Avignon

I am blogging a day behind, but in contrast to my steady weekend, I have had two busy and fulfilling days. I'll start with Monday. Having survived Sunday night, and breathed a sigh of relief that Becca would be filling the first room again from then on and any murderer/robber/deranged person would stumble across her room first*, giving me fair warning to arm myself (I've thought about this a lot), I got up with the priority of restocking the kitchen. I went to the supermarket, picking up an 'escargot chocolat' at a little boulangerie...

 

further evidence against Kate Moss' infamous 'nothing tastes as good as skinny feels'

...and managed to get most things on my list.

At lunch time I took the bus into Avignon. I almost missed it because earlier in the week Becca and I had bought 'un carnet de tickets' (a book of tickets) which are 16€ for 10 tickets (the equivalent of 20€ worth of tickets), and of course two minutes before I planned to leave the apartment, I just quickly double checked I had the carnet with me. Could I find it? I searched the room twice, in the drawers, in coat pockets, in the bathroom, in my make up bag, and searched my purse three or four times, hoping it would miraculously appear. In the end I left without it, and had to run to jump on the bus, using the opportunity of not having my ticket to use up some change paying for one. 'Oooh la la,' the driver said, shaking his head, when I dropped the handful of coins in his hand. And so, the bus set off, and I was on the way to Avignon.

Which was stunning. It has an ancient town centre, surrounded by medieval ramparts, which are some of the few still intact in french cities. One long street 'la rue de la Republique' runs down the centre, and I wandered slowly between the shops before ending up in 'La Place de l'Horloge'.

A beautiful wide open square, with restaurants and cafes, people sitting and eating in the bright sunshine, it was picturebook french life. At the top of 'La Place' the two main tourist sights of Avignon were signposted, and I followed the streets lined with provençal souvenirs round to 'palais des papes' (according to Wikipedia one of the largest and most important medieval Gothic buildings in Europe) and I stopped here, and sat in the sun, to have some raspberry sorbet and recharge my batteries.

Then I turned back and followed the other fork, to the famous 'Pont D'Avignon'. The bridge spans the Rhône River and was first built between 1177 and 1185, as legend tells by a local shepherd boy (Saint Bénézet) who was commanded by angels to build a bridge across the river. In the 17th century a dramatic flood swept away most of the structure. Now only four of the 22 arches remain, but it is still incredibly beautiful and a photo doesn't quite do it justice. It would have been a lovely place to sit and eat or have a picnic by the river but time was pressing on and I had promised to meet Becca at Avignon TGV.

 Back through the city, to the other side, I jumped on the shuttle bus that runs between the two stations and was at the TGV station where I met Becca. This was the first real tug on the heartstrings- when I heard the train announced that would take me back to London, and the thought that just four weeks before, Mum and Dad and I had been in the same place, ready for our holiday together, with none of the angst and trepidation (for me) of what doing it alone in a foreign country entails. But soon Becca was with me and we went to catch the bus; I opened my purse and there was my carnet de ticket, in plain view. I am too young to be going mad! Soon we were on our way back to Apt, catching up, and arriving in time for dinner at the canteen and the very best thing of all, to keep you feeling positive when you're away from the people you love- post!

Thank you so much, Mum, Dad and Rosie

*joking Becca!