Back in the days of the 14th century, the Popes’ palace HQ was none other than Avignon.

They knew what was up. Who wants Rome, when you can have Southern France.

The world renowed Palais des Papes was naturally a must see. Being a 12 minute walk from fabulous Lumani, made it even more of a must see.

Now. I have to admit, I was feeling the time difference, the late nights, the early mornings, and the non stopness that we had become … I was always in motion, for fear of missing out on something amazing.

So I wasn’t really in the mood for a crowded sight seeing excursion, but not going to the PdP would be like not seeing the Eiffel Tower when in Paris. I knew, with my long standing fascination and love of history, I’d regret it.

On our beautiful, cobblestone street walk, I took this as a great sign:

 

NFW! Roman ruins from the first century!!

I couldn’t handle the history and the Romans and the French AND the Popes … History Channel, where were you when I needed you the most?

Directly across from these awesome ruins is the Palais des Papes. It’s suddenly there. Bam. Right in front of you. Almost like those dead Popes were looking down on you, ready to condemn anything ungodly.

In which case, I thought I better be on my extra good behavior. Which meant – no use of profanity inside the Popes’ digs.

I’ll openly say it — I mentally checked out once inside. Proof of this is in my lack of pictures.

Maybe it was the insane crowd. Maybe it was that hugely tacky phone you had to carry around and smash up against your ear if you wanted a “tour”. Or maybe it was just that I had seen one too many cathedrals and palaces and what nots.

Either way, 20 minutes in, and I was done.

It didn’t help that I was hot and hungry. The AC was sporadic, due to them setting up and getting ready for their big festival d’Avignon that was happening the next week. And, well, I happen to get hungry. Rather often. Look, Barry Sears was the one who told me to eat every three hours. Blame him.

Luckily, Maman isn’t too big on anything historic. She can take it or leave it. In this case, we were both ready to leave it.

That’s not to say it wasn’t incredible and had all sorts of positives and interesting aspects (like those secret hiding spots for the whips and chains – ooops. I mean money and valuables.) — it certainly did.

As I said, I had mentally checked out and everything was starting to blend into one large French history mush in my brain … all those overthrows, and this and that and kings and beheadings, and … what?

There was only one way out of the place, and it was a long, twisted haul out of there. Where were the Emergency Exits when you need them?

I did pause for a quick photo op in the courtyard. But unfortunately, my photo of me praying next to this statue got deleted. And Maman refused to take another one.

She said it appeared “too offensive” and people were staring.

I countered, that it was merely me showing the world prayer pose. She wasn’t buying it.

So much for my good behavior.

Here’s a shot of Lumani — from the charming, rejuvenating courtyard. Oh, that gorgeous Lavender that Provence is known for.

And here, sur le pont d’Avignon, is that magnificent bridge. With its very own song.