It's Me, Sara Louise

{Cobblestones strewn with rose petals in Gordes}

We awoke in Avignon to a perfect bright blue and sunny sky. But in the south of France, that beautiful, blue sky usually comes with a price, and that price is, the mistral.

Ever heard of it?

Dictionary.com defines it as; a strong, cold northwesterly wind that blows through the Rhône valley and southern France into the Mediterranean.For something more descriptive, there’s this post I wrote about it after being blown over by it for the first time.

Personally, I think Le Mistral wanted to show off for the tourists that weekend (I don’t know what was happening the weekend of the 14th of September, but Avignon was hopping) and show off it did.

The wind was whipped into a frenzy as we walked bent over, bodies slanted forward to try and keep balance. A tour of Le Palais des Papes was the perfect place to take shelter.

After touring the palace (two hours!), Eilo, Godmother, Miss Vicki and JoDelle were due to take the petit train tour of the city. It was noon and there was a train all set to go so they bought their tickets, took their seats and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

The petit train finally left one hour later. I’m pretty sure the driver wanted to eat his lunch first. Lunch is very important in France. But it would have been nice if someone had said that to the large group of people waiting on the train. Customer service… Qu’est-ce que c’est?

So that was Avignon… a feisty mistral, Le Palais des Papes, and a petit train tour. (Having been there done that, The Husband and I spent the time visiting Baby Cousin’s shop, window shopping, people watching and eating a kebab on a park bench. It was a good day.)

{Mean Girl Gordes}

Leaving Avignon, we headed east to Gordes.

How do I even begin to explain Gordes…

Gordes is flawless.

Gordes is one of le plus beaux villages de France (the most beautiful villages in France). It’s simply stunning. Perched perfectly atop the Plateau de Vaucluse, it shines golden and lovely, and makes The LPV feel bad about itself. If Gordes was a girl, Gordes would be Regina George.

And just like Regina George, Gordes might be beautiful on the outside, but it’s a capital B, little i t c h on the inside. To really explore Gordes you have to walk on ancient (re: unsafe) cobblestones at precarious angles. Up and down you go, praying that your ankle doesn’t snap, (for the record, I don’t think anyone ever snapped an ankle in The LPV), hoping that you don’t slip on a rose petal (they don’t roll out the red carpet in Gordes… they throw rose petals… whatever), grasping onto rock walls turned bannister for dear life and dodging tourists.

bisou

P.S. The LPV is not obsessed with Gordes.
P.P.S. Yesterday was Mean Girls Appreciation Day (get in loser, we’re going shopping)