I’ve been writing for a while now about my life here in France, about the places, the adjustments, the beauty of it all. But there’s someone who has been with me through every step, every move, every uncertain beginning, Lucy, my dog, my loyal companion. You’ve met her before. But this time, I thought I’d let her do the talking. Here’s traveling through France with a dog: Lucy’s Perspective’
The World According to Lucy
I knew something was up the moment the box with wheels came out. It always starts the same way. The closet opens. The box appears and then very casually, as if I wouldn’t notice Mom begins placing things inside. I watch, I always watch her. Then comes the smaller bag, the one with my bowls and food. At this point, I don’t need confirmation, I know. We’re going somewhere and honestly? I’m in. The destination is irrelevant. What matters is this: we’re together. Then comes the question except it’s not really a question.
“Do you want to go for a car ride?”
Yes!
Yes, I do.!! But what I am really hearing is: Do you want to go surfing? Because that’s what it is, it’s not driving but surfing.
The car fills with Mom, her daughter (my step, technically), and me. We settle in as time passes, the road begins to curve, back and forth, back and forth, like the car has suddenly decided to dance. When we stop we are greeted with cold air, snow and ice. Mom walks slower here, very carefully and slowly on the ice. I do my business efficiently because let’s be honest, the sooner I finish, the sooner I get the good road treats and fresh water. Back in the car, I decide this is cutting into my nap schedule and rest.
The Cable Car Experience
Next stop, this place is new and different. Outside it’s cold again and the ground is covered again by ice and lots of people coming and going. There is not much grass, which feels like a design flaw, if you ask me. Mostly rocks, lots of decorative rocks everywhere in front of stores and alongside the roads it all looks very confusing. We end up standing at a place right after some large rocks. We stand in line. I don’t love lines. Nothing good has ever come from standing still for that long.
Then suddenly we’re inside a moving metal box. But not like the car this one is hanging from the sky. We are… floating? Up we go higher and higher. The trees get smaller and the air gets thinner (Mom looks like she’s thinking a lot and looking out of the window down below I smell a bit of nervousness coming from her).
The floor is cold, but the view? Even I can admit it’s something. At the top the snow is up to my snout. Now this is more like it. My step and I ran up the trail even higher. She is a very fast runner. Everywhere is white with lots of wind. Mom stays a bit more grounded she’s not a fan of heights. I don’t fully understand that we are clearly already very high.
Apres Cable Car
Eventually, we went inside and it’s finally warm and the smell, Oh, the smell. I appear to be the only one of my kind here, which works in my favor. I receive lots of attention, some delicious treats, pieces of real sausage and admiration as it should be. Mom is eating what I can only describe as a bucket of cheese. She dips bread into it like this is a normal, everyday activity. I love France.
Here is a popular cable car in France! Aiguille du Midi
The Train (not my favorite) – Traveling Through France with a dog
Then came the long, fast container, the one where I had to wear a muzzle. Let’s pause here, a muzzle. The indignity! There were seats, many seats, empty comfortable looking seats. Seats I could have easily occupied. But no. I was assigned to the carpeted floor. Actually, it wasn’t terrible, the floor was carpeted as well and I am resilient. But would I choose it again? No!
The Spinning Glass Bubble
There was also the time we entered a glass container that moved… in circles. Round and round we went. I could see everything, the lake, the city, the people below. It wasn’t cold out. I could lie down and still look out. It was… fine. Not thrilling, though. But Mom? She loved it and that mattered. Sometimes the best part of an experience is watching someone else be happy in it.
The VW Polo – The winner for traveling through France with a dog
If you’re asking me, really asking me, there is no contest. The best place in the world is the back seat of the Polo. Window down, ears flapping and nose forward smelling at a high rate of speed, surfing! Through town and countryside. The smells tell the story before we even arrive, clover in the fields, something delicious drifting out of a restaurant, the deep, grounding scent of pine and earth as we move through the mountains. This is travel, as far as I’m concerned. Traveling through France with a dog? I highly recommend this!
If I had to sum it all up, I wouldn’t travel to the destination. I travel for proximity. Are my people near? Are there snacks? Everything else is just… scenery. If you think transportation has been an adventure, just wait.
Stay tuned for next week. There’s a place we go every week in the morning where the ground is covered in possibility, the air is thick with all sorts of delicious smells, cooked sausage and chicken. I’m fairly certain it was created just for my kind people on top of that the food appears at a height that feels… negotiable.
They call it a farmer’s market. I call it the ultimate test of character.
Stay tuned for my next installment: my complicated love/hate relationship with the farmer’s market..
Thanks for being here,
-Lucy
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