We are on the road to Barcelona today. France was quite an experience. I have been to Paris before but not like this trip. Walking the streets, shopping in the neighborhoods, eating at the brasseries, it brought me eye to eye with the people of the city. Paris is a friendly town, despite what we so often hear in America. We think about iconic landmarks there, and that is a natural thing to do, but when you are there face to face with the people of that city, it comes alive inside you. We took a train to Avignon. We road in the same car with prisoners being transported to somewhere beyond our stop. It was a bullet train. What a ride! The Pont Du Gard is an ancient Roman aqueduct that runs from the mountains to Nimes. (Nimes is the birth place of the fabric denim - de Nime = denim.) The bridge across the river Gard is still intact. I went through the tunnel there on top of the aqueduct. My fear of heights and claustrophobia left far behind me, my curiosity in full bloom, I just had to see it for myself. I had to touch the walls, feel the light on my face where to holes opened the tunnel up to air. It was spectacular! Afterward I walked down to the River Gard and stood in it, leather shoes and all. I even dropped my long lens on the riverbank there. This whole trip was worth it for me just to experience the Pont Du Gard. From there we went to Arles, the home of Vincent Van Gogh, where I heard yet another theory on why he was separated from his ear . The town had a very different feel than Paris, quieter, slower than the larger metro-pole, alive at its own pace. It was hot there. Walking to the old amphitheater, now used for bull fighting, I exhausted myself completely. I took a few pictures there but I have never been one for violent sporting events so I did not stay long. I bought a few souvenirs there, thinking of my family back home and picking up little surprises for Christmas stockings for my grandkids. Brenda, a lovely woman from Oklahoma who is on the tour, and I went wine shopping in Avignon when we got back to town. I bought the brightest tablecloth the I could find. We are stopping for lunch in a medieval town called Carcassonne. More later . . .
Posted on: Sun, 18 May 2014 21:19:48 +0000
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