The long road to France
I can’t say I was surprised when the humans started their crack-of-dawn nonsense. A clever little Westie notices these things, you know. Last night I spotted Mum sneaking a great big bag out to Blue, trying to look all casual about it. Then my cushion appeared in the hall, and that was me fully informed: adventure was officially happening. Dad took me round the block for what he probably thought was a normal walk, but I knew better. Straight after, into Blue we went. She rolled through the city while it was still fast asleep, all quiet streets and sleepy lights, and only stopped when we reached Granny’s house. It took a wee while to load Granny in, but once she was aboard, Blue pointed her nose towards the big road to Englandshire. On she went for miles and miles, so we not heading for the ferry at Newcastle. At last, just past Manchester, she pulled in for a rest, looking quite worn out. Excellent timing, if you ask me — my wee legs were in serious need of a stretch.
We had a good break, and then Blue was off again. Before long she was on roads I had never seen before. Now, I am a very observant little Westie, so naturally I had questions. Where are we? “London,” said Dad. Hmm. I had been to London before, but that time we came by train. Dad, would it not have been easier by train? We went past London, and then, almost like magic, my super nose picked up something familiar: the sea. Betsy found a place to rest for the night, so we all got out and went into a hotel. Once we were settled, I persuaded Dad to take me outside for a proper look around.
Right then, Dad, where are we now? “Dover,” said Dad. Hmm. Dover was a funny place. It smelled like the seaside, which was promising, but it looked a bit like a shopping centre, which was not. We wandered about for a while, and on the road we had come in on there were trucks and trucks and even more trucks rumbling past. There are an awful lot of trucks in Dover, Dad. I still hadn’t quite worked the place out. It was beside the sea, yes, but somehow it didn’t feel properly seaside at all.
After a good night’s sleep and bacon for breakfast, we were back in Blue and off again. Blue joined a very big queue, and while we were stopped, I had a proper look around. Hmm. I knew this place. This was a ferry port. Poppy knows a ferry port when she sees one. I have been on lots and lots of ferries, so naturally I considered myself something of an expert.
Soon the ferry arrived, and Blue was swallowed up by its enormous mouth. I watched very carefully, of course, because clever little dogs like to understand these things. Before long, we had found a place to settle for the trip. Now this, I decided, was a very good ferry. Carpets in the doggy lounge! Honestly, Dad, why had no one told me ferries could be this comfortable?
Soon the engines rumbled into life, and the ferry began making its way out to sea. I sat very still and listened carefully, because a clever little Westie should always know when a boat is doing something important.
Another excellent thing about the dog lounge was the vending machine. I studied it very carefully. It was a big box, and when Dad tapped his card against it, treats appeared. Actual treats! I had no idea these machines were full of such fantastic goodness. Dad, why have you been walking past these magical boxes all this time without telling me?
After about an hour, we could see France. I sat up and had a proper look, because this did not seem quite right. We had only been on the ferry for a short time, and now Dad was saying that was France? Really? I have been to Mull before, and that takes much longer.
Blue came out of the ferry and set off along the road. She took us for miles and miles, only stopping a few times for a rest. I had been to France before, of course, but only in Betsy and never with Granny. This was my very first time coming here in Blue, so naturally I was paying close attention to everything. At last, Blue pulled up in a place called Léhon, and we all jumped out, ready to see what was waiting for us.
Once we were all settled in, I gave our new home a very careful inspection. Doors to the back garden. Doors to the front garden. Very thoughtful. Poppys likes good access to gardens. After a proper look around, I decided that Poppys would probably like it here at Quai du Val Luxury Holiday Gîte.
