I've had cause to say this several times to mon cher mari these past few days, as this is where we happen to be. Avignon. For a long weekend.
There are two things that happen when I go on holiday. One, my bowel goes into seismic arrest. No go. And Two my other baby bunion starts to throb. Yes, glow.
The title of this Blog gives me licence to go into detail about one and thankfully (universal sigh of relief) not the other. For those wistfully wondering how the ex-bunion is faring.. Thank you, it is tip-top.
There are many cobble stones in the magnificent city of Avignon. But I think the baby bastard bunion is merely using these as an excuse. I think it has grand designs.
Well, let me tell you, I can have grand designs too.. But more of this plus tard.
Look, I'll cut out the French because that is exactly what I have done on this trip when I was so aghast at finding myself telling a stranger that there was no 'bed' (lit) in the public toilet from which I'd blindly emerged, instead of 'light' (lumiere). Why does the brain always trawl over these things when it is too late to correct them?
Anyway, after the blissfully simple journey from St Pancras, London, on the Eurostar to Avignon (no changes apart from a local train in Avignon to take you to the centre) and a Campari you could swim in, at the lovely La Mirande, I agreed to a wine tour of Chateau Neuf du Pape the next day.
We heroically did our homework the night before, on half a bottle. We hoped the following day would not prove that we've been doing it wrong all these years..
Post script:
I have since looked up the word for bunion in French. You will never believe it... It's oignon. Yes, the French for onion.
In the process I found a very nice recipe for French Onion Soup which unsurprisingly the French call Onion Soup. I found it on an elegant Blog called
aladyinfrance.com. She certainly knows her onions when it comes to blogging. And a lot more.
Inside the Papal Palace
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