St Suliac and Dinard
We all packed into Blue, and before long she was carrying us through the Brittany countryside. I watched from my on Mum, as hills, hedges and trees zoomed by. After a while, Blue stopped for a rest in a small, quiet village called St Suliac. I took one look around and made an important discovery: no cars. Excellent. That meant another off-lead day. I jumped, nose already twitching, because the village was full of great smells, and it would have been insane not to investigate them properly.
The best smells were coming from a place called Au Galichon. I stopped at once, lifted my nose. Bacon. Beef. Chicken. Yes, this was clearly the place for me. “In here,” I decided, because when a smart Poppy finds a good place to eat she does not ignore it. Inside it was warm and cosy, with a big fire and delicious meat cooking where I could keep a good eye on it. Very much my kind of place. Mum and Dad had crêpes, but not ordinary crêpes. These were packed with cheese and bacon and topped with an egg. I, after some careful watching and big style hypnotising received bacon and cheese of my own. Then a kind peoplesee came over, gave me treats, and made a fuss of me. I looked up at Dad with my best determined face. We will be coming back here, won’t we, Dad?
With my tummy full, it was clearly time for a serious sniff around the village. St Suliac was very old, with lots of tiny streets and twisty alleys that needed proper Poppy investigation. Then came the surprise: the village was at the seaside. Well. That changed everything. It was hot, my paws were working hard, and a smart Poppy knows cooling down my paws in the sea is bliss. So I marched myself to the water and stood there while my wee paws cooled off.
The one thing I found deeply wrong with St Suliac was the beach situation. For reasons no Poppy could accept, Poppys were not allowed on the beach. I examined this rule carefully and since Poppys cant read, said Dad lest go. “We can’t” said Dad Spoilsport.
Never mind. If the beach was busy being difficult, I still had the rest of the village to investigate, and a smart Poppy does not waste time arguing with silly rules when there are smells, corners and pee mails to read.
Back up at the top of the hill, I went for a proper nose around the churchyard. “Dad, look. This church is Poppy friendly.” There were water bowls outside the front door, which was a big improvement on yesterday. I gave the place a little nod of approval. Still, I did not go inside. A smart Poppy appreciates good hospitality, but churches remain firmly on my list of places that are better inspected from the outside.
As we set off to find Blue, I made an important discovery: we had somehow ended up right back where we started, at Au Galichon. I looked up at Dad with my most innocent face, which is one of my cleverer faces. “Seconds?”
Back in Blue, we set off on another long ride. When she stopped at a place called Dinard, I knew at once this was not like St Suliac. I carried out a quick but expert assessment: yes, there was a beach, which was promising, but there were also hundreds and hundreds of peoplesees. Blue found a good resting spot right on the front, making it easy for Granny to get out for a walk. Sensible. I approved of that bit.
As we wandered along, I discovered a path that hugged the cliffs. My nose, which is rarely wrong, told me this was absolutely the way to go. I set off with purpose, then looked back at the Mum and Granny. Hurry up. This way.
I had never been anywhere quite like this before, so naturally I carried out a full Poppy assessment. High above the path stood grand houses, each with its own private path down to the sea and locked gates to stop any old peoplesees wandering through. The best parts of the path were the places where Mr Sun could not reach us. A smart Poppys knows when shade is available, and a slightly stubborn Poppy makes full use of it. So I chose a spot, stopped for a wee drink, and waited for everyone else to realise I was right.
It was getting on, and after a careful look I decided Granny looked a bit tired. Naturally, I took charge. I turned myself around and headed back, bringing Mum, Dad, and Granny with me.
On the way back to Blue, Dad suddenly stopped and stared at a beach hut door as if it contained some great mystery. I inspected it too, of course, but could see no biscuits, no interesting smells, and no obvious reason for the fuss. Then Dad did something very odd. He tied my lead to the handle and took a photo of me. I gave him a suspicious looks. What are you doing, Dad? “You wouldn’t get it, Poppy,” he said. Grrrr Dads can be stupid sometimes.
By the time we got back to the house, it was time for dinner. Since it was still lovely and warm, Dad and I stayed outside in the front garden. Dad lifted me onto the table where I could see over the wall and keep an eye on the world going by. Good Dad.
