March 5
When we began planning this trip, we thought we would spend some time in the Provence area of France. One of our travel mentors (Tara & Phelim) suggested that we go to Grenoble instead because of its beauty and proximity to Switzerland. Somewhere along the way, Grenoble was scratched and we decided to go to Avignon for a couple of days …..good choice.
We took the train from Barcelona to Avignon. Just before the train took off, two heavily panting guys, schlepping their luggage, jumped on and sat across from us. They looked relieved…like us, they went to the wrong train station in Barcelona.
Unlike us, they almost left no room for error. Remember, we had learned our lesson in our London/Paris train ride so we were sitting relaxed as they were collapsed into their seats. Rick and David are from Long Beach and were on their second annual European trip. We shared tales of Paris and Barcelona. Their next destination was Nice. We would both be changing at Montpellier. 
It looked like an interesting looking city that had modern cable cars transporting the locals. We also noted, and now appreciated more, the beauty of the French desserts. Even in the train station the delicate pastries signaled that we were back in France.Our train for Avignon appeared. This leg of our journey did not required reservations so it was dog eat dog finding a seat…Ann jumped on the train looking for a private compartment for the two of us …I remained on the platform with our luggage...the conductor started talking to me in a language I did not understand. I was waiting for Ann to return. The conductor’s voice got louder…finally Ann appeared and the conductor began yelling at me…I understood what Ann was telling me, “He’s telling you to get on… the train is leaving.” The French have one of the most efficient train systems in the world I learned and pride themselves on leaving promptly…. I was holding up the train.
All of the compartments contained at least one person. Ann had picked one that was occupied by a young French student, Cyril. He was just returning from doing an ecological/oceanographic research project in Indonesia.
Although his English was minimal, what was remarkable about him was how hard he tried to speak English. When stymied, he appeared to be cursing at himself but would inevitably get his thought across: He had a girl friend Babette, he was in his last year of university and due to the cost would need to get a job this summer and begin work…no, he would not be coming to La Jolla to study oceanography at Scripps. He was a fun compartment companion.AVIGNON
March 5, 6
Avignon is an ancient walled city on the Rhone River in Provence. For about 100 years it was the Vatican of its day as it was the center of Christianity and housed 7 popes. Supposedly, St. Catherine of Siena’s intercession convinced the then sitting pope to return to Rome.Using a “last minute” internet site, we booked into a great hotel, Hotel l’Europa right on the outskirts of the center of town but within the walls. The hotel had old style elegance and Ann noticed and appreciated the quality in the bedding,
amenities, et. al. Among others, Napoleon had stayed here while in town! Ann also bestowed upon this hotel the “best bubble bath in Europe” award. 
In Avignon our touring highlights were the Calvert Archaeological Museum and the Palace of the
Popes. 
The 
Archaeological Museum had sculptures and pieces whose origin can be traced back to before the birth of Christ. They were unearthed in this area about 150 years ago. Ann found this place very interesting and was blown away with how old everything was and got into the fact that people so long ago had done all this carving….and for fun played with dice.
The Palace of the Popes, the biggest Gothic palace in the world, was a massive fortress like structure. It looked more like a castle than a Palace…..it looked cold and austere and we were glad we weren’t sleeping there. We left there and headed towards Benedict’s bridge which has on it a chapel dedicated to Saint Nicolas, patron saint of bargemen. The bridge, along with the Palace, is a UNESCO World Heritage site. It spans just half of the Rhone, the other half was destroyed first in the Crusades of the 1200s and then again by raging waters and finally abandoned, although the chapel is still in use.One morning we toured the local market as we seem to do in every town. We love the market scene.
The market was outstanding. Not nearly as big as La Boqueria in Barcelona but the same quality: Beautiful cheeses, olives, cured meats, fish. We bought some spices for paella and herbs Provence. 
We decided to get some coffee so we stepped inside of a restaurant stall where men were drinking wine and playing cards. We ordered our coffee and met Barbara. She was like many of the women that we saw in Avignon: Dark hair, oily skin, actually Spanish looking.
Her partner was Genevieve, about 15 years older, lighter skinned. They had pictures of naked or near naked men hanging on a wall. One of photos showed a foot giving the finger. They greeted their regular men patrons with a 3 kiss alternate cheek ritual. Ann had a tomato cheese baguette; I had a chopped sirloin steak and fries with our beer. The vibe was great, we hated to bid adieu.
Other than some large squares and the major tourist attractions, everything in town was quaint, including the shops, boulangeries and patisseries. If you were doing shopping, it was especially fantastic for children. Ann said she had never seen so many beautiful children’s shops.
While we were meandering about town one afternoon, Ann noticed a woman who had a beautiful hair cut. She wanted to ask her where she had it done and mentioned this to me…I approached her and asked. She very pleasantly conveyed to us that she had it cut in the best place in town and the only English words she spoke were “very expensive”. That this was the best place in town was confirmed by the concierge at the hotel so Ann made an appointment and had the singular experience of getting her hair done without speaking more than a few words of French… bon jour…..merci…tres bon.
From the very nice lady on the street, to the optician who fixed Ann’s sunglasses, to the charming French student on the train, to the man who helped us pick out some very nice local wines, to the lovely lady at the patisserie who made the most beautiful lemon meringue pie …
each and every person was pleasant and not at all like some of the encounters we had experienced in Paris….Ann said she was happy to have returned to France to be leaving with this impression.
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