Avignon, France

I arrived in Portland, Oregon day before yesterday. It was a very long and tiring couple of days traveling from Italy, home. The train ride from Serrento to Milan was weird. As happens often in my life, the least appealing person around decided to sit beside me and make me their friend. Michael, so he said his name was, sat down beside me, said "Caio, bella", then asked me to have sex with him. He said, in his thick Italian accent ".. a fine woman such as yourself, seemingly traveling alone, must be stressed out after such a long train ride. Let me take that stress out of your bones." I wish someone could've been there to tell me the contortions of my face. I declined, but he kept on and on - chatting about how he wanted to be my friend, and how maybe I could sponsor him and he could come to the states to be a Rap star. Ugh! I asked him to go sit somewhere else. He did, but then came back and just starred at me and smiled. I also noticed that he would check out peoples bags. Every now and then he would take one down, like it was his, go to the toilet, then put the bag back in the overhead thingy upon his return. I was starting to feel a little scared, this guy was obviously sketchy. I mean, what if he followed me all the way to Milan. Thankfully he got off at the stop before Milan, with a bag from the train - I bet it wasn't even his. The next morning I started my 26 hour travel day, flying back in time, on one continuous July 2nd. I didn't see the sun set, until I was on the plane to Portland from Dallas. I had hoped to sleep on the 10 hour leg of my flight, but couldn't - so I watched bad movies and listened to my ipod. After a delay of a couple of hours, and being squished up in a window seat for the last leg of my journey - I reached Portland around 11 p.m. I am really glad to be home. I slept well, had a good American breakfast of blueberry pancakes, and started the process of unpacking all the boxes that are now lining the walls of my newly floored, and painted condo. The restoration crew that fixed the place up from the leak on the roof, had done a great job - but now it's up to me to put the place back together. So the past two days I have been doing exactly that (in between naps). The jet lag usually wakes me up around 5 a.m., I start unpacking, eat breakfast, unpack some more boxes, have a late lunch/dinner, take a nice long bath, then go to bed around 6 or 7. I slept a good long time last night, so I hope the jet lag will work itself out soon. Today's unpacking left me with a really sore back, so I am taking time out to sit on some ice and catch up on the events of the past two weeks or so in this blog. 


Leaving Dublin, on my way to meet up with the girls from Portland in Venice, Italy - I stopped over for a night in Avignon, France. This little city is known as The Village of the Popes. It is near some of the most amazing lavender fields in France, not to mention the Lavender Museum! I had hoped to have enough time to visit, but because it is in the middle of BFE, and the bus only runs twice a day there, I didn't have time to go. I would've missed my train to Venice - so I just hung out in the city and enjoyed the nice sunny day.

Avignon

Avignon is a very quaint, and very cool place. I hit the town the same weekend as their Gay Pride Festival. Super fun to people watch! There were only about 100 or so folks there celebrating, but they were doing it right, blasting Cher songs and dancing in the town square right in front of the ancient Catholic Church. I wish I had taken a photo - but I was on my way for a tram tour of the city, and running late. 

church walls

There is a huge Catholic Church on the main town square with a beautiful grotto. The inside of the church is under going some restoration, so I just toured around the grounds outside. There were ponds with fish, and ducks, flower gardens, and lots of green space to sit and ponder. 

naked dancing lady statue in the middle of the pond

angel wishing he was dancing with the naked lady (totally my interpretation)

There was a tiny ally way next to the big church. It being the lesser road than the one I was on, I decided to follow the path (not marked by a little yellow walking man - but I felt as though he would go there) and came across a smaller square with a smaller church called the Church of St. Pietro. It was really gorgeous on the inside.

the alley way

Church of St. Pietro

I have been in quite a few churches now on my journey, and I must say, I like the smaller ones. This was my favorite. I love the bird. I hung out in here for a little bit, then had a meal at the cafe' next door to the church.

cafe' on cobble stones

I had a wonderful salad, and bottle of wine. Bottle!?!, yep. When I looked at the price, I thought I was ordering a glass. I was really surprised when the bottle showed up. I managed to drink half of it - it was really good! I hung out here for a while and read my book while my wine stooper passed. I met a couple from Holland, and a group of ladies from Paris. There was also a little 3 year old boy who kept coming over to talk to me (his stroller with the balloon in the pic). The crowning moment of the meal, though, was when Billie Holidays voice came wafting out of the cafe' singing "I'm going to sit right down and write myself a letter...." I don't know, something about the meal, the wine, the cobble stoned little square, then Billie - it made me miss Portland. The song brought back memories of dancing to the PK3 at the Maiden. I was completely blissful but longing to be home. This was probably the moment I realized, for the first time, that I was ready to come home. I have had a wonderful trip, but after putting myself in unfamiliar territory for over two months, I was ready for some same old, same old. I was really glad that the next part of my trip would involve some friends from Portland.