Tuesday 3rd August
Sometimes the fates - or your husband - just conspire against you…the best laid plans of Mice and Men and all ( though what mice are doing making plans I haven’t the faintest idea.) On the way into Uzes Tony hit’s a BOULDER which was apparently hiding on the shoulder of the road waiting to spring out at him. The front tyre explodes and we’re stuck on perhaps the loneliest road in the whole of the South of France. I bite my tongue and don’t point out that he’s been driving too much on the verge - I know he feels pressured driving on the wrong side and in the Mercedes and this is just one of those things. But things aren’t helped when we discover there is no tool kit at all with the car! I tell him to ring Europcar but that would be too simple. Instead he walks around trying not to get into a foul mood ( he’s unsuccessful) and waiting for God or whoever to inflate the tyre or wind back time so that he can miss the rock ( though how he didn’t see it the first time is a miracle in itself!)
Fortunately a nice swiss couple stop to help…and then a Frenchman in a ute. Two cars in the one day on that road is practically a traffic jam. But at least they have tools and manage to put on the incredulously small spare which is meant as a temporary measure until we can get to Europcar - which is in Avignon - 50 kms or an hours drive away! Bang goes the swim and the horses as Tony wants me to come with him…it’s a chance for us to see Avignon….which wouldn’t be so impressive except that we have been to the town four times before and never seen a thing. Parking is a nightmare. So off we set….but Beloved’s mood is getting darker and darker - and when he says it’s my fault….WELLLLLL….I blow a tyre of my own. By the time we make Avignon, Europcar is closed for Lunch, naturally….if you plan on a big lunch and a couple of bottles of wine, French style, there’s not much point in keeping the business open. Just before Tony and I stop talking for the next four hours I ask him to drop us at the historic part of Avignon. He does so unceremoniously after driving round in circles - and then takes off, without any plans to pick us up again! Not that I entirely blame him. If only this stubborn man that I love would admit there IS such a thing as stress…and he has got it. Left alone, Phillipa and I wander through the ancient stone wall arches and back in time.
Avignon is an amazing city because so much of what is ancient is still intact….not just a roman ruin or amphitheatre, but a BIG city dating back to the 12th century. It was the home of the popes then - before The Vatican was ever conceived. We walk up the cobblestone streets to the palace of the Popes. It’s huge, and the cobbled forecourt seemed to be filled with peasants just as it must have been 800 years ago. This passage in religion makes a mockery of what the church purports to stand for. Here the popes kept their mistresses and illegitimate children, threw orgies and luxuriated in every penny they could bleed from the peasantry who saw the pageantry as a conduit to God. It’s both beautiful and revolting when taken in context….but it is special…there is no denying that. It’s around six stories tall and was built over a period of three hundred years when the church was at its strongest.
The bridge at Avignon….the one famous from our childhood, where everyone danced, only stretches halfway across the Rhone, but it costs a fortune to set foot on it. Despite the gob smacking history of it all, every monument is priced to fleece the tourists… 20 Euros to look round the palace….another 10 to step on the bridge.
We take it all in and sit in the shade and drink mineral water and wait for Tony to get over his mood, get the car fixed, and call us. After two hours we start to wonder if he will. We fill the time buying postcards and looking for a china Cicada that Kelly has requested….one she will like and that doesn’t have “A souvenir of Avignon” printed on it!
Finally the call comes and he picks us up. But the car isn’t fixed. Europcar insists only a Michelin tyre can go on the car…..and nowhere has any! Er, excuse me, but isn’t Michelin a French company??? The upshot is that a tyre depot has ordered one in but Tony will have to come back in the morning to have it fitted…another 100km round trip….and, because I didn’t take the “extras” insurance, we have to pay for it. We head back to Uzes…it’s hot and we’re tired and we haven’t eaten…..plans for dinner go out the window. Phillipa and I go to the pool for a long refreshing swim and to get the balance back into our day. Phillipa sunbakes and I enjoy the cool water. But Tony is still in his mood and opts not to come inside. When we finally come out he is sitting on a stone wall, fast asleep. I really do understand the pressure ( most of it self imposed) he is under and when he says “ sorry lovely, I’m just exhausted” my heart goes out to him. Once back home we eat up the remaining food in the fridge and Tony is fast asleep by nine o’clock….with Pip and I not far behind.
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