Author: Glendon

Retired Australian Lawyer having worked representing the innocent and the not so innocent in Australia and some of the remote parts of the world and having travelled widely through Europe, Western Russia, Canada, USA, New Zealand, Thailand Malaysia Solomon Islands northern China, Hong Kong and the UAE So now that I have the time I am writing about my travels present and past. Hope you enjoy exploring off the beaten track.

The Retirees go Abroad – Viareggio and a day at the beach

Florence had been such a hot day and we had enjoyed our swim at Monterosso al Mare so when Kerry learned of a beach at Viareggio from Robert’s sister in law Jane, we knew how we would be spending that day. Jane has been living in Lucca for a number of years and when we called upon her, her sister from the UK was visiting. Jane will be moving back to Australia and her sister was quite upset that distance would make their catch ups less frequent. We had a relatively peaceful drink at the Mercato Cafe of the dead chook except when any one squeezed the “dead chook” which then emitted a squealing sound. Kerry learned about Aperol, ginger ale and prosecco that afternoon.

Our drive to Viareggio was very pleasant. We avoided the toll roads and saw some of the villages on the way. There were pleasant river crossings, typical villages and reminders of the past along the most circuitous route imaginable. Nevertheless we got to the beach.

Along the road in front of the beach was an enormous market then a line of shops then the little kingdoms. Again the beach was divided into little kingdoms. The day was hot and getting hotter so we wasted no time in selecting Narcisa to set up camp. Narcisa is a family run business with lovely flower gardens to greet you and grandma on the front desk who “no speaka de English” but her son does. The son, grey haired and about our age, comes over in his DTs (dick togs) and gardening gloves and gives us the sales pitch and throws in some extras (two lounges instead of one) which was very nice. We agree to rent the umbrella and go to the designated change rooms (a store room most of the time) to change into our swimming gear.

We made our way to the designated umbrella and settled in. The beach was sandy and at least 100m wide with umbrellas as far as the eye could see. We were comforted to see the life guard at his post. We strolled into the water. It was a little warmer than Monterosso but not as clear and not as deep. We walked out about 20 m and the water was barely above my waist. Even so we were in the water for about 5 minutes and a fish jumped from the water. It looked about a kilo in size and the shape of a mullet. This was to happen at least half a dozen times whilst we were paddling and lolling in the water. Then I noticed that something in the water was bumping into us. Jellyfish! Blue with a small black fringe, they danced between our legs. Some the size of a twenty cent piece and others up to the size of a man’s fist. I managed to catch one or two for a closer look.

After swimming we went back to the office to get money for lunch at the café on the premises. We ran into the son again and told him of the sighting of the fish jumping and he looked at us in complete amazement and said “what out there – fishes jumping”. He then said “I don’t know nothing about fishes you ask my brother the life guard he knows about fishes”. Well I thought it hilarious. The astonishment that something lived in the water and the fact that the life guard was as old as us – not that there was much rough surf for him to contend with.

After lunch we thought we would go back to the markets and stroll through and eat an ice cream. No such luck. The markets had finished and the shops had closed for lunch time siesta. But we got to witness some pretty incredible technology in the way in which these stalls were set up. Most had vans with a large box on the roof. In this box was the awning and using just a remote control the stallholder opened and closed his shop. Oh and there was some other equipment caught my eye. See if you can find it in the photos.

We had heard that there was a free concert on in the amphitheatre in Lucca so that night we made our way into the amphitheatre by bus. Surprisingly the bus was free so a good start to the night. I made an error of judgment as to which stop to get off and we ended up walking through the city where we encountered a shop with a weaving loom in the front window and the weaver hard at work. No sale items though the price tags all had three digits.  We selected our restaurant Bistro Bar L’Emiliana and settled in for dinner and the show at 9.00pm. Well it was not much of a show – a jazz trio playing classical music (Puccini) – not to my taste.

We finished about 10.00pm and knowing that the last bus had long since gone we asked the waiter to organise a taxi. No problems. He told us to wait at our table and the cab would come into the amphitheatre to collect us. The amphitheatre was wall to wall restaurants, jazz band audience and kids playing on bikes etc. This I had to see. As I expected the cab was a no show. The waiter clearly embarrassed by the no show went in search of the taxi with us in tow. We found our cab with the driver trying to explain to an American with pins through his left leg that he could not just hail a cab when it had been booked. The driver made the Yank sit down and told him he would be back to get him.

We piled into the cab, gave the driver the address and settled back but not for long for this fellow took off at enormous speed through the narrow streets filled with pedestrians and bikes and then raced a scooter and another car to be the first out the city gate. Even though I sat in the front with the driver, I could feel Kerry’s grip on the cab door growing ever tighter and nervous laughter coming from Kerry and Veronica in the backseat. The taxi driver explained that he hated “romantic drivers” – people casually driving because they did not have timing issues and a family to feed from driving a cab; he said he had already had 4 expressos and there would be many more before the night was through. Well we made it home but felt like we had just got off a ride at Disney World. So the night ended on a happy note – we were still alive and on holiday.

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The Retirees go Abroad – Cinque Terre

We had heard it reported that Cinque Terre was the place to go in Tuscany. So we did.

It all started with leaving our flat and taking the car to La Spezia where we parked under the train station. We then caught the train to Riomaggiore along with thousands of other tourists. Our arrival at Riomaggiore coincided with at least half of those tourists on the train – the others were going to the beach judging by the towels and sun screen.

The village is sitting on the edge of a rocky outcrop and each house seems to be either clinging on or dug in. Enquiries with the information office gave us two options – take the tunnel to the main square and the harbour or do a tour of the village by walking around the hill and down into the main square. When we stated that the stroll through the village sounded nice the assistant at the information office came to life and produced maps and information about “her village”.

Outside the day was starting to warm up. The sky was clear and there was very little breeze. A very tired mural on the wall outside of the office told the story of the hard work and life endured by the locals and set the scene for the village we were about to explore.

The walk started with a steep climb past some “high rise” and then higher up there were detached houses with gardens growing fruit and vegetables in all possible spots. We were about half way to the top and the sea came into view. The sea was a deep blue and dotted with ferries, and the vision affirmed our decision to travel to the next village by ferry. We could see the ocean path leading to Manarola (the next village) and we could also see the rock slides that had closed the path thank goodness. It meant our decision was between the ferry and the train. It was too hot to walk across the top of the hill.

We climbed further into the village following the stony paths that passed for roads and encountered picturesque views of the village and its houses with “altanas” – (Italian roof top patios) and its community church. After the church the main street ran from the top of the village down to its square. Busy with tourists, we quickly moved through to catch the ferry. From the harbour I was able to photograph some of the more beautiful sights in Riomaggiore. We lined up along with a few others (busloads of them) and caught the ferry for a five minute cruise to Manarola and a meeting with our own Italian Roberto the bus driver from Bribie.

The landing at Manorola was a little more harrowing than Riomaggiore due to the narrowness of the access but the village was just as enchanting as Riomaggiore. Roberto was waiting breathlessly with his travelling companion to greet us and to whisk us away from the tourist highlights of the village to a more traditional (or so he said) part of the village and his chosen restaurant for lunch- Nessun Dorma. I must say we did have what appeared to best the best vantage spot to view the village and the restaurant was quaint with its vegetable gardens growing throughout the restaurant.

After lunch he showed us the toughest way back to the village, but in the course of doing so I met this lovely iron maiden who insisted on wearing her birthday suit to the beach and a quaint place of rest overlooking the sea. In the shade of the umbrellas and with the sea breezes kissing our cheeks we had not realised how hot the day had become until arriving in the village main street. Enclosed by houses and protected against any breeze it was stifling. So we bid our farewells to our Italian Stallion and caught the train to Monterosso al Mare.

The northern most village of the five towns making up the Cinque Terre, Monterosso al Mare has beaches rather than rock walls. But the beaches are all segregated into little kingdoms of umbrellas and deck chairs. For a fee you get your own piece of the beach for the day with access to showers toilets and change rooms. We had a choice – walk to the old city and see the town or get our own piece of beach and go for a swim. The sun made up our minds – swim it is.

For 11€ we got two sun beds and an umbrella. For the four of us that was fine and relatively in expensive. A change into our swimmers and a dash across the sand we were pulled up short when entering the water. The sun decided to hide behind a cloud and the water was bloody freezing. I was delayed about a nano second before diving in “to exercise my injured tendon”. It took Kerry a bit longer but she got in pretty quickly for Kerry standards. So refreshing! There are no waves and no current and the beach drops away fairly quickly so that floating around in the water was the way to go as every time you dropped your legs into the deeper water a cold current “freshened” you up again. We spent the rest of the afternoon refreshing and forgot about the village and the other two villages – next time maybe.

Around 5.00pm we headed for the train and home. The crowds got the same idea. Even so we managed to get to the carpark and home by 7.00pm for dinner and a few hands of cards.

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The Retirees go Abroad – Florence

The hot weather has continued. Even as we awake we can tell it will be another stinking hot day, but we have booked our tickets and we are going to Florence – home of David. Not David Colch; the real statue of  David by Michelangelo. We arrive at the station and the train turns up if not on time a little ahead of time. So un-Italian!

Arriving in Florence our plan of action was to catch the hop on hop off bus and determine what sights we wanted to see. We knew that the bus station was “just outside” the railway station but the railway station was large and very busy. In addition there were a number of entrances. We made our way to the front and watched as one of the Hop on buses sailed passed the station. Kerry skilfully tracked it down and we managed to catch a Blue Line bus – you have a choice of blue, red or yellow each with a different route.

Our tour took us past the river and up onto a hill overlooking the city where we got fabulous views of the Duomo, the Palace and a look alike statue of David above the Acadamie where the original stands (and you can view for a small fee around €30). We thought we would see what else was on offer.

The next point of interest was the Ponte Vecchio – a bridge similar to the Rialto Bridge in Venice – covered with shops. However this one had an additional feature. It provided a secret path between the Palazzo Pitti and Palazzo Vecchio for the lords to pass without the commoners knowing. The bridge is covered with jewellery shops and tourists. We walked across rather quickly trying to keep to the shade and on to Palazzo Pitti. I found this to be a large colourless building and as it was too hot lunch beckoned.

So we found a restaurant. Walking back to the Ponte we encountered Hotel Scarletta. They offered a two course plate for 15€ and we decided to splurge. The sign directed us into a passage and then into a chamber where the sign told us the restaurant and reception were on the third floor. A decrepit old elevator edged its way down and on opening the following notice appeared – “two people only and no unaccompanied baggage”. The girls got in and Veronica was concerned that she would lose her breasts as the cabin was so small. David and I walked the 96 steps to the reception.

The restaurant was located on an “altana” above reception and had fabulous views including the Observatory where Galileo’s astronomical instruments are kept, Palazzio Pitti and the houses that surround it. But most impressive were the fans with the misters. This cooled the atmosphere noticeably and the waitress who had been rather terse. After lunch, which was very tasty and a lot more expensive than the 15 euros we had planned to spend, we ventured to the “altana above the restaurant and got a view of the whole city – Palazzo Vecchio and the dome of Duomo.

Finished with lunch we visited Palazzo Vecchio and the statutes that adorn the Palazzo.

Next was the Duomo.

We made our way back to the Hop on bus stop outside the station and caught a yellow line bus just as a large storm hit the city. The yellow line includes all of the blue line stops but then it goes off into the mountains to Fiesole, a small village often the summer home to Florentines over the centuries. It was then that my battery died so there is only the one photo from the hills.

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The Retirees go Abroad – Lucca and Pisa

We thought that yesterday was hot. Well, our trip to Pisa on Sunday proved to be been hotter. The weather although fine and clear was extremely hot.

We left early our apartment early in the morning to organise our tickets for the trip to Florence and fortunately we drove down as we learned the best place to park in Lucca. At the Stazzione Kerry and Veronica entered into world negotiations with the ticket seller over two return tickets to Florence. Everything including sign language was employed. I kept well out of it by parking the car in a legal parking spot and photographing the station, the park in front of the station and the bees busy at work in the Magnolia Trees.

We decided to use the village roads to Pisa and avoided toll roads. This meant we drove through the villages between Lucca and Pisa which included travelling through a tunnel and once we exited the hillside we had a complete view of the plane on which Pisa stands. Even its famous tower was clear on the skyline. Tommy even had the co-ordinated for the leaning tower so it directed us to the very gate in the walls of the city and to a kind African peddler who pointed out a free car park and held it for us (for a few shekels of course).

We were expecting a crowd in Pisa even though it was a Sunday. We were not disappointed. In less than 5 minutes we had walked into a crowd of tourists all taking their cliché photographs of the Tower.

It was about 11.00 am by then and Veronica found out that Mass was  being held in the cathedral, so she and David went in the adherents’ door whilst the non-believers were directed to the other door. A big sign greets you “Silence whilst in the cathedral and no photography”. That is water off a duck’s back to the gaggle of tourists, many Italian, tramping through door. Cameras and IPhones were clicking and a cacophony of voices rumbled as the Priest went through the Mass. So against my better judgement I clipped off a few shots of this magnificent monument.

Beside the cathedral is the Baptistery, equally as grand and 5€ to enter so you only get shots of the outside. Similarly with the Campanile we were not spending money to enter as we had hopes of catching the hop on hop off bus. These buildings are surrounded by the ancient city walls and where there once stood other buildings of the town now is only grass and the best lawn mower I have seen – air-conditioned cab and vacuum collection of the cut grass.

Once Mass had finished and we had refilled our water bottles at the communal fountain (frequently found in towns and villages of southern France and northern Italy), we head back to a restaurant with a special for lunch. The girls were using Veronica’s fold up umbrellas as well as hats it was so hot. We had turned down an African peddler this morning selling fold up umbrellas but now seeing the value we traded with one of them beating him down to 6€ for two umbrellas. Lunch was filling and cheap after which we made our way through the African peddlers back to the tourist information centre. One peddler was doing the silent act and we have no idea how he could do it in the heat. Kerry thought he deserved something for his effort and was rewarded with a photo opportunity.

We walked across the plaza of the leaning tower to catch the bus outside the opposite gate. It was extremely hot standing waiting for the bus and when it did arrive it was very uncomfortable on the top in the sun so the tour was a bit Ho hum for me but here are some pictures.

After completing the bus ride (the bus seemed to develop a fault so we got off  it was too hot to wait for another bus) we split up as Veronica had found some shops. Kerry and I took a slow walk back to the car via the tourist information centre where we cooled off in the air-conditioning. There was a display of scooters in relation to an old Cary Grant movie (cannot recall which one) and so Mrs Young had to pose for the camera.

A very hot Veronica and David returned to the car shortly after we arrived. With all windows wound down we drove home via the Carrefour Shopping Centre for some groceries and a cold drink. We sat in that shop for some time with the car underneath to cool it down. Cold showers all round once we got home.

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The Retirees go Abroad – Lucca on a hot day

We set out early for Lucca from Nice (that is if you call 9.00am early). The car is now loaded to the gunnels but is still travelling sweetly. We can tell this is going to be another hot day and this is soon confirmed with Autostrada information – the temperate is 32C.

Leaving Nice is a task with its winding highway through the centre of the city but once clear of the city it is plain sailing. The sky is clear and the sun is starting to burn. With the air conditioning pump disconnected its windows down and head into the breeze. Fortunately the E80, A10 and A12 must be the world’s most tunnelled stretch of road. Not aware of the immense number of tunnels to come we did not count them but it would have to been in the order of 50+ as we journeyed through to Lucca. Most were over 600m long and every one had its own name as did the bridges stretching to cross the immense gulfs of air between mountains. There were equally as many bridges as tunnels.

We pass many hilltop villages and the landscape is mountainous to our left but pretty coastline and villages to our right. But both are hot as the notice board on the Autostrada continues to inform. On we fly hot wind in our hair and sweat running down our backs.

We stop for a cuppa underneath a radio satellite station on top of hills looking like moon stations. We pass Carrara and the scar on the mountain where they drag out the huge blocks of marble. The toll gates await as we turn off the Autostrada into Lucca.

Finally we arrive at our apartment. Kerry’s IPhone says “no service” so we cannot contact the landlord to let him know we have arrived early. David to the rescue and we make contact. No English! Okay the Italian lessons start sooner than expected.

A young woman arrives with a determined haste – it is Valerie with our key. Escape from the sun is now at hand. We have a lift so in go the suitcases but the apartment is a bit weird. Valerie is in such a hurry she does not ask for the bond and is gone before we can finish asking our questions – like where is the kettle?

David studies the apartment information and I have a shower to cool down. Cold water all around. Meantime we plan a visit to the old city via bus. The stop is across the road from our apartment block and the driver “no comprendi” but had a good idea of what every tourist wants. When we arrive at Porta de Pietro (a gate in the city walls – yes the wooden gates are still hanging in place) even the old chap sitting at the bus stop gave us a sign – no not the finger but pointed in the direction we had to go. We are such obvious tourists!

Finding the Tourism Office was quite a task. The map given to us by the landlord showed two offices and of course we chose the one that had closed. David interrogated two young kids kicking a football and got nowhere. I asked a signor outside some dodgy looking establishment and we were on our way. At the other end of the town we found the office in what looked like an old fort near the ramparts.

We then moved back through the town to a small square (Plaza del Puccini) where we settled in Madama Butterfly for some drinks. The breeze was starting to rise and the temperature was cooling. Some local beers and a half carafe of wine and Lucca was looking not too bad. We had settled so we looked at the menu. Two pizzas to share and another round of drinks and the girls were giggly. The waiter was young and handsome and the girls were feeling like flirting so we ordered desert. Then the band started in the square so we ordered coffee. Our budget was blown!

As we made our way back to our bus stop Pallazio Napoleane was being invaded by people dressed in white. Veronica ever the chatty one asked what was going on and found out that there was a fund raising dinner happening in the square and everyone brought their own plate and dressed in white. Meanwhile I had spotted a boxing match in an adjoining square. So I stayed to watch a couple of rounds until dragged away to catch the bus. On the way I was able to snap the old city gates still hanging by their ancient hinges, two interesting balconies and the Italians love of scooters.

Tomorrow had immense promise; we head for Pisa.

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The Retirees go Abroad – Nice – Days 9, 10 and 11

I have brought these three days together as we mainly spent time in Nice enjoying being in the city. We found that swimming in the Mediterranean Sea was very refreshing, too cold and that you could enjoy a pebble beach. Embarrassing photos have been posted on Facebook by others so I won’t repeat them here.

Nice can be eclectic. Traditional and off beat at the same time.

For example here are pictures of wall murals; one of a pencil drawing windows on the building and the other of a Greek style goddess appearing from the side of a building. Like most French they park anywhere. Here is a phot of a motor bike parked in a shop window. But then they have very pretty window boxes of flowers everywhere. Except at the front of our apartment which was very commercial looking.

That evening we left our apartment and strolled across to the Promenade Des Anglais to see a “strawberry moon”; another cockamamie idea by someone. So I spent my time taking shots (photos) of planes taking off from Nice airport and the lights of the promenade at night. It was too cloudy for the moon. Oh, the other photo is the street entrance to our apartment.

The next day we showed David and Veronica Nice’s old town. Starting with the Promenade des Anglais and its palms, then the harbour, some of the spectacular old homes, the headland and its memorial to fallen soldiers, some things modern, and somethings very old. We went to the home of Henri Matisse which is now a museum to his art. Back in town we kicked around the park and wished we had our swimmers on for a run through the fountains.

In fact we caught the hop on hop off bus and then the train to get to all these places. Last stop was the ruins of the old fort on the headland for the best views of the city and its beach.

Day 11 was spent at the flower markets. We saw some very pretty blooms and some interesting wall gardens.

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The Retirees go Abroad – Cannes

The 5th of June. It’s Saturday and the hot weather is continuing. But this will not keep us down. We have determined to drive to Cannes and not by the motorway in the hope we will travel along the coast. We leave Nice with the morning rush hour traffic but soon leave it behind as we move into the coastal towns between Nice and Cannes. We start to get a feel for Cannes at Antibes where we spot a yacht moored with its helicopter at the ready to transport those important people to important places.

We make our way to a central parking station and move out onto the streets of Cannes. Shops abound. Some palatial, some bizarre and others just tourist.

We make our way to the Promenade and see that the boats are in. Bloody tourists spoiling our day!

The tourist information centre is our first port of call and then we try an ice cream as it is a hot spring day. The old city calls us like a siren and without knowing it we have climbed to the top of the hill. Some glorious shots of the city and coast and some fabulous pictures of the old city itself. I noticed the clock on the church tower was named “Brian”. I wonder if this was the inspiration for “The Life of Brian”. Perhaps not.

Back down the hill we are into the back lanes and the markets. Fresh fruit and veg, meats, sausages and the world most expensive nougat. A pretty fancy mobile pizza oven as well! Kerry spots a nifty shopping trolley and stops the woman wheeling it to find out where she got it. “Off the internet” says the woman with a North American accent.

We wander the back alleys and then onto Rue Antibes the shoppers Mecca, but the girls resist the sirens call. We make our way to the car and collect our picnic then go to the park on the Promenade where we dine on fresh baguette ham and salad. We are awaiting the tourist train that has been held hostage by those tourists from the boats. Finally it is our turn and we jump aboard for the slow trip through the traffic looking at hotels and hearing about the rich and famous, just about makes you puke. But Kerry spots the Palm Casino and her partner in crime Veronica are both determined to walk the red carpet with the memories of their winning at Monaco.

So after the train rise finishes we head to Palm Beach Casino. There is a grand entrance with naked Atlas holding up the pillars of the earth for a squibby little gaming area inside, but the machines were ruthless never the less and took the money from our giggling girls.

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Hot sweating and somewhat tired we head home to Nice. It is getting on to 6.00pm but you would not know it. A swim in the Baie of Anges is the next treat and a treat it was. Cool with currents of cold, it turned some hot sweaty bodies into ice but the real issue was getting out of the water. An all pebble beach is difficult to walk on particularly when it collapses as you try to get out of the water.

A fantastic finish to the day and making us eager for tomorrow. But there are a few hands of cards before we see any sleep.

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The Retirees go Abroad – Nice and the Cote D’Azur – Pont du Gard

It is day 9 and a long trip to Nice as we are going via Pont du Gard a Roman aqueduct. Sunshine and blue skies made the trip comfortable and we were all excited to visit this relic. On arriving at Remoulins, we made our way to a ticket office and barrier. 18€ per day was the entry fee. We thought that was a bit steep for a stop and look visit, so we looked for another option including parking illegally in a nearby caravan park. Fortunately we reflected on the cost and realised that this was only 4€.25 per person so we opened our wallets. And good thing we did as there was a lot more to see than a flying visit.

The bridge descends by a mere 2.5 cm (0.98 in) – a gradient of only 1 in 3,000 – which is indicative of the great precision that Roman engineers were able to achieve, using only simple technology. After the collapse of the Roman Empire and the aqueduct’s fall into disuse, the Pont du Gard remained largely intact, due to the importance of its secondary function, as a toll bridge. For centuries the local lords and bishops were responsible for its upkeep, in exchange for the right to levy tolls on travellers using it to cross the river. In 2000 with the opening of a new visitor centre and the removal of traffic and buildings from the bridge and the area immediately around it, it became one of France’s most popular tourist attractions.

Today the bridge is part of a large park which caters for holiday camping and bush activities, museums and of course the aqueduct across the Gardon. It is a long walk from the carpark to the aqueduct but once you turn the last corner you can imagine you are in Roman Gaul 2,000 years ago (except for the even concrete path under foot). The Pont du Gard (literally: Gard Bridge) is there in front of you The bridge has three tiers of arches, standing 48.8 m (160 ft.) high.  An ancient Roman aqueduct bridge built in the 1st century AD that crosses the Gardon River, from which it takes its name, it is part of the Nîmes aqueduct, a 50 km-long (31 mi) structure built by the Romans to carry water from a spring at Uzès to the Roman colony of Nemausus (Nîmes). Because the terrain between the two points is hilly, the aqueduct – built mostly underground – took a long, winding route that crossed the gorge of the Gardon, requiring the construction of an aqueduct bridge.

We crossed the bridge and I ventured onto the highest part of the ridge to gain a better view. There was a camera crew and pyrotechnics crew preparing for a celebration in June and so you will see in the photos people on the top if the bridge. It is no longer open to the public to climb a recently built (19th century) internal staircase to the top to protect the bridge. We spent a couple of hours there. So much for a quick look and see.

From here we travelled back toward Avignon and then onto Nice. A nice sunny day but too hot for a car without airconditioning.

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The Retirees go Abroad – St Paul de Vence and Grasse

Despite the expense of the cab on Sunday, we saddled up for a day at St Paul de Vence and La Colombe D’Or.

Saint-Paul is a commune in the Alpes-Maritimes department in south eastern France. One of the oldest medieval towns on the French Riviera, it is well known for its modern and contemporary art museums and galleries. Saint-Paul de Vence has long been a haven of the famous. During the 1960s, it was frequented by French actors Yves Montand, Simone Signoret and Lino Ventura, and poet Jacques Prévert. Saint-Paul is also well known for the artists who have lived there, such as Jacques Raverat, Gwen Raverat and Marc Chagall and more recently the couple Bernard-Henri Lévy and Arielle Dombasle. Former Rolling Stones bassist Bill Wyman has a home there. American writer James Baldwin died there in 1987. British actor Donald Pleasence died there in 1995.

The Colombe d’Or started life in 1920 as “Chez Robinson”, a café bar with an open air-terrace where people would dance at weekends. It soon attracted characters from the neighbourhood, which gave the idea to Paul with the support of his wife Baptistine “Titine”, to extend and reopen as the Colombe d’Or, an inn of 3 rooms. The friendly atmosphere together with Paul’s deep interest in the arts brought the visit of many artists and the walls were soon covered by paintings, which often were exchanged for a stay or a few meals. The art collection has grown year on year until today. And the Roux family continues to take care of the Colombe d’Or.

After showing Veronica and David the village we then went to the restaurant which we had booked months in advance.

The village is enclosed by a wall and has many art studios and restaurants amongst its narrow streets. Like the keep in Windsor castle visitors to the village in early times were welcomed with a canon at the front door. Throughout the village are the wells and fountains that sustained the people inside the walls. Some of the houses are brightly decorated with flowers and vines and even have friendly inhabitants. At the opposite end of the village is the cemetery and the chapel in which the village has farewelled members of its community over the centuries. There is the church dedicated to St Paul and holding if not the remains of St Paul then relics of St Paul.

The time had arrived that we could enter La Colombe d’Or. We had planned that we would visit the hotel and view the art donated by the likes of Picasso and Matisse in exchange for meals. Even just the décor is extraordinary. The front door looks like a stable door but when open your entry is barred by a rope until your reservation is checked. There after you are shown into the bar and the hotel, its dining room and its lounge with the art on the walls all around you. After drinks you return to the courtyard and are shown to your table where the menu is explained to us dummies who don’t know French. Our waiter spoke very good English and joked and interacted with us throughout an extra special meal. Once we were too full to eat anything more he tempted us with a plate of fresh raspberries and crème fraise. A very special memory.

After a thoroughly delightful lunch we dragged ourselves away from La Colombe D’Or to the centre for perfumes at Grasse. Having experienced the tour at Froganaud Kerry and I filled in time and met David and Veronica to stroll through the village. A very different place to St Paul de Vence as my pictures will testify.

The day ended with a trip home in the evening traffic that grid locks Nice but we were still smiling from that lunch.

The Retirees go Abroad – Around Avignon – the Papal Palace

Although windy the previous day, we could feel that the weather had changed significantly and that shorts would be the dress code for the future. I had for a long time between curious about a papal city outside Rome. This trip allowed me to indulge that curiosity.

Here is a short snippet of the intriguing history of the Avignon Popes. In 1309 the city was chosen by Pope Clement V as his residence rather than Rome. Between 1309 and 1377 during the Avignon Papacy, seven successive popes resided in Avignon and in 1348 Pope Clement VI bought the town from Joanna I of Naples. Avignon became the Pontifical residence of Pope Clement V and his successor, John XXII, a former bishop of the diocese, who made it the capital of Christianity and transformed the former episcopal palace into the primary Palace of the Popes. Urban V took the first decision to return to Rome, but the chaotic situation there with different conflicts prevented him from staying there. He died shortly after his return to Avignon and his successor, Gregory XI, also decided to return to Rome and this ended the first period of the Avignon Papacy. When Gregory XI brought the seat of the papacy to Rome in 1377, the city of Avignon was administered by a legate. The early death of Gregory XI caused the Great Schism. Clement VII and Benedict XIII reigned again in Avignon. Papal control persisted until 1791 when, during the French Revolution, it became part of France. The town is now the capital of the Vaucluse department and one of the few French cities to have preserved its ramparts around the whole of the old city. From then on until the French Revolution, Avignon was a papal possession.

We had strolled around the base of the “Palais des Papes” the previous evening after dinner but we wanted to get our plans in order so that we did not waste any of our time. We visited the tourist Info centre and gained some valuable info as well as learning a trick to get discount entry fees to the Palais. The trick is to pick up the brochure for the Avignon explorer’s pass and validate it by visiting one of the cheaper tourist sites pay the full fee and get discounts at all of the others.

This is how we ended up visiting the Archaeology Museum in Rue de Republic. The display was fairly routine except for five gallo-roman masks which seemed to me to be similar to the South American masks I have seen.

We then made our way along Rue de Republic to the Palais. The Popes relied on the defence provide by strong fortifications of their palace, the “Palais des Papes” with walls 17–18 feet thick, and built on a natural spur of rock, rendering it all but impregnable to attack. After its capture following the French Revolution, it was used as a barracks and prison for many years but it is now a museum. The historic centre of Avignon includes the Palais des Papes, the cathedral, and the Pont d’Avignon. Here are some photos of the interior and exterior of the Palais.

This is one of the largest if not the largest Palais of its kind in Europe and its restoration is still on going. In fact they only recently found secret vaults in the treasury for the Papal wealth and documents.

We also visited some other sites of interest including various buildings where the glass had been removed and images on board replaced them, the Hotel de Ville and its odd tower, the opera alongside it the contrasting Mercure Hotel and the mint where the Popes minted their currency. We also visited another small museum down a lane way and obtained two interesting snaps – one of the entrance to the lane and the other being pictures of an early Avignon. We also walked outside the city walls along the banks of the Rhone to catch a ferry ride around parts of the river and the city.

The ferry ride was lacking in information but it was great to be in air conditioning out of the sun. We got to see one of the “Scenic Tours” fleet and to feel the bump of the debris against the hull of the boat. I also got to photograph some kids on jet skis but how they missed the debris I don’t know.

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