Up right on time at 6:00 a.m., we rolled out of our apartment right at 7:15 a.m. to walk to the tram stop. The tram was at our stop in less than a minute, and we jumped on, ready to travel.
Inexplicably, we got off one stop too early, then compounded our mistake by walking in the wrong direction. By the time I realized the error, we were several blocks away from the train station. It would have been quicker to catch the tram for that one stop, but we trudged along on foot, paying penance for our inattention. Lynn was none too happy about a walk in the dark.
Our train to Marseilles was ready for boarding well before the 8:25 a.m. departure time, so we were treated to the sight of a nearly empty car to choose our seats for the ride along the Med to Marseilles. POSH is the key to this trip–Port Out, Starboard Home, so we always have a view of the sea, sometimes right at the train tracks.
This was a true commuter train. We stopped at every little town (except our twin city Juan Les Pins) and by the time we reached Marseilles our car was full and there was standing room only for the late boarders. Most of the passengers flowed out at Marseilles to make a connection or to visit France’s second largest city.
Marseilles St. Charles is quite a large train station. Our train departed from Platform M, and there were more of those beyond M. Since we had eaten nothing so far, I grabbed a Poulet Cajun (seriously) sandwich at the stand, and we were off to catch our train. The scanner at the gate worked this time, and we marched unimpeded to the waiting train. Only the cars most forward were open and available for boarding, so we walked up to find good seats for the train ride up the Vaucluse to Avignon, the heart of Chateau-Neuf-de-Pape and Provence.
Avignon Central is a relatively small station compared to Marseilles and Nice that opens directly to the main thoroughfare in Avignon, rue de la Republique, which leads to Place L’Horloge, conveniently the same name as our hotel. Just for once, we had no problem finding our destination.
Our hotel was just off the square where the Christmas decorations were centered. This was not a Christmas market in the sense of Nice and Paris, rather a large display meant for kids. There was a walk through the lighted trees called the Enchanted Forest of Christmas, with more animated animals in little bubbles. Kids were also offered rides on a little train and a carousel for what looked like no charge. Of course, there was a small cotton candy stand, but nothing like the monstrous sweets trailer in the bigger cities.
We had stopped at the tourist office on our 10-minute walk to the hotel and picked up an old-fashioned paper map that delineated the major tourist attractions of Avignon, showing how close they are to one another and to our square. They pitch the City Pass, but we were amazed at the number of museums that are free. As in free. No charge. Just walk in.
So we walked past the massive Palace of the Popes, where a black singer was playing old jazz favorites to the crowd. Just beyond the Palace is the plaza leading to the entrance of the Petit Palais Museum, an astounding collection of mostly Italian paintings from the late Middle Ages and the early Renaissance. And virtually all of the paintings were sent over by the Louvre in Paris.
The Louvre must have been short of space, if that is even possible, so they sent hundreds of major works to Avignon. Opened to the public in 1976, the museum is housed in an early 14th century building that served as the residence of the bishops of Avignon and many centuries later became a school. Today it houses 390 paintings by Renaissance artists like Botticelli and Carpaccio, plus 600 sculptures.
And it’s free. It is one of five museums belonging to the city of Avignon that are open to the public at no charge as part of the city’s heritage.
We spent about an hour in the Petit Palace (it’s named that to differentiate it from the Big One next door), so it was close to 4 p.m. when we left. The last tourist train pulled out at 4 p.m., so we paid our 20 euros (no credit cards, only cash) and boarded in the last two seats for the 45-minute roundabout tour of old Avignon. It was well worth the price and the journey.
By then, it was approaching cocktail hour, and to reinforce our hotel’s strategic location, there is a wine store just catty-corner on the square. Needless to say, I purchased a bottle of Cote du Rhone, which was delicious, even at the low end of their selections, which went right up to three digits.
Our lovely desk agents had tried to make dinner reservations at a restaurant named L’Essentiel, whose reputation is among the best in Avignon. But they were full, so she booked us into Carre du Palais, located in a hotel of that name and less than a hundred yards from the hotel.
What a treat. Lynn ordered a pork confit that fell off the bone as soon as she touched it, and I had the duck, three pieces perfectly prepared, moist and flavorful. Both our dishes were accompanied by a medly of vegetables that included grilled onions, fried plantains, pickled radishes and fried chickpea sticks. I know the last one doesn’t sound wildly gourmet fabulous, but trust me, we had no problem enjoying them.
All in all, it was quite a productive day–a train ride, a museum visit, a roundabout tour and a memorable dinner in a most lovely atmosphere. Tomorrow promises more.