Our first experience with Avignon was not positive. While our hotel ended up being nice, our
innkeepers are lacking, so it dampens the experience a little. We have breakfast in the courtyard, typical
French and good, made even better by our first full, leave-at-the-table pot of
brewed coffee in over a week. Autumn is
blowing in, literally; the strong winds from the Alps are ushering in cooler
temperatures. We go to explore the
city. Outside our front door is the Sunday
market, more flea market than food. It’s
somehow mixed in with a local Renaissance festival inside and outside of a 600-year-old
church, and yea, that works.
In the 14th century, Palais de Papes, was the seat of
Christianity and the home of six popes. The
Vatican of its time. Today it stands as
one of the most historic buildings in all of Europe. As it’s only 4 blocks away, we figure we
should start there. The place is
captivating, the story of religion wielded as power, kings with landless
kingdoms. We find the pope’s chamber
particularly fascinating, and his chief of staff’s chamber even more so. Located right below the pope’s space, the
heavy stone floor sections would be lifted to access the chamber below, which
held the riches of the church. Of course
the ride ends in the Papal Gifte Shoppe, which we think is hilarious.
We leave the Palace and head toward the Pont Saint-Benezet,
the famous medieval bridge originally built in 1177. The bridge had been destroyed and rebuilt
several times and was eventually abandoned in the 1600s. The remaining four arches, going about
halfway across the Rhone were built about 1345 and include a small chapel. The engineer in me marvels at the still
working drawbridge where the Pont meets the city. Leaving the bridge, Mandy gets a taste of how
it feels to defend a gothic city as she walks along the top of the city
wall. It’s one of those times you can
tangibly feel history in the space and objects around you. We can still sense the spirit of the average feudal
foot soldier patrolling his beat, hoping for another boring shift and dreading
the inevitable one that is not.
We explore inside the city and really love how the modern
overlays the ancient. In most places
that I have been, this would have been cordoned off and filled with reenactors
in costume playing the same role day after day.
Avignon, with all its history is not some museum. It’s a modern city painted on an ancient
canvas, complete with all of Richard Scarry’s Busy People. Moms pushing strollers. Students and retirees. White collar and blue. We wonder what it would be like to grow up in
a place with such a past. To the people who live and work here, it’s
just hometown F.R.A. Inside the walls we
find a fabric store and complete Mandy’s vision of table dressing with some
bulk fabric and napkins.
Late afternoon drinks on the square. A guy could get used to this. I’m gonna have to take my customers out more
afternoons when I get home. Getting
late, getting hungry. Lacking dinner
reservations, we google “best restaurants Avignon.” The first few we call are booked. We get the last table at Christian Etienne. Sounds good enough, and 7:30 gives us time for
one more. Looking up, we notice that the
clock tower dominating the square has figures in it, a man and woman dressed
traditionally, but we can’t tell from when.
We wonder how many people the couple has seen over the centuries.
The restaurant is right off the square, and we realize we
should have done a deeper dive to know what we were in for. A Michelin Star restaurant of the finest
quality. The people watching is great,
from the special occasion table of six to the Asian business meeting to the British
woman who, by the look on her pickled face, wished her fiancee would have found
an Appleby’s. Three prix fixe
menus. It’s one of the best harvests in
years, so we choose the seven course Seasonal Tomato Tasting. It ends up being around ten courses, one
better than the next. The trio of
different color heirloom tomato tartare was especially tasty. OK, so we thought the tomato gelato was a bit
overreaching and a little too much Iron Chef.
I’m a novice at wine, but I think even the most experienced would have a
tough time picking one to go with our meal.
We went with the sommelier’s suggested Chateuenuf de Pape white as a
paring and it really complimented wonderfully.
Dark and quiet, we make our way home.
Helluva town
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