Shopping urge over, I set off for the river as le pont of course had to be done. I bought a joint ticket for the pont and the Palais des Papes, and was blessed with glorious sunny weather and blue skies for my snaps of the Rhone and this ancient bridge that kind of fell apart following floods and was declared unsafe as far back as the end of the 17th century - so it now pokes out somewhat sadly, having once been a stunning 900m long with 22 arches instead of now four. The views are real purty though, and the story of the restoration, with its 3D video showing the medieval bridge, is interesting.
Intending to visit La Palais des Papes next, I was waylaid by the rickety little "train" (more of an extended milk float) that goes around the old town on a tour. Can't say it was the most comfortable 40 minutes I've ever spent, and you do feel a bit of a tourist prat in full view of everyone, but it's still a good way to orientate yourself and soak up a bit of history.
After that I went into the Palais - it's a well-restored castle, designed and built by three successive popes who opted to stay in France rather than reign from Rome in the 14th century - all very complicated. I especially like the chambres of the Pope and his head honcho, with beautiful glazed ceramic floor tiles in loads of different designs, and painted walls with floral and pastoral scenes. Turns out the popes were so paranoid about being assassinated that only they and their head chamberlain were allowed to use knives, even at mealtimes.
Une omelette aux fromages et champignons et un verre de vin blanc later, and I walked in circles through the little streets of this well-heeled and rather charming town. It's pretty good for shopping and I was able to extend the two retro table mats I bought in Carcassone last year to a more rounded four. After that, I went to the Collection Lambert contemporary art gallery.
Much of what I saw had been curated from the collection of the famous (here at least) and late French actor and director Patrice Chereau and was an eclectic selection of personal art works, memorabilia, film clips of his performances and I guess stuff he just admired. Had I known who he was, it may have been more memorable but of course as I didn't, it failed to hang together for me for the most part. I wasn't hugely drawn to much of the permanent collection either, apart from the work of Douglas Gordon, a Scottish artist (that's me inside Charlotte Rampling's head that is)
but never let it be said that I'm not pushing the boundaries of my understanding and experience of art on this trip. I liked the simplicity of these twirly shiny things outside too
I headed back towards the Palais so that I could take a walk along the Promenade des Papes and the Rocher des Doms before evening fell - the views are amazing
Le pont encore |
Golden girl on top of the cathedral |
Dinner tonight was a slightly weird concoction of lemon chicken and ravioli (it turned out to be compulsory to choose more than one dish, despite my protestations that just chicken would be fine), and it's another earlyish night for me (though actually I've found it's not very tempting to stay out late when you're travelling solo) as I'm hopping on a train to Arles tomorrow in search of VVG.
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