France

Trains, Trains, Trains. Today we travel from Avignon to Lyon, Lyon to Chamberie and Chamberie to Milano. The rail system here is unbelievable. Chamberie is a quaint little mountain town close to the French-Italian border in the Alta Savoya region. It was originally under Italian rule but that changed about 150 years ago. My laptop was out of charge and I couldn’t find a power point on the train. I am so glad or I would have missed the spectacular views. Vicki has developed narcolepsy during our holiday. Only really prevalent on the train system but the journey was far too satisfying to fall into a slumber. Snow capped mountain tops, deep lush green valleys, chalets and cottages lining the mountain side. Just superb.

Pitfall. The only issue with the train ride was the American pseudo rock star. He spoke non-stop for about 2 hours. Please dude, shut up just for a minute and focus on something other than yourself. Maybe try reflecting on how awesome you are internally.

French guy. We met an old French man on the same train. He appeared to be really wealthy and was fascinated to hear all about our trip. He had a house in the mountains just north of Nice. He showed us photos of his chalet covered by the 7.5m of snowfall they had this winter. He was heading up to assess the damage and get repairs underway. Nice guy and he fortunately balanced out the self-indulgent rock star.

Aussie, Aussie, Aussie. We met a nice couple from Sydney (I know, hard to believe isn’t it?!) at breakfast. They had just come from Italy so were full of handy tips and advice. We had breakfast together before setting out to explore Aix en Provence.

Aix en Provence. The journey from Avignon to Aix en Provence took about an hour. Similar to Avignon but yet there was an element of the boutique way of life here. Cobble stone streets were consistent but far more cafes and designer stores. We again just pottered around but it was stinking hot with not much shade about. Still good to get away from the frantic pace of the bigger cities and soak up the local charm. Unfortunately, the lavender fields were not in bloom which the region is famous for.

The Chicken Man. On the way back to the hotel from the train station, we noticed a sign advertising the Colonel. Not sure why (could be the 11 secret addictive narcotics) but we had to have it. We were advised that it was only a 10 minute walk. Evidence of our obsessive desire was obvious when we hit the 30 minute mark and were compelled to push on. In the distance we saw the cold hypnotic stare of the Colonel. Bucket of chicken please. The 4 kilometre walk back will help.

Regional beauty. It was so nice to be in a place that wasn’t so concerned with the who’s who. Avignon was far more humble and understated yet had all the charm of any place we had previously visited. Cobble stone lined the roads and foot paths, cafes at every turn and plenty of little stores selling local produce and antiques. The slower pace really made for a day of relaxed exploration. We pottered around sticking our heads in the little stores and eventually made our way to the tourist sites. A walk through the main garden along the river felt natural and at no stage did we introduce the uncomfortable pressured feeling of having to see everything in our guide books.

Dinner. The restaurants here had a real authentic feel and we picked a great one tucked away in the backstreets off the beaten path. Three courses of culinary delight. A shrimp ravioli and a wild mushroom dish for entrée. A heart stopping serve of Pig’s trotter for Vic (she may well have put back on all the weight she had just lost) and a delectable piece of lamb shank for me made up the main courses. Dessert consisted of the customary Crème Brulee and a strawberry tart with Marscapone. The wine was good and the ambiance so very complimentary. We’ll need to work hard to burn this meal off.

Drag. Forgot to mention that while we were eating, a 7-foot giant Transexual entered with his partner who must have been a mere 5 foot weighing in at 45Kg. Vicki won’t let me write what I REALLY want to say.

Gabi (Vic's Mum). If ever there was a place we thought Gabi would feel at home then this was it. She would have had to sell Phillippe (The Champion Household Labrador) in order to afford the freight on all the antiques she would have purchased. This place really reminded us of her which may have been why we enjoyed it so much.

Train. Talk about comfort and we even packed ourselves a picnic lunch.

Wall. The town/city of Avignon was surrounded by a medieval wall. Really quite impressive. Plenty of watch towers along the length of it and the wall ran full circle. We took a taxi back to the hotel and ended the night there. We’ll explore tomorrow.

Checked out at 1pm and it felt great. I again hit the gym and pool (after checking out) and Vic hit the shops. Boobs everywhere. The French like to show a bit if titty and poolside in a hotel is no exception. Who am I to complain?

Fight. We headed to the train station to make our way to Avignon. We wanted to book train tickets to our next destination and had to line up for 45 minutes (a common story in the French railway) to do so. Anyway, we were finally called forward. “Parlez-vous Anglais?” “Non Monsieur, next counter.” We approached the next guy and he just started yelling “Fermez, Fermez, Fermez!” Vicki erupted and yelled: “What do we do then? Do you have an alternative? Where is your Manager?” They screamed at each other for a bit before security sorted it out. It didn’t come to mind at the time but I should have yelled "Fermez la bouche!" Still kicking myself for missing that opportunity but Vicki held her own without the need for my assistance.