Yesterday I walked seven miles. Three and a half going to the vet for EU dog passports and three and a half back. Here in France I don't have a car, and only guide dogs for the blind are allowed on public transportation. But it was a great walk! It's more than twice what I was walking around Lincolnshire Lake in Virginia, but the level ground and perfect temperature (low sixties farenheit) made it one of the best outings I've had in a while.
The map above shows the approximate route we took and the distance. I didn't use Michel's home address as the starting point, but it's a similar distance as the Waziers city center so it makes only a negligible difference in mileage. For me, the most beautiful parts of Waziers can't be seen from a car. There's a gorgeous park that I'll post about another day and the pedestrian road between Waziers and Douai is just brilliant. Here's a shot of one tunnel that we traveled through. You can see the graffiti painted on it. Street art is popular in Europe and generally well received by the public as long as it's in good taste. I can see why!
Other interesting sights can be found off the beaten path. Does anyone know what make and model of car this is?
Douai is a medium-sized city just southwest of Waziers. With a history that dates back to the Middle Ages, it is a thriving commercial area and public transportation hub with features that are both modern and old world.
We ended up walking straight through the city of Douai, from one side to the other. More than other cities of comparable size that I've visted, French cities like Douai are very oriented toward foot traffic. Nearly every surface street bridge has bicycle or pedestrian lanes and directional signage is everywhere. Item of note: you can see me in the photo below! The glass cover of the city map makes it look almost like it displays a user profile picture of me. See my little red iPhone? LOL
In this part of the world, the eighteenth century lies just beneath the pavement. Many of the streets are still cobbled, and old brickwork still peeks through the modern asphalt as if determined to keep us all mindful of the region's history.
Near the halfway point of our journey, we passed through Parc Charles Bertin. Such a breathtaking place! It photographs beautifully and the vibe there is very peaceful. I'm reminded of city parks in Savannah, which inspire the same kind of hush and respect for nature.
And then there were the chestnut trees, or châtaigne here in France. Tall, majestic, and very prolific with their fruits, which lay scattered over the ground like large brown marbles.
Sweet Chestnut trees grow everywhere in Europe, unlike the American Chestnut that has nearly been blighted into extinction in the U.S. Their wood is very durable, resistant to rot, and they can grow back from a stump. Unfortunately for this tree, that didn't happen. But staring at the place where it once stood tall and proud, I couldn't help but wonder what this tree had witnessed over the course of its life, and how many decades of French growth and change had passed in the shade of its branches.
France is a nation where imaginations are filled with whimsy, where art matters, and beauty is appreciated. I saw this feature in Parc Charles Bertin and after I gasped with delight, I was hit with strong regret that the tree shaped to form it had died and now its days were numbered. I took several photos as I approached, lamenting the future loss of this wonderful, once-living sculpture. I had walked all the way to it and placed my hand on its rough surface before it hit me--this was made of concrete! Not a dead tree at all, but WOW the detail. Truly remarkable, this piece.
Between the park and our destination lay another mile and a half of walking. Because of lupus and the damage it's done to my cardiovascular system, I have difficulty tolerating this much activity. But these days I have Milo! He was not swathed in official service dog patches just to get him on the airplane. This dog is a real working dog. He does a fantastic job for me. The following video is not very long, but it shows how he is advancing with his training and how he assists me with mobility in ways that a cane or even a wheelchair never could.
After two hours of walking, we had our destination in sight. The goal was to have Dr. Duval perform a new wellness exam so he could issue EU Passports for all dogs, as well as administer the parasite control measures required no more than 120 hours before entry into the United Kingdom.
Thirteen months ago at SF3, I would have never believed that the same ponytailed head I followed all over Krakow the Monday after closing drinks would be right there in front of me at a French veterinary clinic, checking our dogs in for their appointments.
Dr. Duval impressed me. I'm a cynic when it comes to veterinarians and die-hard loyal to Dr. Taylor back in the U.S. But Dr. Taylor--I think you'd like Dr. Duval and this clinic. You'd certainly approve of their Royal Canin prescription foods and the flea and tick prevention they endorse.
The exam room looked like any modern veterinary exam room in the States.
Tori was not as impressed by Dr. Duval as I was.
Neither was Paige.
Milo, on the other hand, approved of him enough to go flop down beside his desk as Dr. Duval completed the passports.
Afterward, beside the front desk as we completed the visit, Tori had some difficulty deciding if she would rather stand or lie down. Or maybe this version of the "high-heeled shoe" was just her yoga pose for the day. She stayed in this position for over a minute while clients in the waiting area smiled and pointed.
The walk back to Waziers was long. We were all tired, and Milo showed signs of significant fatigue from so much harness work. So I was on my own much of the way, walking him with just the leash. We made it, though, every step of the way. I took a nap and he curled up beside me under the cover with only his paws and nose peeking out. Such a good boy, that Milo. He's worth his weight in gold to me.
