I said "yes"

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Well we made to Toulouse, which was really just a stop over to break up the train trip to Avignon. On the advice of several other travelers and my cousin Kathryn we decided to slip in a day trip to Carcassonne on the way to Avignon.

Stopping off in Carcassonne meant we had the intention of leaving our bags in a locker at the station (as we had done many a time in Spain) while we frolicked around the town and then returned for our bags to board the afternoon train. Unfortunately this was not to be. Apparently France is much more paranoid than Spain and does not allow baggage to be left in the station. The thought of lugging our packs up the hill and around the medieval town for several hours was not really inspiring us and it did cross our minds to just jump on the next train out of there. However, we persevered and took our packs for a walk to the information centre where we learnt that if we had an International Youth Hostel card we could leave our bags free of charge at the hostel. This was great news, as we did in fact possess the magic card (the $40 we paid for it in NZ just became worth it). The bad news was that the hostel was still at the top of the hill. Without packs on, I’m sure this hill I speak of would seem a mere stroll, but with the packs on the lungs were bursting and I was cursing the boxing day shopping spree I had indulged in.

With the weight off our backs, Carcassonne was a wonderful little town to explore. A favourite activity of ours in old towns is to walk up on the city walls. In Carcassonne the only way to do this was with a guide, and the only English tour for the day was going to take place when we would be long gone on the train to Avignon. We didn’t let that stop us and jumped in on a French tour. Iain’s 5th form French is great for ordering food, making reservations and asking directions but it was a bit much for me to ask him to translate an hour-long history lesson on the ramparts of Carcassonne. We managed to grasp a few concepts about pouring hot oil on attackers and egging on the enemy with a variety of tricks up their sleeves.

While taking our guided tour along the walls, we were introduced to the Mistral that would follow us to Avignon and through our adventures in Provence. The mistral is a bitterly cold wind that just blows and blows and doesn’t let up.

Avignon - the city of the proposal. So I’m sure anyone reading this blog will know by now that Iain proposed to me in Avignon and I said yes. But since I have not yet tired of telling this story I think it deserves to be recorded in the blog. I believe many people suspected we would be engaged by the end of this trip and the highest odds seemed to be running on Avignon (apparently a few people had money on Paris). So, we went out for dinner in a lovely restaurant and enjoyed some French steak and a drop of the local vin rouge. This was followed by a walk along our section of the Rhone River, with the Palais des Papas lit up in the background and the Pont d’Avignon illuminated down river. On this evening, the mistral had eased up to allow for this evening stroll. We stopped at a bench near the Pont and it was here that Iain got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. Europe has brought out quite the romantic streak in Iain.

Following Iain’s romantic lead, I proceeded to get food poisoning from that lovely meal and 5 hours after the proposal I started to throw up and spent a good portion of the next 8 hours draped over the porcelain bowl. Although feeling rather miserable I was of course still very excited about the proposal and desperately wanted to call home and tell Mum and Dad the news. Unfortunately the phone at our hostel was out of order so we had to traipse across the bridge (with the mistral back in full strength) to get to the phone box. I managed to deliver the news to Mum and Dad very hastily before shoving the phone over to Iain and then throwing up in the rubbish bin next to the phone, leaving Iain to fill in the details for Mum and Dad. Iain then promptly took me back to the hostel and no further attempts were made to tell any other relatives or friends until the next day when I was feeling substantially better.

Of course many a joke has been made about morning sickness or a very nervous reaction to the proposal - but food poisoning is my story and I’m sticking to it.

The unfortunate food incident only set us back one day and then we were ready to begin “an expedition under adventurous circumstances” (that is what I named our car hire trip and I think Winnie the Pooh would be proud to be involved in such an expedition except that no honey was involved). We hired a lovely little Nissan Micra in Avignon and had 2 days running it around in Provence. The adventurous circumstances of our expedition mostly relate to driving on the right-hand side of the road and navigating our way in, out, through and around various towns. However the most adventurous of circumstances came during what was supposed to be a quiet and romantic picnic lunch. Our chosen spot at the Fontaine de Valcluse (the source of an underground spring) was at the end of a walking path. A small sign at the end of the path drew one’s attention to the fact that rocks may fall. However beyond the sign was another small track that cried “hike me”. The little track went just around the corner to a calm and idyllic spot for our picnic lunch (comprising of olives, cheese, ham, baguette, coke and a small bottle of the local vin rouge). As we ate, several other tourists made there way past the “attention rocks may fall sign” and ventured into our picnic area. It seemed to me that when a pair of tourists came by, one of them threw a rock in the water nearby, as there was a small splash that interrupted our meal. Strangely though when no other tourists were present a rock landed a little closer to us, not in the water. At this point we were beginning to feel a little uncomfortable and decided to pack up our picnic and move along. As the packing up was taking place rumbles came from above and we dove for cover under a large rock and then grabbed all our stuff and made a dash for the track as a tree accompanied by rock dirt and debris fell into the water just next to our idyllic spot (this story has since grown to half the cliff falling on us and we were lucky to make it out alive). I will now pay more attention to the French signs (they seem to mean more than the American ones).

Other fantastic but less life threatening spots on our Provence tour included:
Pont du Gard - although 2.5 million people visit this Roman Aqueduct each year, we managed to have it to ourselves on beautiful morning. We were there at 9.00am before the tourists or even the mistral was awake.
Amphitheatre at Nimes, with a fantastic audioguide tour about the history of the arena and gladiators.

Arles - we should have stayed in Nimes.
Chateau le Beaux - a rocky spur on which a large castle was built. Another fascinating audio tour although the mistral was howling and making life a bit uncomfortable.
Isla sur la Sourge - a small town of water wheels and waterways. Several games of pooh sticks were played on the bridges (Bec 3 v Iain 0).

For our final night in Avignon Iain had booked us into a fancy hotel and picked a romantic looking restaurant to celebrate our engagement. Turned out the restaurant was a little too fancy for a couple of kiwi kids. We ordered the trio of lamb and some braised beef and were surprised when 6 other tiny courses were served, silver service style before our meals. Some of these courses were even too exotic and strongly flavoured for me. I think they were wasted on us. When our mains finally arrived they were amazing.

Well I think that’s enough news for you to devour for now. Next update will take you through Dijon, Paris and final destination - London.

Au revoir
Bec and Iain

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Photos

Minutes before the proposal
Bec and Iain go for a walk along the banks of the Rhone

It's a long way to the top...when you have a heavy pack
Bec lugs her pack up the hill to Carcassonne

Pont du Gard
Iain captures the reflections of the Pont in the calm waters

Amphitheatre at Nimes
The scene of gladitorial battles, Christian Matyrs thrown to the lions and bull fights

Provence sunset
Treated to a spectacular sunset on our drive back to Avignon

Chateau des Beaux
Becs loads the catapult, ready for a siege

Fontaine de Valcluse
An ideal spot for a picnic wouldn't you say?

The picnic
Before the rocks came tumbling down