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Sundown
AvignonWe started Sunday at Avignon’s market. We looked around at all the stalls. June Bug liked the fish. She kept telling me she saw Nemo. David liked the bunny carcasses. They looked just like bunnies (heads and ears still attached), except that they were fleshy and dead instead of being warm and fuzzy. He wanted to point them out to June Bug, but I begged him not to. I liked looking at the sweets, and we left with two little pineapple-coconut cakes. (Sorry guys, no stinky fish or rabbit carcasses today!)
As we headed out of the Market, June Bug wiped her eyes with her sunscreen-drenched hands and caused herself a lot of anguish. A florist saw her crying and gave her a rose to cheer her up. I’m the kind of person who always travels with a handkerchief and a bottle of water, so I put those two items together and did the best I could to wipe her eyes. Then we wandered around the narrow streets inside the city walls for a while. The town was getting ready for their big theatre festival so people were out everywhere hanging cardboard posters wherever they could find a few inches of
space. We saw the old waterwheels that used to power textile factories. After we had our fill of wandering, we headed back to the market. (We were parked in the garage just above it.) And we bought some picnic items: quiche, wine, olives.
We took our picnic to the other side of the river, where we sat in the shade and looked back at the city walls and the Palace of the Popes. June Bug had a great time lying in the shade singing to her rose.
After lunch, we packed up and headed back to the hotel for nap time.
We didn’t eat French food for dinner. Instead, we went to a place called “Buffalo Grill.” The building was shaped like something from route 66, and it was filled with an over-the-top western theme: swinging saloon doors everywhere, servers dressed as cowboys, country music playing in the background. This wasn’t the only Buffalo Grill in Provence, we passed another on the way to Montpellier. It must be a chain. David ordered a steak medium, but when he got it, it wasn’t pink… it was still red. Katherine had had the same problem with some beef the day
before. Maybe it was only a coincidence, or maybe the French just like their meat lightly cooked, but both times we had to send steaks back to the kitchen, so we’ve decided that the next time we’re in France we’ll order steaks well done.
The meals weren’t that great, but the desserts were delicious. I tried “The Tennessee” in honor of my home state. It was whiskey and caramel ice cream. Really delicious.
After dinner, we headed out to Avignon hoping to watch the sunset from the park, but we were surprised to see that the park closed at 9:00 p.m. Oh well, we still had fun at the foot of the Papal Palace wandering around. We could still see the sunset from the gate of the park.
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