Hobbit houses for wine under the ground,
The miles pass by until the campground is found,
Deserted and quiet we find it down a dead end,
Nobody around just an over friendly cat to self fend,
Then we spot a poor Dobermann chained to a fence,
No space to roam, no interaction, no connection just very tense,
With our hearts hurting for the poor girl,
We leave our last day in Spain for Portugal