Lucy et Ethel quittent le Vaucluse

We were up quite early Saturday morning, and headed off to the laverie in Malaucene to do the household linens (which we now have a full set of stored with June!), and for Rosanna to retrieve her pedals which she inadvertently forgot to have the shop remove from her rental bike. Once back at the house there was a bit of horsetrading of items – I was prevailed upon to bring afew of Rosanna’s things back and in return she demanded my Q-tip holder (!) and tea towels and several CLif Bars. We divvied up the remaining PetitsEcoliers. I packed the car and made several trips to dump garbage, recycling and compost and she cleaned the house. Then we popped down the road to les Alazards to say goodbye to June and Paul who were cleaning the large gite. The pool looks fantastic I must say, and the house is more beautiful than I recall, and so is the setting. Rosanna wanted to know why we kept dragging our asses on bikes up all thoselong ascents to look at landscapes no more beautiful than what we have in ourown valley.

All of the above done, we decided to stop at Chez Serge in Carpentras for lunch. I commenced my new regime (announced the previous evening). I call it a “meatcleanse”. It involves the elimination (for a period of time) from my diet of all cheese and white carbs (not including weissbier). I started off with prosciutto (salad) followed by faux filet of boeuf (saignant). Delicious! Then we headed towards Avignon and on to Nimes.

Nimes is quite confusing and very very old. The streets are really quite tiny. There are insufficient indications as to whether one is permitted to drive on them, and if so, in which direction. We circled a couple of times and then found our hotel indicated. It was down a narrow (but clearly drivable one-way street). There was no parkingclose by and we had a lot of stuff, so Rosanna decided we should circle back to where she had seen a parking “lot” (a few spaces). We went up one narrow deserted street and that wasn’t so bad until we had to turn, but the vegetable merchants and the vendor across the way were amenable to moving their wares and moving patrons and passersby to safer locations. We only had to fold in one side mirror. That over, we went upanother little street. After about 100 of 150 metres, another car turned into it heading towards us. They assured us we could pass and each car went as close to the wall as possible. All mirrors were folded in. There was about 1 ½ inches of clearance, frommy perspective, which was quite good as I took off my seatbelt and hung out the window, sweating. The other car lost a piece of itself (we think a side mirror). All this and we had only just arrived at the 2-hour “lot” from which we took some stuff into the hotel. Then we moved the car to an indoor lot. I was not much looking forward to that as the one weparked in in this town last year had really narrow spots and a exit ramp pitched at about a 25% grade. I did not at all fancystopping and inserting my parking chit and having to get going again when the gate swung up in something like that. I could not believe it therefore when Rosanna chose to DESCEND into the lot rather than ASCEND. Then there was a stunt involving driving the wrong way around because she had seen a nicer spot on the other side. I was a complete wreck once we left that car. We went almost immediately to the tourist office where I got a city map and Rosanna picked up a brochure on a service that operates a locked surface parking lot outside of town (several kilometers outside) and buses you back and forth. Then I saw a poster advertising a hugespecial flea market in that location this weekend, so I gave short shrift to that idea. I decided to make my best efforts to remain calm until after we took Rosanna to Avignon Sunday morning to catch the train, and thought perhaps things driving-related might not look so awful after a night’s sleep.

Drinks were clearly in order. We went to the arty bar across from the Theatre (and near the good cooking store) where we had had drinks with Crystal and Sandra last year. We only had one beer there, though, because I had spotted a bar called “Country Rock” on the major peripheral street of the old town. We went inside because there were good country music videos (Loretta Lynn) playing. Apparently that meant we were there for dinner service. Rosanna ordered a veggie burger. It came with trail mix (and coleslaw) on it, but she happily ate the fries and onion rings. I ordered the magret burger (called Donald (the “o” is long) Duck). It had coleslaw, mayonnaise, brie, slices of duck magret, mushrooms and a slice of grilled orange on it. I got through half and some fries. The food is not to be recommended, but the performing space looks nice. It is down the street from the “Cat Hotel” and across from “Biggy Burger” and “Speed Rabbit Pizza”. I thought I was in Tokyo.

A little digestive stroll and nightcap seemed in order after all these “a little bit off” events. We headed to something called Bar Hemingway in a hotel, because that seemed safe and had been recommended in the green Michelin, but there were so many tour buses parked in front when we got there we changed our minds and went back to a bar I had liked the look (and sound of) in passing. Barroco. I thought it was a karaoke bar but Rosanna thought it was live music. Turned out it was karaoke. We also think it may have been a gay bar. Certainly there was a significant gay presence, but there were a few other things that made us uncertain. First, there was a woman at the end of the bar, who may have been a mere patron, or may have been the patronne. She did occasionally venture (slowly behind the bar). She was a dead ringer for Jeanne Moreau (in her later later years). Then 4 woman of a certain age all made up and dressed up and reeking of more Poison than Rosanna has smelled since the early 80s came in. Much of the singing was fantastic, although we hardly knew any of the songs. I think Guy would have loved it (and perhaps signed up for a little Jaques Brel – or maybe not since he is Belgian). I made Rosanna stay for a second round of drinks since it was the most fun I had had since my 4pm nervous collapse related to the driving (or more accurately the thought of driving).