Turia Gardens, and the beach. Practical, well connected, and ideal for longer stays. La Marina / Beach Areas (Malvarrosa & Patacona) Beach-first living. Long promenades, seafood restaurants, relaxed cafes, and space to breathe. Feels separate from the city in the best way, while still being easy to reach. Notes from the Road: Valencia Valencia offered space and balance with its mix of beaches, neighbourhoods, architecture and food all working together.  Enough energy to keep things interesting, enough space to make it sustainable. Now, it’s time for the next route. Next route: Alicante.

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 façades, 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 some medicine. 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. Now, it’s time for the next route. Next stop: Valencia, a new city, new food, new beaches, new energy… and another chapter for me and my little co-pilot.

The Road to Madrid: Sunshine, Highways & a Midway Stop in Soria The drive from Pamplona to Madrid was just over four hours. I set off under a sky that was completely clear, that bright winter sun that sits low but sharp, stretching across the windscreen as the road unfolded into the mountains. Around the halfway mark, I stopped in Soria, a small, quiet town that sits between mountain ranges. I parked up and walked through rows of pastel and terracotta buildings, laundry hanging from balconies, locals going about their afternoon.  Lunch was simple but exactly what I needed before getting back on the road and it broke up the journey perfectly. From there, the final stretch into Madrid was smooth, the landscape flattening out as the city began to take shape on the horizon. Arriving in Madrid: A New Base at Be Casa Valdebebas After the long drive down from Pamplona, I arrived at Be Casa Valdebebas my home for the first chapter of Madrid. The neighbourhood itself is low-key with wide streets, modern apartment blocks and big open parks. But the real appeal was Be Casa. Designed for nomads and long-stay travellers, it’s built around community and comfort with communal workspaces, a fully equipped gym, a bright lounge that always has someone tapping away on a laptop, rooftop views at sunset, and best of all, completely dog-friendly. It felt like its own little ecosystem: a base where I could work, reset, and ease into the city. My plan for Madrid was a life in two halves; part of my time here in this peaceful neighbourhood on the edge of the city, about 30 minutes’ drive from everything, and the other half right in the heart of Madrid where the pace shifts instantly. Settling Into Valdebebas The first few days in Madrid were deliberately rooted in Valdebebas. This was the softer entry point with space to unpack, get my bearings, and ease into the city before diving into the centre. Mornings often started at La Típica Bodega El Garnacho, sitting out on the terrace with coffee in the crisp winter sun. It felt like a true cross-section of the neighbourhood: locals, expats, dog walkers, people easing into their day without urgency. Easy, familiar, unpretentious. Lunch at Carambola Café Bistró quickly became a highlight. The food was excellent, full of flavour, well priced, and thoughtfully done. Inside, it’s warm and relaxed, the kind of place that works just as well for lingering over a long meal as it does for opening a laptop and getting some work done with a glass of wine alongside. Evenings stayed close to home. Dinner at Qalido brought a more refined note; polished, confident cooking without feeling formal. In between, days were filled with long dog walks through Parque Forestal de Valdebebas – Felipe VI, where wide open green space stretches in every direction. I cooked regularly back at the apartment too, enjoying the luxury of having a proper kitchen again. I also squeezed in a nail appointment at Le Maise, and let the days settle into a flow that felt practical, spacious, and grounding. It was the perfect soft landing into Madrid before shifting gears for the second half of the stay, right in the heart of the city.  Into the City: Brunch, Dogs & a First Proper Night in Madrid By the weekend, I was ready to shift gears and head properly into the city. I parked up at El Corte Inglés parking right in the heart of Madrid. An easy, central base that made the transition seamless and I stepped straight into the city's energy. Brunch was at Roge Madrid, meeting Thomas, a French man living in the city, who also had a dog, a husky called Pi. The food at Roge was genuinely good, and a couple of glasses of wine meant brunch quickly stretched into the afternoon. From there, the day rolled naturally into bar hopping around Lavapiés, with Roly and Pi padding alongside us. Madrid is incredibly dog-friendly, which made moving from place to place feel effortless. Cafes, bars, terraces and restaurants welcomed dogs almost everywhere, making it easy to drift from day into night without breaking the flow. Later that night, I headed north to Chamberí and checked into Avani Alonso Martínez Madrid, a stylish boutique hotel. It felt like the right close to my first real taste of the capital: lively, social, and spontaneous. Madrid, properly, had begun. A Slow Sunday in the City I woke up with a sore head on Sunday from the night before with no real agenda, which felt exactly right. The pace shifted automatically with a later start.  I spent the afternoon wandering without intention, drifting through the streets around Calle de Hortaleza, letting the neighbourhood reveal itself slowly. By the evening, appetite returned properly, and I headed for dinner at Bodegas Lo Máximo. It was the perfect choice for the mood: traditional, atmospheric, and reassuringly good. The kind of place where the food and wine flows easily, plates keep arriving, and the day closes without ceremony. Monday, Split in Two Monday unfolded in two distinct halves. The morning stayed focused and contained, anchored around Chamberí. I worked from coffee shops and co-working spaces near the hotel, easing back into routine after the weekend. I settled in at Casa Foca – Work & Chill Coffee, a well-designed space that made it easy to get things done. Good coffee and breakfast, quiet concentration, people tapping away at laptops, it felt purposeful without being rigid. Later, I wandered south towards the centre and stopped for coffee at Kohi Madrid. By the afternoon, Madrid pulled me properly into its streets. I drifted through Malasaña and Chueca, moving between neighbourhoods without much structure, letting curiosity lead. Vintage shops, independent boutiques, colour, people everywhere. I spent time browsing vintage shops and bought a cute, stylish corset at Disco Cherry Vintage. Lunch was grabbed along the way at Lamucca De Prado casual, unplanned, exactly right before I continued wandering, watching the city move through its own rhythms. It was one of those days that felt very Madrid: productive without being heavy, social without effort, and constantly shifting as each neighbourhood blended into the next. Small Resets & City Greens Tuesday was about maintenance and meandering. The kind of day that slips neatly into city life. The morning started with a hair appointment at Nubians Hair Salon, tucked just off Jesús del Valle. One of those practical resets that quietly makes a place start to feel familiar rather than temporary. Late lunch followed at El Social, and it genuinely stood out. Relaxed, great energy, and seriously good food. The ceviche was spectacular, fresh, vibrant, and perfectly balanced, easily one of the best I had in Madrid. What really elevated it though was the owner: warm, welcoming, and effortlessly generous. You felt looked after without it ever feeling forced. A place I’d recommend without hesitation for the food, the atmosphere, and the people behind it. After eating, I wandered towards ardines del Arquitecto Ribera, a quieter pocket of green tucked between neighbourhoods. Locals stretched out on benches, dogs trotting past, people cutting through on their way elsewhere, everyday city life unfolding. It was a satisfying kind of day: errands done, work fitted in, excellent food, and just enough green space to round it out. Back to Valdebebas: Loose Ends Before the City Finale The next day, I headed back to Be Casa Valdebebas to reset before the final stretch in the city. Packing, sorting bags, tying up loose ends. That in-between day that sits somewhere between movement and pause. I used the time for practical errands, including a car wash and a wander around Centro Comercial Islazul. A bit of Black Friday window shopping, a change of scenery, and an easy way to tick things off without thinking too hard. Nothing headline-worthy, but necessary. A day that quietly clears space so you can enjoy what comes next. After that, it was back into Madrid to spend the last few nights fully in the city.  Final Night in Madrid: Tapas, Cava Baja & One Last Loop I headed back into the city for my final night, checking into Casual del Teatro Madrid, right in the thick of it. Central, walkable, and perfectly placed for a last proper send-off. The evening unfolded exactly as it should in Madrid: a tapas crawl along Calle de la Cava Baja. No reservations, no overthinking, just moving from bar to bar, following the energy. First stop was Taberna El Tempranillo. A classic opening move. Good wine, solid plates, busy in the way that signals you’re in the right place. From there, onto El Carmín. After the tapas crawl, the night took an easy turn at La Vaca y La Huerta, where I met Frank, a photographer, originally from South America and now living in Madrid. Conversation clicked immediately. One of those effortless, no-context-needed chats that feels like it’s already mid-flow five minutes in. We decided to carry the night on to Café Pavón, just nearby. Inside, the energy was already high with packed tables, overlapping conversations, drinks constantly arriving. We fell into conversation with locals and expats alike, the group growing naturally as people drifted in and stayed. Glasses clinked, stories bounced around, laughter cut through the room. It was lively, social and exactly the kind of night Madrid does best. A perfect, slightly chaotic, very human end to my chapter in the city. Closing Madrid, Back on the Road My final afternoon in Madrid ended on Gran Vía, with lunch at Oven Mozzarella Gran Vía. Good Italian comfort food, easy atmosphere, and a front-row seat to Madrid’s constant motion before it was time to move on. By late afternoon, I was back in the car, heading northeast. Rather than push straight through to Barcelona, I broke the drive with an overnight stop in Zaragoza. A practical stop, well-placed, and exactly what the journey needed. I stayed at B&B HOTEL Zaragoza Centro, just across the river from the historic centre. A simple, comfortable stopover: enough time to reset, sleep well, and be ready for the final stretch the next morning. Madrid had been full, social, grounding, and expansive all at once. Zaragoza marked the shift back into transit mode, the quiet pause between chapters before Barcelona waited on the other side. Understanding Madrid: The Neighbourhoods Madrid is large and varied, but once you understand its neighbourhoods, the city becomes easy to navigate. Each area offers a different version of Madrid life: Malasaña I Creative, youthful and slightly chaotic. Independent cafés, vintage shops, record stores and nightlife. One of Madrid’s most energetic neighbourhoods, especially after dark. Chueca I Stylish, social and central. Fashion-led cafés, wine bars and boutiques with a strong LGBTQ+ presence. Lively but polished, and very walkable. Chamberí I Local, elegant and understated. Residential streets, traditional cafes, wine bars and markets. Feels lived-in rather than touristic, a favourite with locals. La Latina I Traditional and food-led. Narrow streets, historic buildings and some of the best tapas spots in the city. Particularly lively in the evenings and on Sundays. Lavapiés I Multicultural, raw and expressive. Street art, global food, alternative spaces and a strong local community. Less polished, more real. Barrio de las Letras I Historic, literary and central. Charming streets, cultural landmarks and a calmer atmosphere, with easy access to museums and parks. Salamanca I Elegant and upscale. Wide boulevards, designer shopping and refined cafés. More daytime energy than nightlife. Retiro I Green, residential and relaxed. Built around El Retiro Park, ideal for long walks, slower mornings and a quieter city rhythm. Valdebebas I Modern, spacious, park-filled and residential. Wide streets, new-build apartments and a calm, local feel. Good for longer stays, and dog owners, around 25–30 minutes from the city centre. Notes from the Road: Madrid Madrid met me halfway; part everyday life, part full-volume city. It lets you arrive gently if you want, then turns the dial up the moment you’re ready. Valdebebas gave me room to settle in with routines, green walks, co-working life, good food close to home. The city centre flipped the switch with long lunches into evenings, bar crawls turned strangers into familiar faces, and each neighbourhood offered its own take on Madrid life. What lingered was how easy it all felt. Deeply dog-friendly. Social without trying too hard. Energetic, but never cold. Madrid doesn’t chase your attention,  it rewards curiosity. It’s a city you can skim or sink into. Either way, it stays with you. Now, it’s time for the next route. Next route: Barcelona.

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 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. Now, it’s time for the next route. Next route: Madrid.

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 façades 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. Now, it’s time for the next route. 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 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, it’s time for the next route. Next route San Sebastián. 🇪🇸

Saturday. Arrival in Bordeaux I arrived in Bordeaux on a Saturday afternoon 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 with 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 hungover from my night out in La Rochelle the evening before, I soaked up the vibes. I grabbed a baguette from a nearby bakery Boulangerie Au Pétrin Moissagais, and wandered through the overflowing streets of Chartrons. 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 in the Airbnb jacuzzi. 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. 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, enjoyed round 2 of the Airbnb’s jacuzzi. Such a touch after a long workday. 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 on zoom, 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. The perfect goodbye before the next stop Biarritz. Friday 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 a 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. Now, it’s time for the next route. Next stop: Biarritz for surf vibes, sunsets, and the start of the Basque chapter.