Nice to be here!

Happy National Day everyone! I wouldn't have remembered if Ferne hadn't reminded me via sms. This morning I left Saint Remy on the bus back to Avignon and met Mario, the friendly Italian bus driver again. He was by far the friendliest person I had met in France and the irony was he's not even a native! We parted on a sad note at the Avignon bus station and I hurried to catch the train to Nice, the heart of Cote d'Azur. I had decided to stay a night at Nice because the train ride to Turin in Italy would be very long and I didn't want to reach there at night.

The 4-hour train ride to Nice was not as painful as I imagined, as we cruised along the coastline past Marseille, Toulon and Cannes. As this was my 2nd time here in Nice (1st time in 1997), I knew my way around so I didn't have to ask the snobbish tourist office girls for information. However Nice was tres crowded at this time of the year and I was walking around for at least 30mins with my backpack, sweating like a leg of jambon in this heat at 5pm and cursing like a mad woman after being turned away from the full 2 and 3-star hotels.

Pissed and hungry, I checked into Le Grimaldi, a 4-star joint (95 euros) and was ecstatic at the last available single room (MTV and BBC!) and free internet access (that's why I could write so much now). After a fag and shower, I took a stroll down the familiar broad beachfront walkway (yes, the titties were still on display on the pebbled beach and no, I didn't run into Henry the dirty old Frenchman who once approached us to say he liked Asian women for their clean bodies and nice small tits!) and enjoyed a big plate of spaghetti fruits de mer with my beer (16 euros) at a packed Italian restaurant located at the busy France Rue Massena avenue. These 3 French teenage girls were staring at my meal while they shared their thin pizzas and water.

It had been a whole week already on my own but it felt like a f%cking eternity! I was getting the hang of being Carl Solo, except at times when I was down, I'd get so lonely I could cry. Then I would puff up my shoulders and remind myself to savour every moment on this 'amazing race' where I'd pull through the detours and pitstops to arrive at my destinations. This would be one self-discovery journey that I won't get eliminated because I got to set the rules!

Je suis ici au Provence!

As cliche' as it sounded, almost everywhere I went in Provence, I heard accordian music a la French movie soundtrack (think Anouk et homme) - je ne sais pourqois! I guess it'd be kind of romantic for lovers but it was irritating the f%ck out of me. Anyway I spent a full Sunday touring the quaint villages outside Avignon with our English-speaking French guide-cum-driver Elodie and the van filled with Asians - me from Singapore, a young couple from Hong Kong and a family of trio from Guangzhou (the young girl asked her mom why my Cantonese was so bad when I spoke to them!).

Our first stop was the gorgeous Sorgues, orginally a fishermen's village about 30mins away, passing by apple and pear nurseries, a winery and fields of withering sunflowers (best time to see them in full bloom was July). It was tres crowded on Sunday as there was a market selling everything from lovely antiques and Provencale cloth to glazed pottery and colourful straw hats and bags. My nose was also assaulted with the sweet perfume of lavender soaps, fresh flowers and herbs, the savoury whiffs of roasted poulet with garlic, and the pungent waves from the smelly French fromage and saucisson!

I wanted to buy everything but my limited backpack was more of a constraint than my budget, so I just went trigger happy and bought breakfast snacks like French apple tart and peaches for the road. Mid-way through the market, I jostled with the crowd to the front of the canal and watched a theatric show of locals in costumes balancing their acts on narrow boats.

After that, we visited the Lavender Museum at Coustellet where we bought some souvenirs and learnt many things about lavender, including the fact that it is harvested once a year in August (luckily we could still frolick and pose at some lavender fields later!).

Our next stop Gordes, described as one of the most beautiful villages in France, certainly deserved the accolades. Known for its dried stone structures, it was a dramatic sight perching atop the hill overlooking the plains below. When we got out from the mini van, it was actually chilly in the shade as the wind blew and the other kiasi Asians whipped out their jackets except me in my tanktop (it was damn hot when we left Avignon ok)! I braved the chills and lunched on my plate of tres delicious fatty smoked canard et foie gras salade (16 euros) al fresco among the locals with a big stray German Shepherd by my feet - hah, you should see me!

The village was very small so I couldn't walk off the calories even if I wanted to. We then departed for another quaint village Sault 40mins away, passing by the town of Roussillon (all together now say 'Roo-see-yon') surrounded by vineyards, olive and cherry trees before climbing uphill on a long narrow winding road overlooking the deep and lush valleys of Sault.

Elodie made a few photo stops at the lavender fields which looked like purplish blue carpets from far but as we got closer, their colours and perfume were simply vivid... my sister would love it here. Everyone dived right in, posing like models and some plucked more than a bundle for keepsake. I simply pressed three stalks in my Italian guidebook for good luck and let my nose dance with joy in a cloud of purple.

At Sault, we had plenty of rest time and were free to explore on our own. I found a tranquil spot that offered a panoramic view of the fields below. Apparently Sault was strategically built on rocky spurs to offer its inhabitants protection in the old days. Back at Avignon, I was actually hungry and found a Vietnamese restaurant Xuan (6 Rue Galante) to satiate my craving for beef pho (6,30e) and stirfried veggies (5,50e) with jasmine tea. I cannot tahan anymore French food! My night cap was a small 250ml bottle of L'Orangerie Bordeaux Rose and cigarettes in bed, ahhh oui - c'est perfect!

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!