A weekend in Girona with Bruna: the city that lets her in everywhere

We left Valencia early in the morning, before the traffic picks up. It's a little over four hours to Girona on the AP-7, and with Bruna on board we built in a halfway stop so she could stretch her legs and drink some water. Most stretches of that motorway have service areas with a grassy patch, so there's no need to improvise — just plan for it.

Bruna travels in the boot behind a dog guard, securely fastened, and on long drives that makes all the difference: she arrives calmer, and so do we. Once we got there, the first thing she wanted was a short walk to shake off the journey. We gave her one through Parc de la Devesa, the city's largest gardens, on the far side of the river; a quarter of an hour of sniffing and she was ready for the weekend.

We spent Friday afternoon wandering without a map. Call Jueu — Girona's Jewish quarter, one of the best-preserved in all of Europe — is a maze of stone alleyways, stairs and arches that smell of centuries. The streets are so narrow that sunlight only reaches them at midday, which means late afternoon leaves a cool shade you're grateful for. Bruna went nose-down the whole way, absorbed in the scent of every cobblestone, as if she were reading everything that had passed through before her.

From Call Jueu we climbed up onto the city walls. Walking the Passeig de la Muralla is one of Girona's great pleasures: it takes you above the rooftops, with views of the cathedral, the river and the hills beyond, and it's done in under an hour at a slow pace. Bruna climbed up with no trouble; the stretches of steps are well kept and there's room to move without feeling cramped. Up top the air was moving and we watched the sunset fall over the cathedral's grey stone, which turns gold in the last light. One of those scenes that stays with you.

Walking down from the walls to the river Onyar is another of Girona's postcards: the coloured houses leaning over the water — faded yellows, pinks, oranges — reflect in the river and make almost any photo look good without trying. The bridges that cross the Onyar are the best spot to take it all in, and by evening there's hardly anyone around; the city hasn't yet filled up with tourists at that hour.

For dinner we found, without much effort, terraces in the old quarter that welcome dogs without a second thought. Girona's terrace-dog culture is fairly widespread; there's no need to hunt for specific places or call ahead to ask. We ordered at one of them, Bruna stretched out under the chair as if she'd been dining out her whole life, and we took longer than we meant to because the night was perfect and there was no rush. That's the pace Girona sets: it invites you to stay.

On Saturday we got up a little early to make the most of the Costa Brava before the midday heat set in. Girona is twenty minutes by car from the sea — that's what makes it such a convenient base — and the stretch of coast it belongs to is the Alt Empordà, with beaches quieter and less crowded than those further south. We went to L'Escala, a fishing-port town known for fresh anchovies and rocky coves within walking distance of the centre.

Bruna does well with water: she likes to wade in up to her belly, no further, and then shake off wherever it's least convenient. L'Escala's coves have small patches of rock and sand where we crossed paths with other dogs early in the morning; they aren't officially designated dog beaches, but at that hour, before the crowds arrived, they belonged to everyone. The town's seafront promenade is also very pleasant with her, with pine shade along some stretches and terraces where you can grab a drink with no fuss.

We made it back to Girona mid-afternoon, just enough time to settle Bruna in the room with fresh water and take a stroll through the new town before dinner.

Girona has more pet-friendly options than you'd think at first glance, especially if you search without a size filter. The historic centre has small hotels and guesthouses where dogs are welcome, though for a dog like Bruna — thirty kilos, far from discreet — it's worth confirming beforehand. There are also a handful of country houses and rural cottages in the towns just outside, ten or fifteen minutes away, with gardens and plenty of room to spare.

We stayed in the old town so we could get everywhere on foot all Friday afternoon. If you're travelling with a medium or large dog, the most practical approach is to search directly with a pet-friendly filter and read each place's conditions before booking. Most places that allow dogs do so at no extra charge, though some ask for a deposit or have a designated dog area. It's worth asking when you book.

Sunday morning, before heading back to the car, we treated ourselves to the walk we'd been saving: Girona Cathedral from the outside, with its baroque staircase climbing up from Plaça dels Apòstols, and the Sant Pere quarter, quieter and with fewer tourists than Call Jueu. Bruna was on a leash, as everywhere in the city, but without a single dirty look or pointed finger. That detail, small as it seems, matters a lot when you're travelling with a big dog.

One of the takeaways from the weekend is that Girona has exactly the right scale for a trip with a dog: you can cover it on foot without wearing out, there are no crowds to make it uncomfortable, and the Costa Brava is right there to add a beach day. You don't need to over-plan; the city lends itself to improvising. Bruna arrived back in Valencia completely worn out from all that sniffing — which, for her, is exhausting. The clearest sign that the weekend had been worth it.