"AVIGNON - fascinating history" Avignon by sirgaw

It was a long train trip from Barcelona in Spain to Montpellier in France, but just somehow we managed to get into some mischief. While Sandra was enthroned in the trains loo we crossed the border between Spain and France. Time for me to have a smoko on the platform while the Spanish loco was cut from the front of the train and a pusher loco attached to the rear so we could be shoved onto the French rails. When we had crossed the French army came through the train looking for anyone suspicious - they failed to find my pocket knife or my ill-gotten Spanish carton of cigarettes - 2 Euro a pack cheaper in Spain. Sandra came out of the loo and had missed the whole lot.

Montpellier was a change of trains stop, however it was a an hour and a quater stop - time for lunch and numerous smokos outside for me. Back to the platform as we didn't have reserved seats (not available) and had to make sure we could get on and grab seats without too much injury to others. We scooted across the railway map of Provence and finally arrived in Avignon.

It was a hot day, so we asked a cabbie how much to the hotel - 9 Euro, however it was an easy 600 metre walk from the railway station - and off course the wheeled suitcases helped too.

Checked into the friendly Hotel du Palais des Papes (see tip) and found our quaint room complete with 4 poster bed. It was a pleasant room with an ancient window shuttering system that opened to reveal a partial view of the famous Palais du Papes, sadly the rooms aircon didn't work and so we called reception to fix. A woman came armed with a couple of large bottles of water, emptied the water into the unit and voila it worked - then we discovered the TV remote was missing and then found out we had to pay 20 Euro security deposit on same - seemed a bit crazy and we wondered if there was a security deposit on the bed and bedding as well - LOL

It was then time to get to know some of the fascinating town dominated by the 2 UNESCO World Heritage Listed sites - the former Palace of the Popes (actually called The Vatican at the time) and the Saint Bénezet Bridge, better known as the Bridge of Avignon that still spans some of the Rhone River. We wandered down to the Rhone River and admired the famous bridge, and as everything was closing down for the evening decided to head towards the shops before they too closed.

Almost time for dinner so we decided to save a bit and go to the supermarket in the main street and purchase at least our entree - pate and local bread who could ask for a finer start to a meal, which we enjoyed while sitting on a planter under a large shade tree and beside the Hotel de Ville while listening to the clarion chiming in the hour - the cost was about one sixth of the price in one of the restaurants that also lined the same square.

Then time for main course - we didn't really want to eat a full meal an one of the town squares sidewalk cafes as they did appear to be very expensive, but our travel accessories did not include a portable stove and saucepans, so at considerable cost had a steak au pouir each - yeah and had to pay 20 Euro. Dessert and coffee was a short walk away to a small take away bar 50 metres down a small side street and then back to the hotel and a hoped for early night.

While Sandra was pushing the 4 poster bed so she could access the cupboard, she accidentally knocked the glass shade off one of the reading lamps - it crashed to the tiled floor and smashed into shards. Cursing I got down and found all the pieces and put them into a plastic bag for disposal. I sneaked passed the reception desk and into the Place du Palais to find a street rubbish bin and so rid myself of the incriminating evidence of broken glass. While in the Place I heard the magnificent voice of a busking baritone and stayed to listen to some of his repertoire. He had chosen his spot well and the Place reverberated with his fine singing voice. While listening I struck up a conversation with a total stranger and discovered he came from my own city - Melbourne. Finally I returned to the hotel room and found myself in trouble with the "other half" again.

The hotel advertised a 7 Euro breakfast and we decided to enjoy their brekkie in a courtyard. Off course others could hear our English conversation and we were joined by a variety of English speaking travellers including a lone Australian lady traveller motorcycling around Europe.

After that longish breakfast time to start the exploration of the city - first to the pedestrian ferry that links the city to Isle de la Barthelasse in the Rhone River, where we walked and admired the view of the bridge and Palais. When we returned to the ferry station we discovered that we were to be left there as the staff were about to have their all important lunch and no ferries for 2 hours - my Aussie bush hat helped get us on board for the return trip and we wished the staff 'bon apetit.'

From the ferry a short walk to the Pont Saint-Benezet, better known as the famous Pont d'Avignon (see tip). We walked that bridge, climbed up and down ramparts and into as many of the bowels as we could while listening to the audio guide. I nearly fell off the bridge laughing when I heard of a wit, who many centuries ago quipped, "You can see on the bridge at any time 2 monks, 2 donkeys and 2 whores," and wondered just how riotous a place Avignon really was. Time for a quick lunch and then the rest of the day exploring the Palais des Papes (see tip) - home to 7 popes during the 1300's

The end of the tour of the Palais des Papes culminated at their gift/book shop (isn't that the way with every attraction?). While Sandra did some serious looking at things that we didn't need to buy, I laughed at a middle aged French couple who had each picked up a wooden children's sword and had a mock sword fight. We were soon challenged to the first ever Australia vs. France mock sword-fight mixed-doubles - not sure who won before the woman in charge of the gift shop threw us all out. My French is not good enough to translate exactly what she said, but it seemed to start with, "Merde . . ."

The hotel offered a "half board" option of a 3 course dinner with wine, bread, water and coffee for 25 Euro each and so we decided to lash out and dine under the stars in the adjacent Place du Palais with the spectacular backdrop of the Palais des Papes. We discovered that the waiter/manager of the restaurant is an Australian from Noosa in Queensland and I guess our nationality helped securing a fine meal. I was hoping for an encore performance from the busker baritone, but instead we were treated to art house films projected onto the walls and battlements of the Palais - in hindsight I would have preferred the baritone.

We retired to bed and for some strange reason (maybe the irreverent sword fight) we must have upset the ghosts of the former 7 popes. That night the heavens opened up with thunder, lightening and torrential rain.

The next morning and before breakfast I went out into the Place, found a large restaurant umbrella and while it was still raining had my first couple of gaspers (cigarettes) for the day. Sandra was busy putting on the war paint. I returned to the hotel lobby and was waiting to ask the receptionist a question when suddenly there was a loud crash and we watched in horror as firstly part of the ceiling of the lobby tumbled to the floor followed by a torrent of dirty water, mud, and bits of hotel. I don't think there is anything in the hotel receptionist training manual that covers such contingencies, so dressed in my clean clothes, I set about helping the limited number of staff in the clean up operation. Sheets and towels were thrown onto the water/mud mix to stop it spreading, antique furniture was moved and garbage bags and a shovel found to try and return the lobby to some semblance of order. Finally I returned to our hotel room and didn't get the chance to explain what had happened before 'Madam le Other Half' did what we Aussies call, 'a dummy spit.' I decided to let the hotel receptionist become my defence lawyer and so all was well. I suggested that at least 3 former popes be dug up and allowed to perform some sort of exorcism ceremony over the hotel, which we had already dubbed the French version of Faulty Towers - just how would John Cleese sound with a French accent? The hotel should have "shouted" us at least a full English breakfast as thanks, but didn't, so we had a McDonalds brekkie instead.

We had booked a coach tour to nearby St Remy, Les Baux and the UNESCO World Heritage Listed Pont du Gard for a 1.30pm departure, so after the McDonalds breakfast the rest of the morning was spent wandering the town and trying to find an internet cafe and the post office.

We boarded the coach and enjoyed the trip - see a separate page: Charming Les Baux-de-Provence and a travelogue (see below).

Finally we returned to Avignon and bade our thanks to our days hosts - the friendly tour guide and coach driver and walked back to our hotel to see what other trouble was in store for us.

We had seen a great looking Vietnamese/Chinese restaurant in a back street and enjoyed a 2 course meal including drinks for 25 Euro for both of us - far better value than the restaurants that lined the main square. After the 2 courses a brief stop at an internet cafe and then we found a Turkish place that sold us a coffee each and a tray of middle eastern sweet treats for the princely sum of 4.5 € - we dined well that night for a total cost for 2 of less than 30 €. We walked back towards the hotel via another back street and became lost in the darkness - and there seemed to be a diable (devil) in every nook and cranny watching us.

The next morning we checked out before breakfast and while scanning the bill discovered we'd been charged for a breakfast we didn't have. After that was fixed up a return to the McDonalds for their brunch only to discover they were not serving that morning. We found another place down the street on the way to the TGV rail station and our departure to Marseilles.