Farewell to Avignon

On our last full day in Avignon we joined a walking tour of the old town to explore the culinary delights with Aurelie. We were in a group of 5 Americans and 2 Poms and everyone was very friendly and compatible. We started off in the gardens near the tourist bureau and finished up at the main markets. We started with a chocolatier who explained the chocolate making process in details I had never heard before and had us taste samples from Brazil and Ghana and there is a difference. It's like wine though I doubt that my life will be long enough to allow me to discern the difference between a good Brazilian and a mediocre Ivory Coast bean. We tried a lovely ganache then, for a Provençal experience, a ganache that had been flavoured with thyme. Interesting, but no one saw themselves gobbling them down in quantity.

 Then it was off to a coffee shop that roasted its own and sold specialty teas. We tried local specialty biscuits flavoured with orange water - could take them or leave them really but they are traditional. Then off to a bakery for fougasses (yum) which is a Christmas thing. At the markets we tasted a variety of olives, cheeses, toast with olive tapenade and dried tomato pastes and walnut bread with sheep cheese and honey. Finally, we got to taste the famous Chateauneuf du Pape wine - and it is really good. Only about €28 but can't imagine the price in Oz.

 Thursday was our day to catch the train to Nice. Up bright and early, we cleaned up the flat so Cecile wouldn't think us complete slobs and fortunately, Warwick had already disposed of all the wine bottles. Really odd that you leave bags of recycling and rubbish out on the street for collection but they don't take bottles. These go in neighbourhood bottle banks - which involves a walk.
We had tickets on the TGV direct to Nice but after a while when our train didn't show up on the departures board, I made enquiries at the info counter, where they did speak English. 'No, it's cancelled," the woman said. 'So you will need to go to the ticket office and change your tickets.' At the ticket office they did not speak English and I was rather challenged, but I was assured that we just used our TGV tickets to get on a regional service to Marseille and then change for Nice. The trains were shitty and they didn't check our tickets but we got here, and on time. Still don't know why the TGV was cancelled - hope it was the floods, in which case we couldn't really argue. In Nice, we made contact and were asked to catch a tram to St Francois Square, where our 'bijou' apartment is again up 42 steps. No lifts in the old town.
It's a small, but perfectly formed apartment, looking onto the square where there is a daily fish market. So convenient! And next to some sort of medical clinic that involves a lot of men sitting on the steps outside - don't know what that is about. And great alleyways of shops - particularly butcheries, charcuterie and even a triperie. Luxury! Scarcely a veg in sight! But looks very inviting and we can't wait to explore.

Provence

On Monday we took a tour to do some serious exploration of Provence. We joined our guide, Remy, who was charming and even shorter than me, at the tourist bureau. We were joined by two other couples and a mother/daughter pair - 6 Aussies and 2 Poms. It turned out to be a lovely group of friendly people, possibly helped by the fact that no one was into football at all.

Our first stop was a lavender farm where we learned the difference between lavender and lavendine and how they distil the stuff. We didn't buy the many products on offer, which was a frustration to the ever present sales people.
Then it was off to Roussillon - a beautiful hilltop village where there are the world's biggest deposits of ochre. All the houses are coloured with ochre and it explains the concept of Tuscan colours.

The cliffs there show the red, yellow and whitish colours. Remy took us to the best vantage point which was a cliff top a bit like Sydney's Gap but without any of your sissy railings. Sorry,can't get the photo again! Next it was off to Gordes where the houses are all built of stone without mortar. This was meant to protect the people from wind and rain. It's all up a mountaintop and you need to be a mountain goat to negotiate the streets. Here's a photo.

We had a lovely lunch overlooking the valley below then set out for the final goal - the Pont du Gard. I remember learning about it at school - but the reality is stunning. Here we are in front of it. The tour group all ensured that everyone had a photo. Thank you Justine!

A couple of vats of wine and we are ready for the Pope's palace tomorrow and a gourmet tour of the markets!

Sur le pont d'Avignon...

On Saturday it was mostly pouring with rain with occasional thunder and lightning so we spent the afternoon having lunch in a restaurant near the Place de l'horloge. Steak frites is a feature everywhere but the steaks are small and tough and not worth the trouble. It's better to be a bit more adventurous. A bottle of wine and we were well satisfied. We were surprised to wake on Sunday and hear that the storm had brought devastating flooding and up to 20 deaths just down the road at Antibes and affecting Cannes and other towns. We are off to Nice on Thursday and hope things will be relatively normal by then though the poor people affected won't be concerned about our travel plans.

On Sunday we took a good walk around the city and found the famous pont D'Avignon. It's just a remnant of a much bigger structure which seems to have fallen down every time there was a significant flood. The Rhone river here is massive and would be very hard to span. The bridge was only ever very narrow and used mainly for foot traffic - the fact that they put a chapel in the middle didn't exactly add to its usefulness. Just saying. So here I am 'sur le pont'.

After all that walking and exploring, not to mention the 42 stairs to our apartment we had to adjourn to another lunch on the square. Life's tough!

Here's Warwick hors de combat. I've found that none of the restaurant staff, shopkeepers or anyone I have had to deal with speaks English. I've been quite chuffed that I have been able to hold my own quite well. Boast brag!

The wedding reception

In catchup mode for a moment. The wedding reception was held on Saturday evening at the Duke of Cumberland, a charming English pub restaurant at Henley, about 5 mins from Nikki and Boyd's house. They had a marquee set up in the grounds and a band had taken over the area normally used as the restaurant. Nikki wore her long wedding dress and everyone thinks it was a success. I've posted a picture on Facebook because for some weird reason I can't get photos happening here. I am pleased to report that we did not disgrace ourselves and a good time was had by all. It finished at about 3am, however, Warwick and I departed just before midnight and were well and truly tucked up by then. The band was really good and apparently have supported some major acts recently. The best man, Ed gave a magnificent speech and Boyd was also in fine form. Ed is a school friend of Boyd and works as a film producer and office temp. His partner Matilda is an actor and paralegal. Who knows when we will see more of them? Big personalities and big talent. The next day Boyd and Nikki had a couple of Argentinian friends come over to their house and set up an asado. It's a barbecue that involves building a fire then putting the coals under the meat, which cooks slowly and stays moist and tasty. They had a whole lamb plus other pieces of beef and chicken. I did my motherly duty with salads. It was a very convivial day all round.

We are on the Eurostar and bound for Avignon after an eventful fortnight in England culminating in Nikki's wedding. I thought I'd take the opportunity to catch up on my blog for all my fawning readers (hello Anne!).

I think I left you at Portsmouth, where bovril was on the drinks menu. Hang the expense, let's have the bov with our Cornish pasties! No, tea will do, but lunch was very disappointing for all the raving over the authenticity of the pasties. Here's a photo of the Victory.

Then on Friday was the big day for the wedding ceremony to be held at Winchester Registry Office. It took place in the Basing Room which is located in a complex of very old buildings - maybe post Tudor, pre Georgian - very impressive. The room had a vaguely churchy feel about although completely secular. The registrar was a warm, friendly woman and the ceremony was dignified and nicely done. Nikki wore a short lace dress rather than the full getup. Warwick managed to prang the hire car on the way and my brother and sister-in-law arrived 20 millions late after a bit of strife with the traffic. Here's a pic of Nikki and Boyd with bridesmaid and best man.

Nikki and Boyd's friends turned out nice and friendly and we adjourned to the pub across the road for drinks, hot chips and ham sandwiches (with hot mustard). Nikki and Boyd had not booked anywhere for dinner so we all split up into smaller groups and headed off for dinner. Warwick and I, Michael and Kate, Elaine, Clare and Fay had Indian at the Banyan, which is just near where we were all staying.

In Avignon

I'll catch up with the wedding and our last week in England later but for now we have arrived in France. We took the Eurostar from St Pancras and it was a most relaxing 6 hours through glorious French countryside. The trains are spacious and very comfortable. In Avignon we have a small apartment on the second floor of a building in Rue Campane in the old city a stones throw from the famous Pont d'Avignon. There are at least three artisan bakeries nearby and restaurants and bars galore. Trouble is, they don't open until at least 7:30 - none of your nursery hours here!

At the supermarket everything seems cheap, especially wine. We picke up a lovely Bordeaux for about €4 together with raw milk Brie and lovely ham. I think I could get comfortable here!

The building is ancient and there is an alarming smell in the stair well but the apartment is fresh and bright and ridiculously cheap. The charming Cecile met us and showed us the ropes. The only disadvantage is that there is no lift and 42 stairs to our eyrie. No wonder French women are so thin!

Within half an hour of taking to the streets I was stopped and asked for directions. This always seems to happen to me. It happened in Paris, in Zurich and now here. I don't know if I should be consoled with the knowledge that I must look reliable if not glamorous.

The tv is a struggle - I will probably get my ear in by the end of the trip but you can already enjoy the French take on advertising. Warwick was in stitches over the Fiat ad where the old man comes out of the shower and spots his girlfriend lying provocatively on the bed. Just as he is about to pop a little blue pill, it tumbles out the window and into the open petrol cap of the Fiat 500 being filled at the station below (this is France). It immediately swells up and turns into a sporty SUV and he becomes young and gorgeous much to the approval of the girlfriend.

Somehow, I can't see that one running in Oz. The French are unabashed about sex in advertising.

It's raining and there is a hint of thunder so we'll spend the morning washing and blogging before exploring further. We've already spotted a tour of the Roman sites we want to do and will join a food and wine walking expedition.

West Sussex - early autumn

We're quietly filling in time until the wedding day and visiting some local places. The Weald and Downland open-air Museum is a quiet and pleasant place populated by retired volunteers and people from our demographic. Apparently, someone in the sixties decided it would be good to collect old buildings that were standing in the way of progress (roads, railways and those ghastly sixties abominations that Prince Charles rails about) and erect them at the museum site.
They have a fully operational flour mill, a forge, a school, a corrugated iron church and other impressive examples.

Here are the school and the flour mill. The school looks just like my kindergarten class and we did have slates.

The following day we headed for Portsmouth in search of shops but also HMS Victory and the naval museums. We immediately noticed the demographic - couples like us - which perhaps explains this choice of refreshments at one of the cafes.

Here's the polo

It's the last say of the polo season and we spent a very pleasant afternoon at the polo at Ambersham watching the players as they thundered up and down the pitch. I can see how it could become quite addictive ( especially as this sport has its own champagne sponsor -Roederer). I hope you like the snap I took...

At last I have managed to get the photos happening again! I shall go back and put some into my earlier posts if I have time.

Here's another of Nikki and Warwick in spectator mode. Spectators watch from the tailgates of their Range Rovers or from elegant tables near the clubhouse. Dogs seem to be mandatory.

Today we will collect our hire car and explore a bit. Tomorrow we go to London for the 'dress'.

Up to Jungfraujoch

We joined our bus at 8:30 am at the bus station that was conveniently across the road from the hotel. The tour comprised about 30 people, including a few Aussies, ranging from honeymooners to oldies like us - mostly the latter. We were led by an enthusiastic young, gay Asian guy called Kid who had a sort of Mohawk hairdo, and fortunately, had a very distinctive voice as he barked at us to get us where we needed to go.
We drove out through Lucerne to Interlaken past the most glorious green countryside and the bluest of lakes uphill, to the beginning of the cogwheel railway that would take us to the top. In fact there were three trains in all. They seem to run continuously with tourists from all over the world - Asians most noticeable. It took about an hour and a half to get to the top. Along the way there are vertical walls of mountains to see and tunnels that were kilometres long. (And we talk of infrastructure! The Swiss really know theirs!) At the top we took a lift up goodness knows how high to emerge on a platform just below the summit of Jungfrau. It was all covered with snow and visibility was not great but you could not fail to be impressed. We took lots of photos, including the selfie I put on facebook. according to Kid, Jungfrau means 'wirgin' and joch means 'saddle'. I think he knew plenty of jokes about that.

Then it was into the ice palace, which is a series of tunnels with ice sculptures under the glacier. Very slippery and very, very cold! It was then time for lunch - Kid suggested we take the canteen, no doubt because it would be quick and less trouble for him to round people up from the four restaurants. In the canteen, they basically sling hash and it's chips with everything, and did I mention expensive? The most forgettable meal in the most unforgettable place.
The downhill trip was a good deal quicker and we learnt that the train actually generates electricity. Clever Swiss! We took a different way down and travelled through the village of Grindelwald, where all the houses look like cuckoo clocks and the cows actually wear bells and live in wooden barns. I swear, I saw Heidi and her grandfather walking hand in hand up one of the very high cow pastures in the distance! From there it was back to Interlaken and three hours bus ride back through Lucerne.
The Swiss love their cows and their cheese. Fondue is a big deal but we didn't partake - there wasn't time and it looks bland. You can buy it premade in plastic bags. The herds of cows we saw numbered in the tens and graze on the sides of mountains at vertiginous heights. In the food hall of Globus (a big department store) we were amazed at the variety of Swiss cheeses on offer. The bakery was to die for with strudel by the slice.

Exploring Switzerland

Well, the small plane we were threatened with turned out to be an A340, which is only small if you compare it to an A380 so there was no problem with storage for us. Our business class seats were an older configuration but we could still lie completely flat, and that was all that really mattered. But food and drink options were surprisingly good. We got to try several Swiss wines and their famous Zurcher Geschnetzeltes. I didn't know Switzerland grew wine - they do but there isn't enough to export and it is easy to see why.

Despite quite a lot of sleep, we were still wrecked on arrival and had about 5 hour to kill before getting access to our hotel room. We walked down Bahnhofsstrasse, which is the main shopping drag for all your international brands, and therefore of little interest to us and decided to take a ferry trip on the lake for a cole of hours. Unfortunately, it was very overcast and very grey.

In summer the lake must be gorgeous, backed by huge mountains and dotted with little boats of all kinds. Magnificent homes and apartment buildings line the shore and every one has a boat house with sail, row or motor boats. Some have little summer pavilions in the gardens or above the boat storage. Apparently, Tina Turner is a resident and there must be lots of other rich and famous people.

Our hotel, right across from the train station has turned out well - spotless and newly renovated. I quite like the separate doonas on the bed and breakfast was good. I'm not sure what you are supposed to do with the lettuce that is served with the muesli and fruit though.

It was raining today and we are still a bit jet lagged so we decided to put in the day by taking the train to Geneva, hoping to see a bit of the countryside from the comfort of the train. We rocked up to buy our tickets and they were going to cost a small fortune (did I mention Switzerland is very expensive?). The young man at the ticket counter advised us to buy the el-cheapo tickets available online and very kindly stepped out of his kiosk to help us with the transaction - saving about $200 francs in the process.

Zurich is the German end of Switzerland and Geneva is very French. We had a very pleasant lunch with a Swiss sav blanc. It was pissing with rain so I managed a rather grey shot of the famous water spout but the sun came out on the way back. We travelled through lovely rural areas past a couple of major lakes with mountains in the background.

Tomorrow we've arranged a bus and train trip up into the mountains.

On our way

Well,we're in Hong Kong Airport wait into to join our flight to Zurich. We have some cheap business class tickets on Swiss and I'm not sure what to expect. We were just approached by a young airline person who tried to get us to check our hand luggage in because it's a very small plane. 'How small I asked?' 'Very small,' was all he would say. Are we off to Europe in a Cessna?

We've just had a very pleasant flight on a Cathay A330. At Sydney I discovered I have a very unusual power - to bring the $15 billion Customs passport control system to its knees. I scanned my passport then I thought it wanted me to do something with my boarding pass with the result that it ended up caught under the glass of the scanner thingy. More senior Customs officers had to be brought. A technician was required. No one could pass until the situation was resolved. Luckily a tech was nearby and it was all resolved quickly. But Customs need to know that a posse of short-sighted, old ladies with boarding passes and evil intent could gum up that system for hours.

All aboard for the Autumn 2015 nuptial tour...

Well, we're off to Europe again. The main purpose is to attend our daughter's wedding on 25 September but after that we will spend some time in London, catch a show and hang out with some Australian friends and rellies before taking the Eurostar to Avignon and Nice.

It all starts on Tuesday, 15 September 2015. I'll try to record anything interesting that happens along the way.