Well, Avignon was a place of wonder, beauty and food. Oh God the Food. The City is rich with history, art, and FOOD. Chris and I spent 3 wonderful days cruising, walking, wondering, and laughing. I made it through the Palais de Papes without melting, but not without offending someone . We oogled gargoyles, shot each other with corks projected from crossbows, checked out the secret coffers of the Renegade Popes. Every time we passed an alcove whose statue had been taken out, I took the opportunity to insert a statue of Notre Dame de Drama Queens

We took a cruise to Arles, which takes about 2 3/4 hours, so we ate at a wonderfully leisurely pace on the way there, cruised around arles fro a few hours, Made out in a structure almost as old as Jesus Christ (it was finished about 100 years after his death) And was generrally awed at how people still lived and thrived in the modern way in homes that are 1500 years old. It’s the case in Avignon as well, and probably much of Provence, but we had just learned that on our super cheesy tourist train ride

We laughed at how awesome Old guys are, especially when they are competitive

And marvelled at the scenery. Much of Provence is still very religious, so it was a bit of a shame being there on a Sunday and Monday, since that is the weekend, and not in the party sense. They close everything down. Probably good for my pocket book, cause I was in the mood to shop, and good for our bakcs, since we were a bit tight on the back pack space.

Avignon was beautiful and fun and the closest to comfortable I reached in France. Best done again in the future but only if we are renting an appartment. Cooking is a must. Freedom to roam the countryside in a car would have made 3 weeks based out of there seem short.

We learned a wonderful amount about champagne, about its creation, and how truly different every house is in taste, and in technique, to their ability of course, since the process is so meticulously controlled. And, most importantly, drank a respectable amount of champagne. Mom, if you are reading this: No silly flip flops for me.

Paris:
We started at the Eiffle tower, Wow. Big steel thing. This is a quote from my personal travel log:

“While in the historical part of the Musee des Egouts, {sewer museum} there was a mural pained of Jean Valjean carrying Marius, like in the book, so I made Chris take a picture of me in front of it. There was a couple checking us out, since we were making silly faces, animated commentary, and getting the settings on the camera just right. Since we were paying so much attention to it, they went over, and read the plaque describing the scene. The look on their faces and the shrug they both gave each other made it clear that they just didn’t get it. I got a good chuckle out of that. I know how it feels to check something out because peole around you are making a big deal out of it only to just not get it. See: Eiffle tower. Is it litterally just a tall monument whose only signigicance is it’s status as a tourist attraction ?!?”

She is quite pretty, though

The next day, of course, we checked out the sewer museum, from which the last quote came. It is arguably the only reason I’d ever gotten to step foot in Paris, so it’s likely the reason that this trip was made. It was worth it. I enjoyed it, saw the first rat of my life. I’d felt one run over my foot in Prague, and saw it’s tail, but that was barely the whole animal. If you squint, you can see it in this picture:

To continue on our underground theme, Chris and I visited the Catacombs. It was at one time I rock quarry, which they took too much rock out of, and the city started sinking in some parts, so they stopped mining, and since at the same time, they were having problems with the cemetaries being over full and starting to smell, they turned it into a giant undergroung ossuary. It was damp, winding, earthy, creepy and just plain wonderful.

Now, we’ve seen where Napolean was born, and entombed:

And where Christophe Colombe was born and entombed. (Both born in Corsica, and Nap entombed at The church of Les Invalides, and Chris entombed in Dominican Republic) Neet, I guess

I didn’t plan to do another post, but today (yesterday) bears comment.

So, it turns out that our flight from Paris to Calgary was moved up three hours.

I’ll let that one sink in…

There we are, about to check in our bags, and we’re told that our plane is literally taking off right now. Notable absences on this plane include… US. Both Char and I just about drop to the ground right there, but since we’re persons of resource and grace, we instead make our way to the airline ticket counter, in the hopes of rearranging our travel. Did you know that Air Transat only makes one flight per week to Calgary from Paris? You do now!

We are informed that, if we pay a 40 euro fee each, we might be fortunate enough to catch their 15:10 flight to Toronto, but other than that we’re on our own, so long, see ya, read the fine print next time… So, we do this, ending up as standby passengers numbers three and four on the flight. And now, two hours of nerve-wracking waiting, hoping that the flight doesn’t fill up. Char, in the interim, checks up on the cost of the next Air Canada or Air France flights, and determines that — if we don’t make this standby flight — we will be on the hook for $4100 to get home. When she tells me this (about 40 minutes before the standby cutoff) I actually felt faint. I don’t generally do that.

Long story short(er), with 5 slots left on the flight, and 5 minutes til cutoff, a lady and her daughter come up to the checkin and get on our plane. At this point, I have given up on getting home, having decided to send Char if there’s only one seat. Our fellow sufferers, two franco-edmontonians with whom we got along famously, are checked in as standbys one and two… and then Char and I are called up to check in. At which point I concealed tears of relief behind my otherwise unnecessary sunglasses… and we ran to the plane.

The rest of the trip was routine, other than spending two extra hours on a plane, two extra hours in an airport, and arriving home about an hour and a half ago, hoping to pass right out… and failing. So, this coda is brought to you by my insomnia.

We’ll see you all over the next little while, probably in small doses because we’re gonna be wiped right out

Carcassonne has been pretty cool so far, awesome, awesome guest house. everything is big here the room, the scenery, the freaking castle. Wow. Mel and my prep has paid off I think, there have been no complaints in the leg department, and although there have been no Big Up Hill Hikes, I’m still thanking that prep cause I can tell when I walk up that I’m not even close to labouring The Pictures are all going to come up when we arrive home, since we’re only here for a short while longer, and I think this will be the last internet cafe. We were (and are still considering) getting a reservation at a Micheline star restaurant tomorrow, so …maybe we’ll have something (expensive) and excititng to talk about when we get home. we’ll let you know.

Some Highlights:
Truffles, truffles, truffles, truffles. should I do a lottery, or just pick myself? who will it be, who will it be?
In Avignion, I learned what foie gras was: Even I had a twinge of “Meanies!”
And here, in Carcasonne, Chris has schooled me in medieval warfare, very interesting.
I learned what gésiers are: I ordered a “salade au gésiers et artichauds” and, well, I got one of the wierdest salads ever. nice bed of greens, tomatoes, cuces, light dressing, spattering of artichokes, and 2 chickens worth of extra crispy super hot hearts and kidneys.
I had a dream so bad, my hair turned white. (litterally just one of them)
Watched a frenchman laugh at an englishman who tried to buy worschestershire sauce at his shop.
Saw a muskrat so big I thought it was a Beaver
Stepped in Dog shit
Watched a great game of Bocci Ball
Photographed a Nuclear Power Plant
Made out in a 2 thousand year old structure at least once
Went through a river lock twice
Watched a mini lock once
Bought Yarn

Did I mention that it’s a really damned big castle?

I’m really at a loss here; the end of the trip is coming up, and I’ll admit, I’m looking forward to getting home, but I’m enjoying these last couple days.

not mine, but beautiful none the less

So, Avignon has been awesome so far! I think I would reccomend even bypassing all other stops and just staying in Provence for an entire holliday. The town of Arles we visited yesterday still has it’s Coluseum, whose building was finished in the First century, and still it’s “downtown” is from the 5th century. Much of Avignon is the same, but without the coluseum, and in stead the Pallais des Papes, which, I did get guilted into seeing. Damn Chris and his Catholicism rubbing off on me. Well, actually, I like his catholicism rubbing off on me . . .

Ahem, sorry my mother reads this blog, I should be more discreet

The Landscape is Beautiful, I’ve taken a million photos, So many, in fact, that I need to upload them so I can take more :/ Last night, there was a fireworks display I will let Chris describe, since I can only describe what it smelled and sounded like, as a late France Day Celebration (it’s about 3 months late, since their day is Col’s Birthday, the 14th of July) But it was some history day. (all museums were free, for example)

Today Chris and I are going to take it easy, window shopping and walking around the town ramparts and taking in the old, old sights. Maybe drink some fine wine, and maybe have a lesson on drinking wine in the Giftshop of the Palais des Papes.

Something I took away from the Mediterranean Sea is a sense that, amazingly, the tourism advertisements and stories I’ve read about the place really do not do the sea justice. I’m accustomed to an ocean that is dark, cold, and remote; a beauty that can really only be appreciated in the sense that a predator’s grace is admirable. The Mediterranean is different. It’s blue in a thousand shades, all of them gem-like. Each isolated cove brings something new.

We saw three firefighting seaplanes, doing water drills. That was special. We were treated to a flyby by some kind of French military fighter jet, which blew past overhead as we picked our way up to a lighthouse on a rocky promontory. We ate haute cuisine at a dockside bar, and dangled our feet over the edge of the pier, watching hundreds of black fish in the deep, clear blue waters just beside a massive ferry.

And now, Avignon.

There is a palace here, one of the finest examples of a Gothic citadel in Europe, still largely intact, and it is huge. Only pictures can do it justice, but the computer at our hotel — from which I post this — cannot recognize our camera, and therefore I cannot show you these pictures. I’ll probably come back and attach them to this post later, so keep an eye on it.

The food is amazing, the hotel is the nicest we’ve had so far, and the people all seem very friendly. Interestingly, I’ve heard more english in Avignon in one day than in the rest of our trip put together. It seems that this place is a very popular tourist destination, and once I have the pictures up, you’ll see why.

I can’t really add a lot more without those, so I’ll leave off here.