They huddled under an awning as the rain poured down. Amy knew she should be used to the Doctor’s appalling sense of direction, but honestly, this took the cake. All she wanted was to head back to the TARDIS and get dry.
She dug her elbow into the Doctor’s side. “Barcelona, you said. You promised us a planet with noseless dogs, not a trip across the channel.”
“Alright, so I got the wrong Barcelona. It happens.” The Doctor shook rain from his hair.
Rory stared gloomily at the wet streets. “Somehow I always pictured Spain as being sunny,” he sighed.