I returned to the north three weeks ago, and already the summer has faded for me. It's hard for it not to, since we tend to adapt quickly to new surroundings. The solstice is upon us, either today or tomorrow, and now, though it is noon, the shadows outside in the weak sunshine are long. This morning while I spent some time outside with the dogs, the sun felt strong and although the thermometer said it was 1°C, I didn't wear a jacket. Now it is filtered by some wispy clouds, and it feels much chillier. It is a stark contrast to the summer I spent in France - an entire month of strong sunshine, sweaty faces, excellent food and wine, and SPF 50. After all, I might be one of the whitest white people, ever.
One of many bell towers in Avignon. I do love the colour of the rock (sandstone, I believe, or a pink limestone), especially with sunset or sunrise shining on it.
Self, boiling hot, sweaty-faced atop the mountain (such as it is). It was really beautiful to see the view from up there - there was a natural rock formation that functioned as a sort of crow's nest, allowing the Pope to look over the entire region while remaining invisible himself. Natural ramparts and crenellations, even. 
From the top of the cliff staircase, looking over the vineyard of the Palais, the Pont across the Rhône, to the later dwelling of the Pope, of which I forget the name. 
Three of the four remaining arches of the Pont, with typical insane French traffic running under the fourth arch.
View from the foot of the Pont, the "new" chapel of which occupies the right of the frame. In the background, the cliff face that is also the back of the Palais des Papes, with a staircase carved into the rock.
I've spent time in France before, but this was the first time that I spent weeks traveling alone. I explored baking-hot Avignon during their annual arts festival. Avignon is dry, almost desert-like. The daytime temperature of 37°C was nearly unbearable to me, and I spent hours trying to hide from the sun while still exploring. Once the sun began to slip, I climbed up to the top of the Palais des Papes, looking out over the city, across the river, into the vineyard of the palace. I never knew that Avignon had been the seat of the Papacy for years before moving to Rome. In the morning, before the heat really started, I went for a run around the old city walls. Regretably, the city planners chose to make much of the space around the city a curved parking lot, which made my run less enjoyable. However, the run did take me past the cliff which the city wall followed - a natural landform that obviously influenced the placement of the old city. I ventured out onto the Pont d'Avignon, still strong and still standing, except where it was deliberately demolished after the city rebelled against the King centuries ago. The climate must have been much different then, as there are stories of people slipping off the icy bridge. I don't expect that Avignon sees many icy days anymore.
A portion of wall, blended with the natural cliff face.
After Avignon, I traveled back down to the Mediterranean Sea. I love the Mediterranean. It is my favourite body of water. I love how it is so arrogantly named, though I'd be fairly content to make it the centre of my earth. It is beautiful, full of history, it feels lovely to swim in, comfortable to lay beside... I think we will have a long and fulfilling relationship. I'll post more later.
No comments:
Post a Comment