Can you tell I’ve gone south? Forget even the temperature jump from the fifties to the eighties. Forget the still air, the clear skies (mistral effect!). Or maybe think of them as the culprits. The people act differently (and eat differently!) here. It’s noticeable.
Avignon: southern light
Avignon: southern night
Avignon: southern food
[By the way, may I suggest a "can do" and "don't panic" attitude when travel details unravel? So that if you are waiting at a Brittany bus stop and you learn it's the wrong one, running a mile to get to the correct one before the one and only bus takes off may pay off? And say you have to move from Gare Montparnasse to the Gare de Lyon in Paris, and you have 45 minutes, and say, moreover, that your traveling companion suggests walking and you set out to do so, even though you think it's a bad idea, and say you finally convince him you'd better take the bus and you lead him to the wrong one, and say you then get off and find the right one, and you almost make it except that a passanger picks a fight with the driver and you are two minutes delayed, and say you pull up tp the Gare de Lyon 15 seconds before the TGV pulls out -- don't give up! The train my be on "track A" and the conductor may keep the door open for you as you madly run, backpack loaded with seaweed products from Brittany, and jump inside.]
Tomorrow we set out on les velos. We're so unprepared for this huge amount of daily biking! It should be a bloggable event.