Cont'd...

Avignon. Home to quite a bit of history; one of my favorite cities in the south. Around the time of the Black Plague, the seat of the papacy was moved from Italy to Avignon due to civil unrest. Only nine popes were housed at the Palais des papes during this time, but apparently this was enough to have the French build a palace and cathedral. The palace, the largest Gothic palace in Europe, was constructed in only four years (and this was during the height of the plague -- just imagine the number of deaths that are built into those walls).

I know all this, and a whole lot more, thanks to the enormously touristy and extremely informative self-guided tour the palace provided for about 7 euro. For three hours, I walked at an elderly pace from room to room in the Palais des papes, learning about what type of metals were used in the construction of the palace, how much money each pope spent on food and entertainment, how long the coronation ceremonies lasted (nine hours!), and about how, both in general and very specifically, each of the popes learned to become a master at what remains today as one of the world's most effective methods of crowd control -- which is why I love old religious structures. I have never seen such shameless and solid fixtures of insanity in my life.

And they're still making money! I hope the maintenance crew is paid well.

 Top: street view; cheesy shot through arrow slit in palace; the Grand Chapel in the palace; Pont de Saint Benezet.

Top: Palais des papes; map of Avignon made in 1525 (the city looks the same today).

I took a bus out to a nearby village across the river called Villeneuve-lez-Avignon. It too had some fantastically old buildings, like La Chartreuse du Val de Benediction, a monastery built during the 1350s, and Fort Saint-Andre, a Medieval military structure built around a 10^th-century abbey. These guys were not messing around.

Top: water reservoir at La Chartreuse; entranceway at La Chartreuse; view of Avignon from a distance; Fort Saint Andre.

Arles. Tiny, but rich -- the Romans were all over this place in their heyday, so there is an enormous amount of ancient Rome stamped on top of what is really just a simple Provencal city. Outside of Rome, I think that Arles has the most number of Roman structures and relics in the world. There is a fully-functional Roman arena in the center of the city (where Arles continues to hold its bullfights, a sickening but well-attended tradition), as well as a thermal Roman bath and a theatre. The Arles history museum contains the rest -- jugs, busts, mosaics, statues, tools, pipes, everything.

But despite the attractive history, Arles remains relatively unimpeded by tourism. It has managed to preserve a small-town feel, meaning that its aura is generally calm. (I'm comparing this to Aix, which essentially screams at you, demanding you to tell it that it's cute.)

All my good pictures of Arles have yet to be developed (I took them on my manual camera). Coming soon!

Salon-de-Provence. I went here by accident because I didn't have enough cash to get myself to Arles by bus. A rather pleasant accident, I suppose, but all I really wanted out of it was to make change from my 50 euro bill. I bought a toothbrush here.

Marseille. Take the density of midtown, blend it with the almost-kitchsy cuteness of the corner of Macdougal and Bleecker Streets, add the dirty-yet-festive atmosphere of an Astoria street fair, and put the whole mess on a Mediterranean seaport. Now throw in a bunch of North Africans, some extra garbage on the streets, and a few superb cathedrals, and you have Marseille.

Top: view of the city; eglise Notre Dame de-la-Garde.

I felt right at home. I might be jumping to a too-good conclusion on that one, but the vibe was right, the diversity of people and cuisine was fantastic, and its location is phenomenal. Take a bus 25 minutes to the south and you're in the calanques, a stretch of coast that offers stunning rock formations and hiking opportunities; take a bus or walk a bit to the southwest, and you have the beach. Awesome.

Incredible, all of it. The map is to give you an idea of close Marseille is to the calanques, and of how large the area actually is. In about half a day of serious hiking (and I mean climbing with both hands and feet at some points), I only managed to see Morgiou, Sugiton, and one of those pointy triangles that mean mountains.

Coast: Cassis, Le Ciotat, Toulon. I was lucky enough to be staying with a friend with a car (until it got towed, then broken into...), which enabled me to see parts of Provence I probably would have never been able to see. The coastal stretch between these three cities is stunning -- calanque-like, mountainous, Mediterranean flora. Cassis and Le Ciotat are rather small port cities, while Toulon is considered a somewhat major city in the area.Toulon, however, was probably my least favorite city on the trip. Albeit, I was only in it for a couple of hours, and at night, so I know I'm missing a few integral pieces here. But it was glitzy, almost Miami-like, with wide boulevards and palm trees lining the roads; it was practically bereft of people (and I'm not using that word lightly; some major town squares were completely empty) on a Saturday night. I don't know, it didn't seem very friendly. Whatever, it's technically not even part of Provence anyway. Pffft.

And in between all these daytrips, I jogged, explored, cooked, read, tasted, touched, smelled, wrote, and thought. Thought! I've never done so much thinking in my life -- The Grapes of Wrath was too big to fit in my bag along with my water bottle, guidebook, camera, and wallet, so I never brought it with me. But I did bring a pen! Gotta write down all them idears.