Still workin out the kinks - Avignon

So the crew has assembled and we were ready to dominate Europe. Charlie and Dylan spent two days in London before meeting up in with me in Paris and had already set the tone for our trip. They claimed to have dominated London, imagine that, and were ready to do the same to every town we went to.

Over their 10 day stay we planned on visiting 7 cities.

I got up on Monday morning and took them to the bike shop and got them set up on the cruisers and would give them the ultimate tour of the city. Rambling off history to strangers everyday that could or couldn’t care less is one thing. Telling it to one of your best friends and brother is another. I will give it them though, they were more attentive than I thought they would be, probably because I’m such a damn good tour guide, but it was still different. You can’t really crack all the awesomely corny jokes that get giggles out of some crowds but on the same hand you don’t have to answer all the same questions and talk about the same stuff that goes along with tour guidin. It was awesome to show these guys what I had been up to for 3 months but at the same time it was great catch up with them and hear about their lives. We went o a few of my favorite spots for a good beer, picnics, dinner, and just cool places to hang out around the city.






After two gorgeous days in Paris riding around on bikes it was time to hit the rails. Graham has drawn up a pretty legit plan for our 5-6 week trip and Charlie and Dylan would be joining us for the first 5 days. We took off on Wednesday to go down to Avignon where we planned to go on a day tour of some wineries then get back on the train and stay in Nice for the night. Well, we came up a little short. No real trouble getting out of Paris this time but once we got to Avignon we learned one more of what I’m sure will be hundreds of valuable lessons. What Rick Steves says in his travel guide, though very helpful, doesn’t always apply to traveling in the offseason. Many of the wineries were closed or just too far (not actually in Avignon) to see during that day. So we decided to make the best of the situation and just try to go see one of the small local wineries. Another lesson learned had to do with the language barriers that lay ahead for us. In Paris, we were just starting to get the hang of French enough to get us around. We didn’t realize how valuable it was that most people in Paris can understand at least a little English and are used to tourist. Once you start hitting these little towns outside of the main touristy areas that is not the case. People in Avignon speak French. That’s it. We were still ok, but it would just take a little more concentration.

Keep in mind, every time we get off the train we have these massive backpacks to carry around. Not an excuse, just something to think about. So we take a bus for about 30 minutes to the closest winery outside of Avignon. Immediately, I have to go into the bakery to try and get directions from a lady. She pulls out a map and start throwing her arms this way and that and I am just consistently nodding my head like I know exactly whats going on. We start walking around the countryside up and down dirt roads in what I am still convinced was the right direction.







Unfortunately we just didn’t have the time to just keep hiking because we had to, first of all, find our way back to the bus stop and then catch the ONE bus of the afternoon back to Avignon so that we could catch our train to Nice. No problem with the first part. We retraced our steps back to the station perfectly and found the bus stop with 20 minutes to spare. However, it iurns out that busses in the smaller towns are not quite as dependable as they are in Paris. We wait for about an hour, just in case it really is running that late, then decide we might have a real problem here. We are stuck in a little village outside of a small town with no way back to Avignon where we have a train to catch. I walk into the post office and in the best French I can muster up, tell them the bus didn’t show up and ask how else I can get to Avignon. I asked if there was anyway to call or catch a taxi. Not lyin, this is what she says to me as best she can. “there was a taxi around the corner the other day but I don’t know if its still there.” I go back to break the news to the boys and it starts to set in that we might have hit our first serious road block on our little excursion. About this time I walk up the street to a small credit union to see if they can help and once again no taxi, no help. So I go into the bar next door. Not to start drinking, yet, but still seeking some help. There are about 15 old men sitting around drinking (at about 2:30) and one lady bartender. I had clearly found the one little dive in this town and at first it didn’t look very promising. I start talking to the bartender and luckily the one guy in the bar who can speak a little English hears me and comes to my rescue. I tell him my situation and he gets on the phone to call me a cab. He hangs up and looks at me and I get one of my favorite Euro sayings. “It is not pozzible.” So I ask what else I can possibly do to get back to Avignon in the next 2 hours. I told him I would pay someone for a ride. This was my money shot. He turns to his buddies in the bar and asks if anyone was going to Avignon that day and wanted to take us. It appeared that everyone in the bar had a drink of some kind of another but at this point I was desperate. The local carpenter comes up to me, a leather faced crusty old man, cigarette in hand and tells he to follow him, apparently he could take me. I think I must have forgotten to mention to him that I had three buddies and 150 lbs of baggage. He laughs at me and points to his truck/van hybrid and I give him the thumbs up. And this is what went down.




I think we were all a little worried about what might go down in hills here with these two strangers. Luckily there would be no haunting ringing of a banjo in the French countryside. Plus, I had decided we were alright because one; we were all pretty big guys and the two guys in front were older, like one in their 60’s, and smaller, and second; we had all his tools in the back with us. Nothing to worry about though. We got to the train station safe and sound with plenty of time to spare and the guys turned out to be extremely friendly and at first even tried to refuse my money but I insisted. This guy was crucial to our trip going on with a major hitch.