Bill and I walk to the village square first thing to try another bakery for croissants and bread. I consider the new bakery’s croissants PERFECT: moist on the inside and flakey on the outside. The bread at this bakery, however, it nothing special. One more bakery to go!
Our destination today is Collioure!! It’s probably our favorite place in France. We have been here many times usually staying at the Hartley’s condo a month each time. When we had our black poodle, Leo, he had the back garden memorized.
He loved it there; it was like home.
Howard remembers a small, out-of-way parking lot that should have spaces available. It can be difficult to park in this picturesque village. We find it like it was just yesterday that we were here. A very nice man helps us with the parking payment. It should be easy for us to pay but it isn’t! Thank goodness for kind French people. On the short walk into town we show the Donovan’s the footprints made by Leo and Lucien on an earlier trip as they crossed over some wet cement. Our doggies have made a mark in Collioure!
As we stroll the small alley-ways and have our first glimpse of the harbor,
I remember why I love this place! (As if I needed reminding!) We sit down at one of the numerous cafés by the water and order Sangria. What more could we ask for? Calm and quiet dogs, that’s what!
Lucien quickly takes a liking to the man just next to us. He leans into him as the nice man scratches his ear. Toby never misses a dog that goes by. He is constantly vigilant for invading dogs. His uproar over those invaders gets the other two dogs going and it’s a mess. Toby will let me cover his eyes if I see another dog approaching. He must be saying to me “Save me from myself!”
We really enjoy our Sangrias so we order a pitcher for the next round. Even though I’d love to have lunch at one of the better restaurants, we are settled with the dogs so we decide to have lunch seaside. That means a salad and tapas menu.
We have a modest lunch and a good bit of luscious sangria at harbor-side cafe because the dogs are reasonably settled and we’d rather not bother them. Howard has a great plate of tapas–I wish I’d ordered that. Karen and I have a Catalan salad: hard-boiled eggs, anchovies, tomatoes, olives. Bill has a salad with warm goat cheese on toast. We all enjoy our meals.
We take a walk by the water around the ancient fortress. We are reminded that one evening many years ago poor Leo got hit by a wave as we walked to dinner. I wrapped him up in my corduroy coat that has served me (and the dogs) well for many years. He warmed up in my coat in the restaurant and appeared not worse for the drenching.
On our way out of town we show the Donovan’s the place we stayed so many times. We are happy the Donovan’s appreciate this beautiful village as much as we do.