Strange Drives

it feels strange to write that this morning we got up, had breakfast, then drove a little way down the highway to chateauneuf du pape (one of my favorite wine regions) to visit vieux telegraph (one of my favorite wine makers) like it was going to the corner store.  it's a maddening that such old vines & viticultural talent are present everywhere here with a nonchalance that's so genuine it's shocking.

afterward we drove to avignon, a 14th century walled cobblestone medieval city that housed various catholic popes during papal squabbles with rome over taxes and power.  the papal castle is immense--photos can't do it justice--even the sacristy alone is large enough to house several churches.  we took a little kiddy-style train ride through the city to see the sights, and encountered a fresh band of gypsies that tried to pull the same deaf stunt as the one we encountered previously in paris, complete with the same fake forms, clipboard, and pen.  we clamped down on our pockets and slinked past them glaring....

a 2-hour drive later, we arrived in provence.  our hotel doubles as a spa with a pool, manicured grounds, and a fancy-looking restaurant, which is a nice change after the tiny excuse for a room we had in tournon, and we'll *need* a spa after the drive into town from the highway, which involved navigating an increasingly narrow maze of medieval-torture alleys that seemed only a foot wider than the car, and didn't leave much room for the bicycles, dogs, mothers with strollers, and scooters that clogged the streets...we didn't "drive" so much as force our way through seas of crowds a few feet at a time...i still have no idea how i managed to avoid running over a foot, or make the 90-degree turns that would've been impossible in anything larger than our VW jackrabbit or whatever it is we're driving.  we finally found a parking lot near the hotel, and i'm gritting my teeth at the thought of taking the car out...a $100 taxi ride to the idealized version of provence we want to see--farm-fresh produce plucked from soil and cooked tableside in sun-drenched vineyards--you know--sounds like a bargain right now.

this area of provence is known for its roman bath ruins, so everything here is named after water, and there are fountains everywhere.  there's a hot spring spa beside the hotel that's built atop ancient ruins...it almost killed me when i heard that because i'm a sucker for archeology and the thought of installing a modern fiberglass tub over a 2nd-century stone bath just so some rich lady with a poodle can give her silicon tits a rinse hurts me to my indiana jones core...but we might try it tomorrow.   hahaha.  my tits can't wait.

Photos: a typical street in avignon (the street around provence are narrower than this...); a grotesque protecting a building from intruders; the gate outside the papal fortress; spy view of tourists at a cafe from atop the papal castle (with my 300mm telephoto fully extended); carved wood snake figure inside the castle that supports my theory that signs of pre-christian snake worship are still found in judeo-christian architecture, history, and liturgy; low angle of the castle's carved stone archways; and, a view of the thick medieval walls that once protected the popes from invaders.

--s