Saint-Malo Saint- Lunaire and a Kebab
Yesterday was washing day, so everyone had a lazy day. I call it supervised resting. Mum and Dad went to the market in Dinan, while I stayed in the garden with Granny and took charge of security, comfort, and any suspicious pigeons. Today, though, Blue clearly felt we had rested enough. She carried us out of Dinan and towards the coast, rolling along for miles until she stopped in a very busy place called Saint-Malo. Finding somewhere for Blue to rest took ages. I began to suspect Saint-Malo had been built by peoplesees who had forgotten that wee dog’s cars require space to rest. At last, Blue found a spot near a great big gate in the city walls. I looked at it carefully. Gates, in my experience, usually mean something on the other side worth inspecting.
We went through and wandered round the old city, all stone streets, tall buildings, and tempting corners that needed a right good sniff. Eventually we reached the walls on the far side, I noticed steps, well steps are meant to be climbed. Up we went onto the ramparts, where I made another excellent discovery. This was much better. More space, more views, and, best of all, off-lead time. From the top, we could see Dinard across the water. I gave it a thoughtful look. We had been there a few days ago, but from up here it looked quite different. Places do that sometimes.
Back in Blue, we set off again, this time in search of the seaside and, more importantly, lunch. The plan was to visit a place called Saint-Briac-sur-Mer. I sat up smartly, because any plan involving the sea and food grabs my attention. When Blue arrived, however, we discovered a serious problem. Saint-Briac-sur-Mer was very pretty, but there was nowhere to eat. Pretty is all very well, but it does not fill a Poppy tummy. After a careful assessment of the empty tummy situation, I agreed that Blue should move on and find somewhere with food.
Blue carried us on to another seaside town called Saint-Lunaire. After circling the town centre a few times, looking for somewhere sensible to stop, she finally found a place to rest. I stepped out ready to hunt down some lunch, because only Poppys have super noses. First, we went down to the beach to find a café called La Paillote. Unfortunately, it had burned down, which I thought was a very poor effort from a café that was supposed to be feeding people. Back up the hill we went, and there in town we found a café called The Little Place. I gave it a careful look. Tables. Chairs. Peoplesees eating. No obvious disaster. “This looks all right, Dad,” I decided. “You’re right, Poppy. This will do,” said Dad. We settled ourselves down for lunch, and I am pleased to report that The Little Place was, in fact, a very good little place.
After lunch, we had a little plod around the town. There were streets to sniff, corners to consider, and several important pee mails that deserved proper attention. Then Mum announced that we had to head home, because we were going into Dinan for dinner later. A smart Poppy does not object to leaving one meal behind when another one is already waiting in the plan.
That evening, Blue took us into Dinan and stopped at a big square so we could go for dinner. We set off through the old streets, which were full of wonderful smells drifting out of doorways and corners. Dad, however, kept hurrying me along because we had a table waiting at Atypik. I was not entirely pleased. A smart Poppy knows that smells do not simply investigate themselves. Still, dinner was very good. I had my usual, and then Dad shared some of his duckies with me. This put a right good wag in my tail. Poppys, as everyone should know, loves of duckies.
After dinner, there was still time for a little more exploring, which I thought was only fair. A town like Dinan does not reveal all its secrets in one visit, and a sensible Poppy does not leave important smells unchecked.
There were smells everywhere. Old stone smells, dinner smells, doorway smells, and tiny mysterious smells hiding in corners. I inspected as many as I could, because Dinan was clearly a town with secrets, and Poppys do not ignore evidence.
I looked up at Dad, quite seriously. “We should have come here sooner,” I decided. “There are smells in every direction, and I have only had one small evening to study them properly. Why did no one bring me here during the day?” It was a fair question. Dinan, I was beginning to suspect, had been keeping its best secrets from me.
Soon Blue took us back to our house, which was sensible, because even clever explorers need their beauty sleep. Besides, there was a big day coming tomorrow, and I wanted to be properly rested before we moved on to our next adventure.