En vacances

The holidays of Toussaint came around quickly and I was eager to grab the opportunty to do a bit of travelling. The break was for about ten days, with All Saints Day (Toussaint) in the middle of it. First stop was an afternoon in Paris on the way to Avignon. Had a few hours to kill in the capital so I headed out to the Marais, the old Jewish quarter I'd never visited. Spent a bit of time wandering around the Place des Vosges (left), situated in the heart of the district, an almost picture postcard image of Paris, being a square with a lovely small park in the centre. I was told the other day that apparently this is the nancy-boy part of the city. How serendipitous. Checked out the city a bit more, including the Champs Elysée and l'Arc de Triomphe - Saturday arvo, beaucoup du monde. Took the TGV to Avignon that evening; the station was packed, seemed like everyone wanted to get somewhere somehow. Apon arriving in Avignon, I took to the road on foot, head full of steam, confident that I could find my way to the hotel with the aid of my trusty albeit sparse Google map. Íntelligently however I had confused the TGV station with the central station in town so with midnight approaching I spent about an hour traversing the deserted ring-road in the industrial estate. Which is fine I guess but something told me there were nicer parts of town to explore. I took the soft option and headed back to the station for a costly cab trip.

Avignon's main claim to fame is that it was the seat of papal power in the 14th century while Italian princes and warrior popes were squabbling over the Eternal City. The old town is encolsed within ancient walls and the magnificent Palace of the Popes marks its centre. An imposing structure, its a mix of Romanesque and Gothic architecture. Inside it was fascinating, being able to take a squizz at the pope's living quarters, dining hall, church hall, bunk beds and PlayStation. Grabbed some lunch in a pizzeria nearby, which took me a little while longer than I had expected because I had forgotten to wind back my watch (end of daylight saving) and sat myself down before the kitchen was open, an hour earlier than I thought it was. At a table for one, kind of an uncomfortable wait, haha. Its a bit of a strange sensation holidaying on your own. The days become rather long.

After lunch, I headed down to the famous Pont d'Avignon (the bridge) which ends halfway across the Rhone, its other half being swept away by a flood in the 17th century. Kind of freaky peering over the edge where it stops. Given it was Sunday, the buses were few so I missed the opportunity to make it out to the Pont de Gard, a remarkable section of an ancient Roman aqueduct close by, but make it there one day I'm sure.

Monday arvo back on the train in the direction of Annecy to spend a few days with my second cousin Bruno, his partner Barbara and their son Andrea. Comforting to be back with some family and the language flows a bit better in the company of others you are at ease with. They made a great effort to speak English with me and looked after me in every way, as all the family does when us antipodeans set foot over here. Annecy is a very pretty place, capital of the Haute-Savoie département, situated on lac Annecy and at the foot of the Alps.

Not hard to imagine living in a place like this. We went for a bit of a stroll around the old town, by the lake (freshwater, incredible clear and apparently the cleanest in Europe). Wednesday and Thursday we heading up to Passy to visit more of the clan. Friday arvo I took the car and headed into town, this being my first serious go behind the lefthand drive. Thankfully no scratched paint or plasted limbs. My mantra of "keep right...keep right...keep right" worked well. I might even use during for my yoga practice. Despite scoring a goal on the road that day I took the decision to cancel the hire car I'd organized for the weekend drive to Lille (fuel and tolls would have bled me dry, not to mention the small window of time I had foolishly allowed myself to get there) and took the train instead.

Would not have normally headed up to Lille, but it presented itself as a good location to meet up with Jayse who came over from London for the weekend. Traditionally a thriving, industrial city at the doorstep of Belgium, the Netherlands and Britian, its not one of the country's prime tourist destinations. Nevertheless, there was enough to check out in the town centre: the old stock exchange, the Porte de Paris - a monument erected to mark Louis XIV's capture of the city in the 17th century, and the Citadel - the remains of a fort erected during this period. The areas around the university particularly easy on the eye. Jayse the bright spark suggested we hire some bikes and it proved to be a masterstroke - cheap, enjoyable and a great way to see the city, especially on a Sunday when the place is quiet. We had a good look around the Citadel and surrounding parklands on our bikes and settled for an awesome lunch nearby.

In front of the Opera house, Lille

Jayse doing two things at once. How does he do it.

Lille at sunset.

The story this week has been all about settling back into school and adjusting to the drop in temperature (we had a bit of (insubstantial) snow the other day and we expect some for next week. Today (Sunday) I headed into town to take a look at the Armistice Day service. No march, but rather a simple service at the memorial with the laying of wreaths, a few speechs, etc. This place saw some fighting in the early stages in the war in August 1914 but thereafter remained behind the front line as the German army was pushed back east. Not difficult to gain a sense today that the war took a heavy toll on the area.

'Typical' French behaviour: miserable lowbred barmaid in Lille calling us Americans, followed by a string of other expletives I would have payed to have understood.

Best meal: soupe à l'oignon, steak and creme brulée in Lille. Jethro, here's a pic for you, as requested:

On my iPod:

Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds - Where The Wild Roses Grow (feat. Herr Bargeld). Beats the released version hands-down, rock-in-fist, rose-'tween-teeth.

The Sleepy Jackson - Acid In My Heart. He paints with the same colours as everyone else but his patterns are all his own.

The Arcade Fire - Crown of Love. Deliriously romantic.

Richard Hawley - The Nights Are Cold. In every sense of the word.

The Beatles - I'll Be Back. I'll never get sick of this one.