Toussaint Part Two: the Debacle(s)

Lyon?  Question Mark? 

After we left Dijon, we took a train to Avignon via Lyon.  It was an evening train, which was a nice change from the incredibly early trains we’d caught during the rest of our vacation.  In a cruel twist of fate that was partially our fault but mostly the fault of French grèvists and their disruption of train schedules, we arrived in Lyon too late to catch our connecting train…which was the last train of the night.  After learning that the train station was about to shut down for the night, too, and that we couldn’t just stay there and play card games until the following morning, Maxine and I ventured out into the cold, wet night to find a last-minute, cheap hotel for 4 travel-weary, cranky American girls. 

Not an easy task.

We found an available room at one of the hotels next to the train station.  The man at the reception desk understood our plight (as he, too, had missed trains, grâce aux grèves) and told us that he could technically squeeze 4 people into a room for 2, but only if we were ultra quiet and out of the room before housekeeping came at 6 a.m.  We agreed to his explicit terms but wondered about the secrecy; turns out that putting more people in a room than that room can actually hold is against the law, and he could lose his hotel license. 

Needless to say, we didn’t make a sound.  We were grateful to have a bed (and two spaces on the floor) to sleep away our remaining 5 hours in Lyon. 

At 4:45 a.m., we woke up, got all our stuff together, and checked out of the hotel in time to catch our 5:38 train to Avignon. 

Basically, this is all we saw of Lyon.  

The futuristic train station at Lyon, alight in the reflection from our hotel's cheap neon sign.  (Don't forget you can click on the pictures to biggen them!)

  As soon as I get the bad taste out of my mouth, I’d love to go back and see more :)

Avignon, At Long Last!

We slept fitfully on the trains to Avignon; both of them were unheated, which seemed an inhumane insult to add to our injury.  Still, sunshine and blue skies greeted us in Avignon, and after a quick café we set out to find our hotel. 

Avignon's main gated entry--and the welcome sight of blue skies!

It was only about 5 minutes away on the main birch-lined road (which reminded me intensely and nostalgically of West Harpeth), and after we checked in to our room (a strange purple Gothic tower affair), we passed out for a long nap. 

Knowing that the day of our arrival was also our only day of sunshine, we only slept until noon, then got out of bed and went exploring.  We walked north along the main street until we reached a large plaza full of cafés and restaurants and even a carousel; we chose one restaurant at random and sat down for lunch, and though the service left a lot to be desired, the food was good and we were happy to finally be in the sunshine!  

The crowded plaza where we ate lunch.

 After lunch we walked toward the Palais des Papes in its huge, tree-lined courtyard dotted with souvenir shops and sculptures. 

Palais des Papes, built in 1335 and considered the most important Gothic palace in the world. 

Before we even got to the courtyard we heard accordion music; someone was playing the music from Amélie, which, if you know me at all, you know is my favorite French film of all time.  I had a transcendent moment in which all the trials and tribulations we encountered in getting to Avignon were all worth this one moment in the sun with my friends and an Amélie-esque soundtrack.  It was perfect :)

This quintessentially French woman absolutely *made* my vacation.  The Asian tourist next to her...not so much.

We continued up the hill behind the Palais des Papes and saw the WWII monument.  It’s such a humbling experience to see the engraved names of people from a particular city who died at the hands of the Nazis or the Vichy regime.  In the States it all seems so remote, but the French were truly at the center of that piece of history.  The memorials that they’ve set up so that people don’t forget what the country went through are really touching.

Further up the hill we could see the infamous Pont d’Avignon down below us; apparently it doesn’t even go anywhere anymore.  After a particularly destructive flood in the early 1600s, the bridge now only has 4 of its original 22 arches left, and it stops in the middle of the Rhône River.  Efficient, Frenchies.  Reeeaaallll efficient. 

The Pont d'Avignon on its ill-fated journey across the Rhône, plus vineyards in the foreground.  Mmmmm, wine :)

At the very top of the hill was the real treasure: Rochers des Doms, a hidden garden with fountains, statues, a café, and the most adorable pedal toys I’ve ever seen.  

 

Can you honestly tell me you've seen something cuter than this?  I'd like to see you try. 

We climbed to the top of this cool waterfall thing to have a gorgeous aerial view of the city and its surrounding geography.

I felt like Ariel in her undersea grotto!

 The day was so clear that we could see for miles in every direction.  And look, ma—fall foliage! 

 

  

We had an ice cream and bought SO many postcards at the café right next to the pool with the sculpture in it; the server was so much nicer than anyone we’d encountered in Nevers, and we attributed it to the fact that we were further south.  Also, the sun was out, and it was a beautiful day; maybe if Nevers got more of those, the people would be nicer!

Cassis (black currant) is my new favorite flavor of ice cream.  Plus, it comes with a pinwheel!

Instead of paying 15€ to walk out onto the Pont d’Avignon (which, need I remind you, doesn’t go anywhere?!), we decided to camp out on the banks of the Rhône just beside the bridge and change the lyrics of the famous song to reflect our amendment; instead of “Sur (on) le Pont d’Avignon,” we danced to “Pres (near) du Pont d’Avignon.”  It was pretty magical :)

We sat on the banks for hours, watching the sunset over the river.  A riverboat passed by us, all lit up, showing the other end of the bridge to (even more) paying customers.  A sweet old man came by with two bags full of baguette cubes that he threw to the ducks in the water below us.  He and I talked for a long time; he was really interesting, and had a lot of good stories to tell, and was obviously grateful for the company.  

He says the problem with young people is that they pretend to listen to his stories and don't retain anything.  I'm determined to prove him wrong.

By the time we left the bridge, it was dark.  We passed back through the plaza with the carousel where we ate lunch, and it, too, was all lit up.  You know I have a weakness for bright lights :)

The carousel and City Hall, all lit up at night.

 After that first day of sun, it poured for the rest of our trip.  We only left our hotel room to grab a quick café or chocolat chaud, or to pick up a couple of baguettes and some cheese and wine for our dinner.  Over the next four days, we took one day trip (a rainy debacle of its own, to be told in great detail in the next blog entry) and watched 3 movies and the entire first season of Glee. 

We spent Halloween in Avignon, which was a bit of a sobering experience.  We didn’t expect anything major to happen—at least not the way it happens in the states—but it was still raining and we couldn’t summon the energy to go to a nearby bar that was having Halloween karaoke, so instead we stayed in and watched the classics: Hocus Pocus, Young Frankenstein, and The Rocky Horror Picture Show.  Also, Maxine’s awesome French phone let us know at midnight that it was Halloween by changing all our avatars to little pumpkins.  Adorable :)

Gives new meaning to the name Punkinhead, doesn't it, Dad?

There's only one more entry to include about les vacances de Toussaint, and that's our day trip to Nîmes.  This post has gotten far too long as it is, so expect it in the next one.  À très bientôt!