Cavaillon, 7-8 Avril 2007

We’ve been a little lazy with travelling lately, and thought that the Easter long weekend would be a great way to get back into it. So, after a productive Saturday morning (late night friday, sleep in, lunch, café), we took the easiest route we could think of to get out of the city: a day trip on the bus, to a far-away village and back, like a pensioners tour without toilet breaks. We got on a regular bus to a big town a hundred kms away, the largest in the Luberon region, called Cavaillon. As usual, the bus takes the most out of the way route to get there, so it’s really pretty and takes ages.

We didn’t really need a tour guide to complete the tour bus image, since the whole region is pretty well described in Peter Mayle’s book “A Year in Provence”. There were guns for sale everywhere and statues to great hunting dogs. We also didn’t understand anyone when they spoke to us, but they were probably talking about the recent melon crop, which is the local speciality and only thing the French have to say for the place (we found out later).

On arrival, we quickly discovered there were no more return buses, and only one return train, which would need 3 stopovers and would take 3-4 hours. So, we decided to stay the night instead and headed off in search of hotels. There are 12 in Cavaillon, including the nice ones, and we had to walk to every single one, even the ones on the outskirts of the city. Melons must be really popular in the area because there was no more room in the inns. By this time the train had left and we resolved to spend the night in bars, and get the bus home the next day. Just like NYE, really. We then walked past 30 pizza stands looking for a dinner without wheat in it, for passover. So, finally well fed, and with the night already geting on, we installed ourselves in one bar after another, leaving when the chairs went on the tables, and managed to stay awake and conscious till morning when we were offered a free lift home by the limousine society of Provence, NOT! The melons must be exciting enough for all the tourists, so they had an early night. The first bar closed at 1, and the rest at 2.

So, we went walking. We did the tourist walk of historic Cavaillon 3 times, then found a cosy bus shelter to try and sleep in. Failing that, we tried I-spy, read the graffiti, thought about warm weather, and then did the Cavaillon historic circuit another 4 times. There are two chapels, a great synagogue, some old city walls, an archaeoligical museum, and a 12th-century canal. The train station opened at 6, so we could escape the cold, the café opened at 7, and the bus came at 7.30, taking us somewhere comfortable enough to laugh about our trip to Cavaillon.

P.S. It's Spring in Aix. These leaves are the first on the official trees, and see if you can spot the baby foie gras.