Avignon (September 27-28)

On the way up to Paris from Nice we decided to make a stop in Avignon. As far as we can tell, Avignon is famous for two things: 1) almost being the official home of the (Roman) Catholic Church and 2) having a destroyed bridge that is also the inspiration for a children's song. It turns out one day more or less was a good amount to see both of those things.

After we arrived and got situated we went to the former Palace of the Popes. In the early 14th century, the newly elected pope moved the Papal Residence to Avignon rather than stay amidst the violence in Rome. A number of successive popes decided to stay in Avignon despite constant wooing by Rome. Eventually, the residence was moved back to Rome. However, these events also led to the Papal Schism during which time three men all claimed to be pope. It also led to the creation of the word "antipope," which is pretty awesome.

As for the palace itself, it's big and interesting, but largely empty. It was hard to get a sense of what it was actually like because there wasn't much left of the time it was actually used (which makes sense given it was 600+ years ago). The tower has a very good view of the city and river and you can see why the popes found it an attractive location. You can see the castle in the background of this picture.



Next we went to see the famous Pont D'Avignon. It is famous because it is half a bridge and because a song was written about it. It was not famous to either one of us though as we had never heard of it before we went.



It was inspired by Saint Benezet who was divinely chosen and proved so by lifting a heavy rock (or something). The bridge used to be a full bridge. Then it was not. Then it was again. Then it was not. This repeated a number of times until they finally gave up.

It became additionally famous by this song and frollicky dancing:


Now that will be in your head for at least a week even though you have no idea what the second line is.

We were there on a Sunday night so unfortunately most of the restaurants I had heard about were closed. We ended up in a cute little plaza at a place that served tartines and charcuterie plates.

The following morning we walked along the river and took funny pictures.



We didn't get a chance to do the tourist train that we had heard about. One it was a little pricey for what it was. And two, I decided it went slow enough that we could just walk alongside it and listen to the audio recording if we were really interested. Nevertheless, it's a very cute little train.



Avignon was a very nice little stop over. I found the town to have a very pleasant vibe and would be happy to go back, especially as a base to see other cities in the region. I would avoid Sunday nights however.

Dealing with Tourist Traps

As anybody that has travelled out here knows, tourist traps are all over the place. Some of them are easy to avoid (don't go to the restaurant on the main square that offers a "tourist menu" and provides pictures of all their menu items). But it's hard to avoid the beggars, panhandlers, and rose-sellers that approach everybody tourist looking and asking if they speak English. Ali has almost thrown a few punches when an ambitious "traveling vendor" thinks the best way to turn a "No, Grazie" into a sale is to shove his wares in her face and continue harassing her.

With that said, we've had a few more interesting and memorable experiences with these people.

Part I: Venice, September 1-4

Ali and I didn't exactly blend into Italy. We're much more conspicuous than the people walking around with Rick Steves and a fanny pack. But we still don't really look Italian and the constant Rainbow wearing is probably a dead give away. So we always get approached by people asking us if we speak English. Our usual response is to say "No" which of course they realize means we do because we understood their question. Either way, it's usually enough for them to get the idea that we aren't the best targets for them.

In Venice, we kept being approached by girls (probably late teens or early 20s) asking us if we spoke English. To me that's just a dead give away that something is amiss. This was early enough in the trip that I didn't just keep walking or ignore them. Many people know I have issues talking to anybody that talks to me. Ali loves it, especially when it's crazy people on public transportation. So in this case, I said yes, but kept walking. She tried to get me to stop by saying "Do you want to sign against drugs?" We kept walking, but that statement really confused me. What do you want me to sign exactly? What good would me signing something do? I'm not a registered voter in Italy? I don't think petitions have a whole lot of weight in Italy. So we kept walking, but the question intrigued/confused me.

So we saw these girls a number of times all over Venice as we were walking around and each time they were targeting tourists and asking if they spoke English. Finally, the 4th time we passed them my curiosity got the better of me and I asked what was going on. She said they were former drug addicts that were living in a halfway house in Venice (unlikely was my thought) and were asking people to sign to support them and then perhaps make a small donation. I told her good luck and walked away. I think Rule #1 is if somebody is only looking for English speakers, something is probably amiss. Apparently they did not think Italians would sign to support them? It was strange. Either way, "Do you want to sign against drugs?" is a question that will stick with me.

Part 2: Bologna, September 5

We were eating dinner our last night in Bologna when a rose vendor approached the table. You've seen these people everywhere. They offer any couple a rose. If the guy says no, they shove it towards the girl hoping she'll take it. If she says no, they place it in her face. Then Ali almost punches them. Sometimes they leave the rose on the table if you are eating and then come back later to ask for their payment. Apparently, some tactics work because there are always plenty of girls walking around with lone roses.

During our dinner at Trattoria Belfiore, three gentlemen selling roses approached us within two minutes of each other without knowing about the others. The last guy offered a rose to the table next to us which consisted of a couple and the girl's mother. They said "No, Grazie" and he approached us. We also replied "No, Grazie." At that time, he began raising his voice and saying something in Italian. The basic gist was that it was selfish of us not to buy roses and that it wasn't right that everybody was so polite when they said no instead agreeing to buy roses. Apparently realizing we didn't speak Italian and he wouldn't get very far with us, he went back to the table next to us and started berating them. Based on a few words and hand motions, the general points was: "Why is everybody so polite when they say no. You people sit here and say no, thank you. You're so polite about it. You sit here enjoying your meals. What about me? How are my children supposed to eat? How can you just sit here and be so polite saying no without worrying about how my children are supposed to eat?"

He didn't seem to have an ultimate point beyond how unfair things were, but that didn't stop him from yelling for about three minutes straight. Nobody from the restaurant seemed to mind and the family he was yelling at just sat there quietly. Finally, after a few minutes, and with no sign that he was going to slow down, Ali yelled out of nowhere "Basta! Arrividerci!" with a graceful brush of her hand. I think the guy was as surprised as I was and he mumbled a few more things and left. I was impressed.

Part III - Avignon, France

We had some time to kill in Avignon before catching our train. Ali wanted to go to the H&M and since the H&M was horribly designed and did not have any chairs, I went outside to sit in the shade. As I walked outside I was approached by a guy asking for something in French. As I usually do when French is spoken, I stared at him blankly. I could tell he was asking for something, so I began to walk away. Then he said in perfect English "I just need three cents for bus fare." The "I need X for bus fare" routine is common, but usually you ask for a little more than three cents. You gotta do a lot of volume to make anything three cents at a time. I told him I didn't think I had it, because I really didn't think I did. But I pulled out my change and found a couple of dimes. At that point he grabbed one of the dimes, and gave me seven cents change to get the three cents he originally needed. I expect that will be the only time I ever receive change from somebody asking for money on the street.