Page 13 of Atticus Arnott's Great Adventure

Thanks to the wonders of satellite navigation, he could sit back, listen to instructions, and enjoy the journey.

Noting that the mileage was now in kilometres, he glanced at Gonzalo, still perched on the dashboard.

The little gnome moved to the vehicle’s motion and appeared to be nodding his head.

Atticus reached out to straighten Gonzalo’s walking stick and the flag that announced, ‘Adventure Awaits!’.

And as the satnav instructed Atticus to merge onto the A-67 and head towards Burgos, he said, ‘I certainly hope so, Gonzalo.’

Leaving Santander behind, Atticus settled into the journey. The coastal scenery transitioned to lush green hills and peaks, and he began to enjoy the road winding through the Cantabrian Mountains, which offered stunning views of forests and valleys.

‘It reminds me a little of home,’ Atticus told Ness, remembering the fells surrounding Barn Hill Farm. ‘But I wouldn’t like to be up here in winter,’ he added, noting tall snow poles every few metres.

Occasionally, oncoming vehicles flashed their headlights, and the drivers held up a hand. Atticus was puzzled. There was no mention of this in his folder, and he wondered if it was some sort of Spanish road etiquette they’d missed.

It wasn’t until he’d pulled into a picnic area that he began to understand.

A motorhome with German plates flashed its lights, slowed down, and the driver lowered his window. ‘Very good wheels!’ the driver called out. ‘I like your Westie, an iconic German brand,’ he added, and with a cheery wave, he drove on.

‘Ah, it’s Winnie they’re appreciating,’ Atticus muttered as he poured coffee from his flask and gave Ness a biscuit. He made a mental note to reciprocate whenever he saw a vehicle he admired.

Moving on, Atticus remembered that Arthur had told him to make time for sightseeing.

Arthur had studied maps online and made notes for him on places worth visiting.

There would be many historic towns and villages along the way, and with this in mind, Atticus took a detour.

Following signs to the heart of Burgos, he found a car park beside the River Arlanzón, where a riverside walk allowed him to admire the town’s landmarks.

In the town square, he stood with Ness and gazed around at the meeting place where visitors and locals alike enjoyed the lively atmosphere.

‘Let’s have a coffee,’ he said to Ness, and moments later, Atticus sat at a table and stared at a menu. He hadn’t a clue what to ask for, as images of blood sausage and suckling lamb lay alongside dishes suggesting cheese and various rice concoctions.

A waiter approached, and Atticus cleared his throat. ‘A café con leche, por favor,’ he said. As the waiter disappeared, Atticus grinned. His practice with Jake on basic Spanish had paid off, and he could confidently order his favourite milky coffee.

‘I think we’ve cracked it,’ Atticus murmured as the waiter returned with his drink. He unwrapped the complimentary biscuit and handed it to Ness.

Strolling through the town along narrow medieval streets, Atticus felt the warmth of the sun and tilted his hat to avoid the glare as he passed museums and theatres, sensing centuries of history all around him.

When he reached the Cathedral of St. Mary of Burgos, Atticus stopped to study the architectural masterpiece.

Had Ness not been with him, he would have stepped inside and lit a candle for Clara.

But unsure of Spanish rules about church-visiting Collies and unwilling to leave Ness behind, he sat on a nearby bench and looked up at the soaring spire and intricate facade.

‘Hey, Clara, just look at me now,’ Atticus whispered. Ness lay her head on his knee, and he absently stroked the dog’s silky fur. ‘The old man is out and about.’

On their walk back to the camper, Atticus was struck by the smell of freshly baked bread. Looking ahead, he saw a sign that read ‘Panadería’. Deciding that it must be a bakery, he was delighted to find an open window displaying a mouth-watering array of crusty baguettes and rustic loaves.

A woman greeted Atticus. ‘Hola,’ she called out.

‘Oh, er… Hola.’ Atticus tapped his hat in acknowledgement and pointed to a soft, pale loaf.

‘Pan de leche?’ The woman smiled and wrapped the milky-coloured bread into a paper bag.

‘Aye, er… right, and I’ll also have dos of those, por favor.’ He held up two fingers, then reached for a handful of euros as she added the chicken-filled pastries he’d pointed at to the carrier.

‘Empanadas,’ the woman said, ‘very good, you enjoy.’

‘I’m sure I will,’ Atticus said, touching his hat. ‘Buen día,’ he grinned.

‘Gracias. Adiós, handsome cowboy,’ she laughed.

Atticus was surprised by the comment and decided that the Spanish were a friendly bunch and perhaps the lady sensed repeat business.

Back at the camper, he sat with Ness and munched on the empanadas.

‘These are good,’ he said as he bit into the delicious, savoury pastry, while Ness licked up flaky crumbs from the floor.

After tidying up the debris, he stretched his legs in the sunshine and made ready to set off again.

A motorhome, with several bikes strapped to the rear, drove past, and the driver tooted his horn.

‘Très bien, camper!’ a French voice called out. ‘Like a big, fat canary!’

Atticus gave a curt nod as he cranked Winnie’s engine to life, and they got back on the highway.

He wasn’t sure he appreciated his precious vehicle being compared to a big, fat canary.

Still, he soon forgot the comment as the open road before him offered stunning views of vast farmlands, while Winnie chugged along.

Atticus passed mile after mile of vineyards and olive groves, occasionally pulling over to photograph points of interest. He was grateful that Jake had insisted on the latest version of the iPhone. The camera was excellent, and Atticus was amazed at how simple it was to use.

Jake had set up an Instagram account for him, calling it @thetravellinggrandad.

The boy had shown Atticus how to upload photos using hashtags, explaining that it was a way of keeping in touch.

Jake and Arthur had followed the account so they could see the photos and enjoy the journey, too.

Atticus thought having a virtual photo album was a splendid idea.

In his day, it had been film on a reel that you took to Boots the Chemist to be developed into pictures, which Clara would then glue into the pages of a glossy album.

This newfangled phone saved all that bother.

Standing on a grassy verge, he pointed his phone at a giant iron billboard standing over fourteen metres tall.

The impressive structure depicted a massive black bull.

Jake had a whole page dedicated to the bull in the travel folder and Atticus knew that approximately ninety-two similar bulls were positioned on hilltops or alongside roadways throughout Spain.

Jake, intrigued by their existence, had told Atticus to photograph as many as he could find.

Consulting the folder, Atticus learnt that the El Toro de Osborne – the Osborne Bull – had been created in 1956 to advertise brandy and had since become a national emblem .

‘Gotcha!’ Atticus said as he took several images.

As the day wore on, Atticus decided to break up the journey with an overnight stop before they reached Madrid.

Having had little sleep on the ferry, he was feeling tired.

He’d noted signs for ‘Area de Servicio’ and chose one with plenty of parking space.

Atticus edged Winnie by a grassy verge between two articulated trucks.

A café served hot food, and he tucked into a dish named ‘Cocido Madrilena’, which resembled a hearty stew.

The meal was delicious and a perfect choice.

Wiping the plate clean with a chunk of crusty bread, Atticus licked his lips.

With a full stomach and feeling weary, Atticus took Ness for her last stroll of the day.

Heading back to Winnie, he noted that her round headlights gleamed like a pair of eager eyes, and her fender seemed to curve upwards in a grin.

‘Hello, old girl,’ he said and smiled with pleasure at his motorised companion.

Deciding to message Jake and let his grandson know all was well, he pulled out the camper’s sofa and lay down on the bed, snuggling under a soft, downy duvet with Ness curled into his back.

To the rumble of distant traffic, the world outside Winnie faded away.

A sigh escaped from Atticus’s lips while Ness’s paws twitched in her dreams.

In moments, The Travelling Grandad and his dog drifted into a deep and satisfying sleep.