Lunch in Lehon
This morning, we all took our time getting up, which I approved of very much. A clever wee Westie knows that holidays should begin slowly, especially when there is a whole new place to study properly. Later, we were going into the village for lunch, which sounded like an excellent plan. The village was very quiet, so I was allowed off leash. I trotted beside the river, nose working through all the interesting clues in the air, then we climbed up towards the abbey. Beside the abbey was Café Gloutons, and from the evidence of tables, chairs, and delicious smells, I knew that lunch was waiting there.
Inside the walls, a band had set up in the courtyard, where tables and chairs filled the space. I took one careful look around and decided this was clearly where important lunch business happened. Mum and Granny went to fetch food returning with some ham and cheese for me. Just as we began to eat, the sky started to cry. Poor Granny sat with her cardigan over her head to keep dry, while Mum’s plate of food quickly turned into a tiny swimming pool. Mum reacted quickly and moved us to a table with a large umbrella above it. Good Call. The band hurried inside, and all the other peoplesees dashed for cover. Soon the sky’s crying faded to a little whimper, and then it stopped completely. Mum and Granny got up and headed across the courtyard for lunch, take two.
After lunch, we went to explore Léhon properly. I made a careful inspection and quickly concluded that it was a very old village, with a large church standing importantly in the middle. Best of all, there were no cars, which made it an excellent place for nosing around.
We plodded down to the big church and I carried out a careful sniffing inspection around the outside. Poppys are not allowed inside, which seemed a little unfair, but I have seen the inside of churches before, and they smell old, dusty, and yukky. Not nearly as good as a path, a garden, or somewhere serving ham and cheese.
Leaving the church behind, I spotted an old bridge. Now, any sensible Poppy knows that bridges are not just for crossing. Bridges are for investigating. Obviously I needed to know what was on the other side. The bridge led to a path, which raised an important question. Where did it go? I looked up at Mum. “This path takes you all the way to Dinan, Poppy,” she said. All the way? I considered this very seriously. Dinan sounded interesting, but my legs had already done a lot of work, and I am far too smart to waste good energy without snacks. So I stood my ground, gave Mum one of my looks, and decided that Dinan could wait until it had made itself a little more convenient.
Back at the house, I made an executive decision. After all that investigating, my wee legs deserved a proper rest, preferably in the back garden where I could keep one eye on everything. Mum and Dad were going into town, which was fine by me. “Don’t worry,” I thought. “I’ll stay here and make sure Granny is all right.”
When they came back, we had an easy night, which was exactly as I had predicted and, frankly, arranged. Dad sat in the front garden drinking his daft juice, while Mum, Granny, and I settled in for the evening’s entertainment: the cat and pigeon show. It was getting late and time for bed bows. Tomorrow is going to be a big day.
