Avignon, 28 Janvier 2007

Aix, where we live, is the ancient Roman capital of Provence, the second province of the Roman Empire (after Spain). It won its influence from the Greek capital, Marseille, and lost it again during the middle ages, to Avignon. Avignon is on a river, so better defended, and with the militant French kingdom, it became mighty popular with everybody. So much so that the Pope, who was sick of the noise coming from his partying neighbours in Rome, ran away to Avignon for some peace and quiet. There he built an enormous palace, and solid city walls to try and keep the wind out. Unfortunately, this wind, “Le Mistral” is so unceasing it drives people crazy, and a later pope decided to extend his Italian holiday permanently. Nevertheless, Avignon, now the tourist capital of western Provence, is still pretty impressive.

We went there with some friends one afternoon, with Julie and Emmeline, and found the entire city deserted: everyone had been blown home this particular Sunday afternoon. This meant we could pop in on the Pope:

Survey the Elysian Fields:

Enjoy the beatific weather:

and still find time to visit Julie’s vineyard home, at Saint-Remy. This is where Van Gogh had therapy, and Nostradamus was born. For that, it’s on every single tourist map, despite its relatively small town charm.