Because we live
in a teeny house (or as I may refer to it from now on; a bungalow) I had planned our itinerary to get us out and about as much as possible and to tucker everyone out.
Monday morning destination: Forcalquier Market.
Normally, the Monday morning market in Forcalquier is like a field of dreams for women visiting Provence. Not so for my mother and Aunt. I forgot they aren’t normal. They couldn’t have seemed more annoyed to be there, so after a quick lap, we left.
Heading to Avignon, we stopped by L’Isle sur la Sorgue for lunch.
Gold Star for Sara Louise.
They oohed and awed at the quaintness and beauty of the small village on the water.
I oohed and awed at the lemonade…
P – Sh*t… Now that’s refreshing.
After enjoying salads with goats cheese (give my aunt a salad topped with grilled goats cheese and she’s all yours) and the refreshing P – Sh*t, we continued on to Avignon.
Even though I’ve been to Avignon more times than I can count, this was my first time going as a tourist.
Since we had seen the bridge in the song, and visited Palais des Papes, my mother and I were itching to move on. We had places to go. We left my aunt and uncle to further explore Avignon, but we let The Husband come with us (we needed a driver).
Mecca was a mere 18km away. Or as it’s known in French; Châteauneuf-du-Pape.
(If you listen closely you can hear the angels sing)
Vineyards, wine shops, and degustations, oh my!
(I think I’ve found my new home)