PRETTY PROVENCE

Provence is a region in southern France. I decided to use the city of Avignon as my home base. The train from Paris to Avignon was a high speed train. In some places we were underground in tunnels for 10 - 20 minutes at a time and we traveled at a speed that was hard to determine but it did make my ears pop so I assume it was very fast.

It was an easy but crowded bus ride from the train station into town. Avignon is a completely walled city and the walls remain intact with only a few entry/exit points. The Rhone river runs along the city.

This medieval city has cobblestone streets in most places. But not regular cobblestone streets where it seems that small brick sized rocks are almost completely flush with the mortar holding them together. Oh no. Imagine large russet potato sized rocks placed on end, the long way, with about 1/3 of the rock sticking up out of the mortar. Not a flat street. Not the least bit comfortable to walk on but then again, you are distracted by the beauty of the area.

At one time in history there were 2 popes: one in Rome and the other in Avignon. After years of conflict, they decided that they could only have one Pope - the Roman one. The Palace of the Popes (Palais des Papes) is the palace, part garrison and treasury. Here are some pictures.

From a park just above the Palais de Pape you can see the Rhone River. Part of the Pont de Saint Benezet (also named Pont d'Avignon) was washed away in a flood and the town could not afford to rebuild. Only this part remains.

My hotel was well decorated in bright cheery colors and welcoming.  This is the staircase; of course my room was at the top of the stairs.

On the first night, we went to dinner and the food was not good, in fact it was just plain bad. Ordering was entertaining though, our waiter, a young man of about 23, spoke no English at all and we had to mime lamb by making "baa" sounds.

We took a small tour of the area with a local guide who spoke excellent English. There were only 8 of us in a mini-van and it was the perfect type of tour: only a few people, only a few but beautiful stops and great details from our guide. We drove through a lot of countryside. This view here below was from a vantage point in Gordes.

The small town of Gordes.

The town of St. Remy.

The town of Beaux.

This shop was full of crockery (pottery kitchen pieces) painted in traditional colorful Provence patterns. They were tempting but definitely would not make the trip home without breaking.

The small towns are quaint and charming with a lot of places for you to spend your money. It only takes an hour or two to explore and take about a million photographs. Once you are done you realize that there really isn't anything else to do there except eat pastry. Exactly my idea of how to spend a day!

The Pont du Gard is an ancient Roman aqueduct bridge built to transport water. It once carried 44 million gallons of water to a town called Nimes (pronounced Neem). And the cotton fabric made in Nimes is "de Nimes" or "denim" to us. We did walk across this enormous bridge to the other side.

That night we went to dinner at about 7:45pm which is early for the French. The aroma in the first restaurant we went to was like a siren's song: pulling you in and resistance was futile. The hostess asked us if we would come back in about 1 hour. It was just too early for them to feed us and we could not wait. The next restaurant was recommended as fine dining by both our hotelier and Rick Steves. There wasn't one thing on the menu that interested either us, so we left. Eventually we went to a place in the tourist area and had a perfectly adequate meal which I ate with gusto. We hadn't eaten since noon and I was famished.

Sadly it was time for Leigh to head back to Seattle and I was on my own again. For lunch I decided to try the market - what we would call a farmer's market - but since they are far less industrialized than we are, all of their food is "farmer's market" quality. Up to now, there had been very few people in the Provence region who spoke English. The people in the market were in the 30 - 50 age group and they spoke perfect English.

Over the years I've heard about how delicious roasted chicken is in France. So, I buy half of a roasted chicken and some potatoes. Just outside the market is a large square with a lot of benches. I settled in with my napkins and lunch. I'm the only one sitting on a bench in the entire square and along come two women who are probably on their lunch break. Being French, they naturally sit next to me, forcing me to move my chicken to lap instead using the bench as a table. Then the wasps show up, buzzing around me. The sauce is going all over my clothes and hands. I don't have a stable flat area from which to eat so I have to pick the chicken with my fingers. Quel disastre.! (what a disaster). In the end, I stand over a garbage bin gnawing on the chicken like I haven't eaten in years hoping that no one can see me. Not one of my more ladylike moments. The chicken did taste good but most was wasted. All I could do was laugh at the situation.

I saw was a group of nuns, in light gray habits, walking down a narrow street and passing as I stood fascinated. There were about 60 of them touring the area and carrying bags of souvenirs. It didn't seem right to take a picture somehow but I will always remember them.

A NICE TIME IN NICE (NIECE)

Nice, France is pronounced Niece. This entire area is known as the Cote d'Azur or the Blue Coast and it's beauty has inspired many writers and artists. But I wasn't here to see the famous Picasso or Matisse museums - I wanted to see the water and the beach.

The French culture is very different from ours in many ways: they don't eat low fat because they love fat - that's where the flavor is, they don't eat low carb or avoid sugar - they love bread and pastry, and the older generation folks don't go for the whole "be careful in the sun" business either, they love to be dark brown tan.

Several people told me that the beaches in France are "pebbly". Well, they are not pebbly, they are rocky. Imagine softball sized rocks. That's what the beach is made of, not an bit of sand anywhere. Oh wait, I take that back, there was some sand in one area that was controlled by a hotel and cost a lot to use.

My hotel (not pictured) was once a grand fancy place that had seen better days. It was weary and badly in need of redecoration but it was clean and my room was a good size. It was located in a more residential area that wasn't particularly interesting or clean but it was close to the main street that lead to the old town. The boardwalk and old town are the nice parts of Nice. (Come on, you knew I was going to try to fit that in at one point). This area is teaming with tourists, bad cafes and pickpockets but if you keep your wits about you and just enjoy the view it is highly enjoyable.

JE T'AIME PARIS - I LOVE PARIS

Although I had French in high school and some in college, I am not fluent or even conversant. Those classes were a long time ago. I was concerned about communicating with people. My game plan was to make every effort to speak French to the point where the person I was speaking to would realize that listening to me speak French was appauling sounds awful and that would force them to speak English. Plus who can resist my natural charm, right?

Now, it's very important to be respectful when you're in a country and you don't speak the language. Instead of assuming that people spoke English, I began every sentence with "Bonjour. Pardonen moi, si vous plait, je ne parle pas Francais". Which means "Good Day. Please, pardon me, I do not speak French". This was usually received with a smile or a shoulder shrug and the response "It's okay. I speak English." Occasionally, after I said "Bonjour" and before I could get the rest of my speech, the person would reply in English "Hello. How may I help you?".
You never sound more American as when you try to speak another language.

I arrived in Paris to a well marked airport full of military guards packing serious weapons - AK-47s or something equivalent. The woman at the information desk was really nice to me and that set the tone for my whole visit in Paris. With her help and Rick's directions in my subconscious, I found the machine to purchase the bus tickets from the airport to the Opera House, navigated the Metro (subway) from the Opera House to my neighborhood and found my hotel without incident. I felt proud of myself for that little accomplishment.

I arrived at the hotel and it was more than I had expected. Not fancy, definitely budget travel but clean, safe and friendly staff. In fact the staff were so friendly that I was initially a bit surprised. The location was just near the Military School and the Rue Cler neighborhood.

I went for a walk around 7:30pm looking for the Eiffel Tower and this what I found just 2 short blocks from my hotel. This picture doesn't really do it justice but you get the idea. This was thrilling. Thrilling as in goose pimples on your arms and a giddy, giggly reaction just at being so close to something so cool.

The Eiffel Tower is not black steel as I thought it's this beautiful copper color - sort of natural and earthy. Here's I like about Paris, when you are NOT at the big tourist attractions, and you're just walking around the neighborhoods, you don't feel like a tourist at all. You feel like a traveler or a maybe even a local. There might be one or two souvenir shops here and there but in general, it's just you, the locals, the shops, cafes, and the city.

There really is a mystique about Paris that I can't quite explain. The first day I took one of those hop-on-hop-off buses to get a basic idea of the area. Man the traffic there is crazy. There was one collision and countless near misses. It's not so much the number of cars on the road but they style of driving which I would call kamikaze. Here are a few pictures from the double-decker bus.

Paris is a city for lovers. When we refer to PDA - Public Display of Affection, one normally thinks of a kiss that lasts a bit longer than usual or some such thing but in Paris they take PDA to a whole other level. People walk hand in hand, arm in arm, hand in back pockets, girls sitting on boyfriends laps, couples kissing, face holding kissing, french kissing, pressing up against in each other kissing, full-on making out, wandering hands...you get the idea. Personally, I think it's sweet and kind of cute BUT if you are single it can be a bit much to take. There it is, in your face, every where you go. Of the 6 nights I was in Paris, I cried myself to sleep feeling lonely and forlorn 3 of those nights. AND I firmly believe that if there are other single people in Paris, which I find doubtful, they are at home crying into their pillows too! No doubt about it.

So, one afternoon I'm walking along, feeling a bit down in this romantic city and I decided to go back to the pastry shop I passed a feet back. By the way, there is no need or logical reason to resist any of the food temptations while in Paris. You will never find better pastry anywhere in the world. As I turned around, this was the view before me.

There it is, just sitting there as you please. Peeking out over the top of buildings. That was a very special moment. Not only did I know longer feel sorry for myself but I was reminded how simple it can be to change your mood and your perspective.

I have told you that I'm a museum nerd and there were several on my list. The Louvre obviously and see my page on the blog named Let Down at the Louvre. And the two most well known for the Impressionist collections: Musee de L'Orangerie and the Musee d'Orsay.

The Impressionist wing at the Musee D'Orsay was closed, the wing I wanted to see the most, typical! However, I did find a new interest. There was a iron work artist and architect named Hector Guilmard and he's famous for designing the Metro station entrances in Paris, seen here.  The Musee had a lot of other works from him that included doors, entrances, facades, furniture and other items.

My friend Leigh was supposed to met me in Paris, and after some degree of difficulty, we finally found each other. Who knew there were 3 hotels with the same name in Paris? It was such a joy to have somebody to spend the days with and especially in Paris. That really did make it more fun. We did some sightseeing, walking, some shopping, eating, walking, exploring and flirting with cute waiters and of course, walking. One evening we decided to stop at a cafe and have a glass of wine and a snack. As we were in France the snack how to be....CHEESE. Naturalement. That's French for "naturally". We sat outside - with a heater - at a cafe in Paris, drinking wine and eating bread & cheese. It was the best cheese I've ever had and we asked for more bread at least 3 times. We just couldn't get enough.

The line to buy a ticket to go up the Eiffel Tower was about a 3.5 hour wait. We decided that standing in line wasn't how we wanted to spend our time in Paris. The guy at reception in my hotel suggested that we go to the Montparnasse Tower and then we would not only see the city but also the Eiffel Tower from a taller vantage point. What a great idea.

This is the Rue Cler neighborhood, a favorite of Rick Steves. This street is lined with pastry, bread, cheese, butchers, cafes, produce stands, gifts and shops for just about everything. Zoom in to get a better look.

I spent 5 full days in Paris and it was completely satisfying. I was sad to leave but at the same time ready to move on to the next city. Paris is fun, fairly easy to navigate and in my experience, welcoming. I recommend going (after doing your Rick Steves' homework of course).