Charlie’s tale — a French adventure
by Charlie Ogg, Houston, TX. Photos by Jack Ogg
My name is Charlie Ogg. I’m a 6½-pound “silky,” which is the blond Yorkshire terrier. I’m a little vague on my background because I’m a rescue dog, but I do remember finding my “Mimi” and “Papa.” Sadly, my Mimi died of cancer over a year ago, but Papa and me are very tight, which brings me to my story.
Charlie’s adventure begins
In November ’11, Papa took me to France. I got to ride in Air France’s first-class section because my carrying case and I weighed less than 13 pounds and I had had all of my shots and blood tests back home in Houston. My ticket cost only $200. We had a smooth flight.
We got to Paris early in the morning and got through Customs easily. Papa fixed my carrying case in the front seat of our rental car so I could stand up and see out the window.
Paris is a really pretty city. Papa showed me Notre Dame Cathedral, the “Champ Eelsay,” the “Ifell Tower,” the “Tool Trees Gardens” and “Monmarty” plus a lot of places I can’t pronounce. I think I liked the gardens best because we got out and walked around awhile. There were lots of new smells and several trees for me to “inspect.”
We ate indoors at a quaint little restaurant because it had started to rain. I sat in a chair next to Papa and he gave me bites of his food. The owner was so nice; he even brought me a little bowl of water to drink.
That’s the nicest thing about France. I was allowed to go into places that I’m not allowed to go into at home, and everyone was really welcoming.
It rained the rest of the day, so we stayed in our little hotel about 20 miles outside of Paris (Les Jardins d’Epône, 200 ave. de la Mauldre, Epône — €75, or $93, plus a pet fee of $10). We ate in their restaurant and, again, the people were so nice to me. They petted me and got me water and a little plate of some soft cheese. Boy, was it good!
On to Normandy
After breakfast and a morning walk, we left for the Normandy coast. Papa said Normandy had some historic beaches that he and Mimi had seen several years before during a big celebration.
We first stopped in a town to see a museum that had a big rug wrapped around the wall. I think it was called the “Bayo Taptree” (Bayeux Tapestry). Papa spoke to a man who apparently was the alpha male, because everyone listened to him. The man said that the rug was made in honor of William the somebody, who won a fight hundreds of years before. There were even pictures of funny-looking dogs and horses on it.
After that, we went to eat at The Golden Lion, although Papa called it something else in French (Le Lion d’Or, 71 rue Saint-Jean, Bayeux). It was so nice, with covers on the tables and pretty glasses and plates.
Papa ordered some kind of “grass” (foie gras), but it looked like liver to me. They gave me a little bit of it. That was good, too! I’m going to recommend it to my cousins, Pumpkin and Cricket. The meal cost of €67 included lobster for the main meal.
We went out to the Normandy beaches and I got to play in the sand with a couple of other boy dogs. They had funny names and I couldn’t understand what they said, but we played until I was tired.
Next we went to a cemetery. I wasn’t allowed past a certain point, so I had to watch from the locked car. There were lots of white Xs and stars in rows. It was real quiet except for a man blowing on a horn while a big flag came down a pole.
St. Lô
We continued to a nearby town that I think was called “Stay Low” (St. Lô). We found a beautiful place to stay outside of town called “All Bears” (L’Auberge, 20 rue de Villedieu).
After we checked in, about 12 other people arrived in different groups to spend the night, and we all sat down to eat. Everyone had beautiful plates, glasses and silverware, and I got to sit at the table like everyone else.
The hotel owners had a dog and a cat whom I met when we first arrived, but the cat ran away and the dog growled at me.
After about 2½ hours the humans were through, and we all headed for our beds. Our room (€65) was on one side of the house, but we had to go outside to get in it.
The next morning it was windy and cold when I took my walk. I was glad to go in for breakfast.
The dog who lived there was friendlier to me than she had been the night before. I did pick up from her that even though she was fairly large, she got to sleep indoors. They also fed her “people” food, and occasionally she went to the butcher shop with her humans.
Papa and I had a wonderful breakfast of scrambled eggs with cheese, cold meat and hot bread (croissants) with thick butter. Papa ate some really black sausage and gave me a couple of bites. It was strong tasting but good.
The Cherbourg Peninsula
We packed, then sort of crisscrossed the Cherbourg Peninsula. (I guess it was named after the American singer Cher.) We saw more beaches and two lighthouses.
That night we stayed in Quinéville, a little town that has a square with buildings around it. Our room was on the second floor of a little hotel, so we had to carry Papa’s luggage and my pack up the stairs. The hotel had pretty flowered wallpaper, but the hall light kept going off after about only a minute or so.
Papa had a good meal of lamb ribs and round sliced potatoes with melted cheese on them, but he gave me only a couple of bites, since I ate some of my food from the little cartons we had brought from back home.
The next day we drove along the ocean side of the peninsula, stopping at several places to take walks. We stayed in a nice little town called “Grannyville” (Granville), but I didn’t see that many grannies, so Papa would have to tell you why it’s named that.
We ate seafood at a restaurant that Papa said was named after the big castle above the town. I liked all the different kinds of seafood, but the lobster was the best.
We stayed outside of town in an old farmhouse with a big stone fireplace. The bed was nice and soft and had a thick cover that really kept us warm. I usually sleep on top of the covers, but it was cold enough that I got underneath with Papa that night.
The next morning we took a walk up a path above the ocean, then we drove down to a point where we could see a huge church on a big rock island with water almost all the way around it. Papa called it Mont-Saint-Michel. We drove as far as we could and walked the rest of the way.
We went up through the gates and into a beautiful restaurant (La Mère Poulard, Grand Rue BP 18, Mont-Saint-Michel). Papa said that the lady who started it, I think her name was Madame “Pure Lard,” was famous for her omelets, so he ordered an omelet with lobster, plus lobster soup (total meal, €89). I sat next to Papa at the table, with all the pretty dishes, and some girls even took my picture.
We drove on to St. Malo and got a room inside the walled city at the Hotel La Rance (15 Qaui Sébastopol), a quaint place facing the sea. The lady and her husband helped us with our luggage, since our room was on the top floor and there wasn’t an elevator.
Our room (€65) had a low ceiling and Papa kept bumping his head on the beams. I would have laughed, but it might have made him mad.
Next, we went to Cancale, a town about 10 miles down the coast. It is the oyster capital of Brittany.
Papa ate an order of raw oysters at the waterfront market (about €12 for a dozen), then had a second order with his meal at a small restaurant called Le Surcouf (Quai Gambetta 7) while I ate some lunch meat and cheese (total, €61). When it began to rain, we went back to our hotel and sacked out.
Emerald Coast
The next morning we went down to the port for our trip to the British islands of Jersey and Guernsey, about 15 to 20 miles off the Brittany coast.
Before we left home, I had gotten all my shots, tests and papers. However, the Brits in charge wouldn’t let us go to the islands. Even though I had my Pet Passport, we found that we also had to have paperwork filled out on British forms. (Be sure to check which forms are needed for each country you plan to visit. For more information, visit www.pettravel.com.)
Papa was nice at first, then he got madder and madder. One of the people suggested that Papa leave me in a kennel, but he said he wasn’t leaving me with strangers in a strange place 5,000 miles from home. I was relieved. Papa got his ticket money back for the ferry and we left.
We drove along the Emerald Coast through Dinard and out to “Cap Frail” (Cap Fréhel). We walked out to the point, where there was a huge lighthouse, but it was closed to the public. Then Papa drove us along the coast, taking pictures until almost dark.
We stayed in a big, castle-like place in Les Rosaires, on the coast, and, although it had 12 rooms for rent, we were the only guests there. It was a good thing Papa wasn’t hungry, because they only served breakfast.
On to Crozon
After breakfast the next day, we drove to Brest, the biggest city in western Brittany, then on to the Crozon Peninsula and up Mt. Ménez-Hom. While it didn’t compare to high mountains, it was almost 1,200 feet high and was flat on the top, with no trees.
The winds were blowing 40 to 50 mph and it was so cold. In the spring and summer, people run and jump off the mountain, riding their parachutes down to the valley below.
In our next town, Quimper, our room (€90) at the Hotel Gradlon (30 rue de Brest) was nice and large. We ate at a unique restaurant called Chez Erwan (3 rue Aristide Briand), named after the owner, Chef Erwan Heigue. What a nice man! He visited our table and gave me special attention and my own plate of meat and cheese.
Papa ordered a dish called Kig Ha Farz, which is served in two courses (€53). Erwan explained that first comes a bowl of broth with bits of cabbage plus brown bread to dip. That’s followed by a huge platter of meat, including a pork shank, a slab of bacon, a beef shoulder steak and a large marrowbone, all served over a layer of carrots and dumplings. They also brought a small pitcher of butter.
Papa ate most of the broth and bread and a lot of the meat, but he couldn’t finish it. He even gave me a few nibbles.
The next morning we had breakfast on the quaint patio at the hotel before heading out to a peninsula that I think had something to do with corn (the Cornouaille Penisula). We visited the Pointe du Raz, one of the western-most spots of continental France, and saw some more lighthouses, then we drove to the Quiberon Peninsula. After several stops for pictures of the coast, we went to the town of Carnac to look at the megalithic monuments reminiscent of the famous Stonehenge in England.
A scary situation
In the small town of Trinité-sur-Mer, we checked into a nice hotel (Hotel Ostrea, Cours des quais — €105). Papa and I went for a walk on the marina, and for some strange reason I decided to jump over the small rail. I fell 12 to 15 feet down to the water and went “ker splash” into a boat slip. I looked at the concrete blocks and knew that I couldn’t get out.
I looked up at Papa, and he must have seen the desperation in my eyes because he jumped into the water from the marina in his clothes and shoes. He swam to me and got me safely on a little ledge, then he hollered for help.
After about 10 minutes, two men heard him and let a rope ladder down. Papa climbed onto the ladder with me in his arms and we got out. The whole thing scared the daylights out of me, but I was so glad we were okay. Boy, I’ll never do that again!
Back at the hotel, Papa told the woman at the restaurant what had happened. She was so nice to us. She fixed Papa soup and a sandwich and gave me a plate of meat and cheese.
No place like home
The last two days of our trip were anticlimactic. We drove to the city of “Ants” (Nantes) and stayed in the Hotel Graslin (1 rue Piron). It was really nice, and we had a really good Italian meal at the restaurant next door.
We went along the Loire River and saw some big castles. Papa told me that a lot of kings and queens lived there several hundred years ago.
We spent our last night in Paris at the beautiful Hilton Hotel at the airport. Papa gave me a bath and brushed my hair. He said I looked handsome.
The flight to Houston was fine until we got ready to land and a huge rainstorm forced us to detour to San Antonio. We waited about an hour on the tarmac before going back to Houston. As soon as we cleared Customs and got out of the airport, I found the nearest tree. After 15 hours, what a relief!
Our quiet vacation to France turned out to be a bowlful of excitement. On the one paw, I’d like to take another trip with Papa, but, on the other paw, maybe I’d better be careful what I wish for.