The kids straddling the Spain/Portugal border.

So having decided to head inland and back to Spain, and after a quick eight-mile run for me, we set off around 11. The first, Portuguese, part of the journey was picturesque: more winding mountain roads, sweeping vistas, drops to water and climbs to rocky peaks.

Soon enough we came to the border crossing with its long-abandoned sentry post, heavy with graffiti, and its more modern EU border signs. From here on the drive became typically "Spanish plain" - big, organised monoculture farming, straight roads, and small but sprawling towns, tatty with the infrastructure of rural industry.

We left the motorway at Zamora, which is on the Douro (or now we're in Spain, Duero) river, looking for somewhere nice for lunch. But the town didn't impress us, so we hit the road again, a couple of big bags of crisps purchased at a run-down garage to temper the hunger pangs.

Our destination was the small Duero-straddling town of Tordesillas, close to Valladolid, and Camping El Astral. It didn't look too promising on the way in, but it soon became clear that this was a gem of a campsite - albeit the most expensive of the trip so far.

We paid a bit extra still for a huge, genuinely grassy pitch, hedged in and with its own power and water supply, surrounded by trees - our best pitch of the holiday so far. The site is cheery, big enough to be fun for the kids, and with a decent cafe and restaurant, plus pools - even mini golf. Oh, and there's a shower just for dogs. There are even, apparently, free dishwashers, although quite how that works remains to be discovered.

Faye recovered a "popsicle" of ice from the bottom of the fridge, which Skye contentedly spent half an hour demolishing.

There are plenty of kids on site, including a ten-year-old English girl called Alisha who Maya discovered soon enough, and they became instant friends. Meanwhile, Dylan managed to hook up with some of the Spanish kids, and they all ended up playing games together, semi-guided by a campsite employee. It's the first real time the kids have interacted and played with other kids, so great to see. 

After a big meat-based meal at the campsite restaurant (Dylan and I sharing something he's wanted for ages, a mixed grill), we took the chance to get to know Alisha's parents, Jamie and Nim, us adults sitting outside their motorhome till gone midnight, swapping stories, the kids amusing themselves nearby. They have come over from the UK for the school holidays, on the ferry. Turns out Jamie is a jazz teacher at a music college in Leeds, so we found plenty in common to talk about.