Europe Trip - Day 4 Part 3 - Bayeux
Our last leg of the journey for the day, after our lunching in Honfleur, we climbed onto the coach one last time to travel another hour west along the coast to Bayeux. A few miles from the English Channel, still in the Calvados department of the Normandy region, one of the places we visited was the Tapestry museum. It’s feature; a tapestry which is almost 70 meters long and 50 centimetres tall, depicting the Norman conquest of England and how William, Duke of Normandy became William the conqueror, after his victory over Harold the greedy and incompetent. (I may be over-simplifying…. but it’s worth a google search for the story). Unfortunately we were not allowed to take any photos in the gallery, with or without flash.
We had a little bit of free time after our tapestry viewing and it was recommended we go check out the church nearby (Yet another Notre Dame). The church itself was, of course, impressive as hell. But one of my favourite moments of the day, was right after emerging from the church. I was walking around the perimeter, taking photos and I heard a familiar noise.
“BA-ROOOOOOOO!”
English or French, I knew that noise.
“OMG! A BEAGLE!” I muttered as my feet were already taking off of their own accord to seek out the sound. Missing my own beagle, several thousand kilometres away, I needed to see that dog and I’m thankful the French are so fond of their dogs. I ran around the church until I spotted the dog and its owner up toward the rear of the church (so if I’d just run the other way, I would have been closer and also not had to run uphill).
“Oh God… what am I going to say?” I thought as I huffed and puffed, finally slowing right down so as not to startle/freak out the owner. “Uhh…. J’Adore votre chien!” I said when I finally caught up to him.
“Oh! Merci!” He said. Once again, I opted to make as much use of my French as I could. In somewhat broken sentences, I explained that I was visiting, from Canada, and that I was seriously missing my dog and how beagles have such a distinctive voice I had to come around. The gentleman seemed pleased that I was putting in the effort and didn’t automatically switch to English like some of the people I would encounter over the trip. He asked about where in Canada I was from and how old was my beagle and the sort of pleasant chit-chat you would expect. He said the dog’s name was “Flugot” (I'm pretty sure that’s what he said, pronounced “flue-goh”). Flugot was a little nervous and even though he smelled my hands without hesitation, he still barked at me. I didn’t hold it against him though, he kept smelling me and did, after a minute or so, let me pat him. Just like Buster when he’s uncertain of someone/something new.
At any rate, it was a nice little moment, and as I joined Betty and Dwayne, walking back to the coach, I realized how I really am pretty much Buddy the Elf at times when I proudly announced to them “So I just met a dog. That was pretty awesome.”
We hopped back on the coach and drove to what would be our home for the next two nights, the Novotel. We had the evening free and many of us took the opportunity to start to get to know each other around the dinner table in the hotel. It was a lovely way to end the day.
