Bonjour!

Bonjour! Ca va? I had arrived in Avignon, France yesterday after taking the train from Figueres, Spain (passing by Narbonne, Beziers & Sete) to Montpellier St Roch where I then switched trains (13,70 euros) to Avignon, the heart of Provence. Luckily I reserved a train ticket in advance because the train was so packed as I squeezed into my window seat among four young American guys (one of them looked like Jody Foster!). This other young Austrian-Swiss looking lady stood out with her full traditional garb of thick courdroy jacket, embroidered vest and pants with suspenders topped with a mountain hat and wooden staff (attached to a bundled bag)!

The scenery was beautiful as we pulled away from northern Spain; imagine rows of vineyards thriving on the French terroir and rugged hills, an abandoned chateau, gleaming slender solar windmills, endless stretches of shallow salt banks and sunbaked houses dotting the vast spaces. Ah, c'est tres jolie! I just loved train rides; they were so good for the soul.

At the bustling centre of Avignon, I headed straight for Amy's recommendation Kyriad Hotel which was expensive for me at 70euros per night but it was easily the best among the 2-star hotels I had seen. The rest were plain creepy and mouldy! Kyriad also had a great location right at the Place del'Horloge square near the Pope's Palace. Plus it was so homey and cheery (bath tub a bonus!). I even brought my own pillowcase so I could smell it and be lulled to sleep at night.

After signing up for a full-day lavender tour (90 euros) at the tourist office and confronted with some truly cold Frenchie, I tried to cheer myself up with a dinner treat. But it was tres lonely eating by myself and I couldn't finish my main of lamb brochette and dessert of salade du fruit after a salade starter du fromager with Hoegaarden (20euros). I returned upstairs to my room depressed and thought this 'chilling' by myself couldn't go on any longer or else I'd be insane and senile!

I had a really good conversation with myself soaking in the warm scented bath with a cigarette and cup of mint tea, loudly affirming why I was here in the first place! You might think I must be going mad but it actually was a good session with Doctor Carl and I felt so much better after a good night's rest.

The next morning, I woke up refreshed and visited the Pope's Palace, the Jardin Rocher Des Doms and the Pont Saint Benezet; then admired the delicious displays at the local pattiseries and fashion boutiques along Rue Des Marchands. Along Place Carnot enroute to Les Halles market, I stumbled upon L'Orangeraie, a cosy cafe offering Provencale specialities which Amy and Sharon had recommended - what luck!

I ordered the le midi lunch menu with a glass of rose (15euros) from the svelte waitress (who was a dead ringer for Cindy Crawford, complete with the mole) and opted for the plat du jour (dish of the day) but forgot to ask her in my terrible French what it was. When le plat arrived, I almost laughed out loud at the beef tartare (seasoned raw beef) with frites and salade, geesh! It was not my favourite dish but turned out to be very very good. No wonder everyone ordered it. I finished it along with the dessert - 3 scoops of parfums sorbets!

Just for laughs, here's my usual conversation with the wait staff:
C: bonjour! ca va? eh, vous parlez anglais?
W: oui, a bit.
C: ah bon! je voudrais le menu du jour mais je ne comprend pas...
W: non problem (explains menu...)
C: ah ok, je voudrais blah blah blah..., merci beaucoup!
(after meal) eh, l'addition sil vous plait! Au revoir!

After a nap, I picked Le Lutrin, which was near Kyriad, for dinner. I wasn't sure if it was an issue being solo or Asian (or worse, both!) but the wait staff never failed to offer me a table in an awful corner somewhere tucked away, to which I'd insist they changed my table. And the way they asked you 'English or French' was so condescending. I promptly asked for salt and pepper to piss them off, haha.

Anyway the pistou soup was good with loads of veggies and meat in a pesto-tomato base but I didn't fancy the main; codfish simply boiled (tad fishy) served with more boiled cold veggies and egg. I had to add a generous sprinkling of Fleur de sel and the side dip of greenish aioli (tasted like a sharp piquant wasabi mayo) - perhaps i had a real knack for ordering the wrong dish! That was the sad thing about travelling alone, I had to contend with my (bad) choices and not being able to share the (good) food! Dessert was at least a consolation of choc mousse with fresh cream and strawberry sauce.

I'd be leaving for the quaint town of Saint Remy on Monday, but just needed to do some research at the tourist office to find out how to go there and maybe explore the nearby villages. Wish me bon chance!