Feeling like a local

We are just shy of the three month mark but I am beginning to feel like a local. I often forget that everyone around me speaks a different language. I see something interesting and go to read the information sign and am brought back to reality when I realize I can't read it. And actually I am sometimes able to make out at least the gist of it, often with the help of Google Translate. I can find my way around the old part of town pretty well now and am gradually expanding the boundaries of the known world. Clay and I have both had people stop us to ask for directions so we must at least look like we know where we are and what we are doing. He's a good ways ahead of me in this regard, but I am getting there. I can't say that my language skills are greatly improved, but perhaps slightly improved anyway, and I have a plan to continue studying when my class ends at the end of the month. 

We've found a boarding kennel that looks good for Bailey and we plan to visit it sometime soon. Once we have a secure place for her that I feel comfortable with, we'll start planning some excursions by train. 

Bailey and I get out for a half hour walk early in the morning and then a much longer walk in the afternoon that includes a visit to the dog park. That afternoon walk may not happen today, however, because a storm from the Atlantic is blowing in here today with strong wind and a fair amount of rain. I skipped class this morning and have been cooking today instead. I made another batch of gazpacho, a salad, and a salmon quiche so far. Next up is some sort of sausage and cabbage dish with ingredients we bought at a local market this week. 

We have tickets to another concert at the opera house this evening. 

The thing that made me feel most like a local, that made feel like I live here, was yelling at a motorist. When you're a tourist in a strange town, you watch out for traffic, never sure of the rules or the deference given to pedestrians. But in your own town, you tend to walk about like you own the place, or at least like you know what you're doing and what you expect drivers to do. Bailey and I were crossing the street to enter the Citadelle. It's a wide, cobblestone walk, but it's a crosswalk, we had green pedestrian lights giving us the go ahead. I think the car came from a side street, maybe didn't realize it was a crosswalk, I don't know, but it came uncomfortably close and I said a few choice words. It would have been even better if I could have said it in French. Life goals. 

One of the locks on the Deule. 

There's a circus in town. I think we'll try to go some day next week.

There's a small brewery just down the street from us. The beer is good. 

We took Bailey on a slow evening. She doesn't enjoy it like Maya did, but she was good.

More dog park fun.

Bailey is good with the smaller dogs, but she most enjoys one her own size and speed.

I am fascinated by the canal and the shipping traffic that still uses it. There is good walking trail on both sides and I think we could go on it for many miles.

We crossed over and went beyond our normal route yesterday for an adventure.

The old port of Dunkirk included a series of stepped ramparts along the river/canal that was built for defensive purposes. The site isn't used for anything anymore. They don't exactly invite access, but they don't prohibit it either, as near as I could tell. Bailey and I went in and walked to the top. The best view of the site is actually a satellite photo on Google. You can see what looks like stepped pyramids in the shape of the Citadelle. 

Those two stone posts and two stone block buildings are all that remain of the Port of Dunkirk. 

Bailey and I will venture in here some day and get some better pictures. The city uses it as basically a maintenance yard currently. 

I've posted pictures of the grazing sheep that they use to cut the grass on the green space around the Citadelle. The sheep are still around, but yesterday we were surprised to find a group of ponies and donkeys being grazed there too.