After a very early start to the morning, we arrived safely at Luton airport, our final destination, with all of our bags in tow (hurray!). Before we were to leave the airport however, we had an important task to complete – securing tickets to next years Glastonbury festival. This mission had to be a success at any cost, so we secured a corner of the coffee shop in the arrivals area and hunkered down. We set up our operations system which consisted of two iPads and two iPhones (ensuring they had a viable wifi connection..at least kind of..) and waited for the clock to strike 9am. And we were off! After goodness knows how many refreshes, clicks, swapping of devices and prayers it happened!!! Roisin had made it through to the confirmation page and with tears in her eyes and a squeal of glee (to the confusion and concern of most of the people sitting around us), Max and I inferred that the tickets were in the bag!

Our time in London was short but sweet. We managed to catch up with some friends and see some of the sights of London. We enjoyed some of the delicious food and live music (dancing along of course) that the Borough Markets has to offer. We enjoyed a final delicious dinner at Humble Grape and some wine with hints of fairy floss (yes really) while we discussed our best, worst and funniest moments of the trip. We even managed to squeeze in a karaoke session!

~~~

It was time to close the book on this amazing adventure. The three amigos, the tripod, the unlikely bunch of Physio friends who had made it through the best and worst of times together over the last (almost) seven years were now separating for the foreseeable future. It was a mix of emotions – excitement for what was coming next, relief to be able to relax for a moment and not run from one exciting monument to another, sadness to not be seeing each other everyday (and probably also a touch of relief on that one), amazement over all of the incredible and “once in a life time” experiences we had, joy over being able to experience them together and also confusion that we wouldn’t be aware of each others every movement every second of every day. Most of all, we created an incredible set of memories that I know I will look back on fondly for the rest of my life, and whenever we happen to get back together in the future, I know we will reminisce and laugh over our thousands of in-jokes, mishaps and adventures.

 

~~~ If in doubt AROM ~~~

 

After our whirlwind time in Paris, we were excited to have a few days in Amsterdam! I only have fond memories of my last visit to Amsterdam, wandering around admiring art and windmills and eating all of the cheese and pancakes we could muster.

We got of the train, admiring all the stunning canals and straight-from-a-travel-magazine  architecture, and dropped everything off at the hostel. Max decided to have a rest while Roisin and I went to meet up with Steph and Dave who happened to be crossing paths with us while on their Contiki tour! We met at HardRock Cafe, and spent the afternoon catching up, swapping travelling stories and laughing while we ate and then wandered the streets!

 

~~~

We decided to start our first full day in classic “us” style – with Sandeman’s New Amsterdam Free Tour!! Our engaging and enthusiastic tour guide took us from the National Monument in Dam Square, through the Red Light District and the Jewish Quarter, past the World’s first Stock Exchange, The Anne Frank House and Hidden Catholic churches and to the smallest house in Amsterdam! She was an American who had been living in Amsterdam for 11 years and she taught us the value to praying to the sun gods when you are living in this part of the world.. S.A.D. is a real thing as it turns out! She also made me fall in love with Amsterdam, and the Netherlands. She regaled us with stories about how the Netherlands is the only country in the western world where obesity rates are trending down, free water is available all over the city, children are NOT given any homework and are encouraged to “help” decide what is for dinner (which the kids on our tour LOVED) and how they deal with drugs in the city. She painted the Netherlands as quite a proactive and cannot just sit back and relax”.

After stopping at an adorable canal-side cafe for lunch, we decided to take a boat tour. Although most of the information we herd already received on our walking tour, this was a great way to see the city from the bottom up (and rest our feet for a while)!

After having a rest back at the hostel, we met up with Sinéad and Caitlin for dinner at a Mexican restaurant. It was a little out of the way from where we were staying, but it was well worth the effort and confusion from getting off on the wrong tram stop. It was a new little place, the waiters were hilarious, the food was delicious, there was hardly anyone else there and the cocktails were aplenty!

~~~

This morning we started with the Heineken Experience. We were not entirely sure how much we would like it. We had heard nothing but good reviews, but beer is not our favourite drink in the world.. However, we were not disappointed! The tour is set in their former brewery and was sensational! Interactive from start to finish, we were shown old photographs and state decorations Heineken family received, a famous gold medal from The Universal Exhibition in Paris in 1889, how to make the beer, impressive brass beer tanks and a quiet horse stable. The real fun started when you ‘become’ a beer by getting shaken up, sprayed with water and subjected to heat. I mean some parts seemed more for kids than anything else, but it was such a laugh and enjoying our free beer tastings (and some of the tasting left around by other people…) we left feeling more than a little bit tipsy.

 

We needed to grab some lunch before our walking tour – not only because it was lunch time, but because otherwise I don’t think I would have concentrated on a single thing she said with my beer hat on.

The Alternative Walking Tour was great and was more focussed on what made/makes Amsterdam a must-visit destination for people over the world. We learnt about the post-WWII housing crisis that began today’s current phenomenon of living in boats or in squats, the liberal laws, the counter-culture movements, why bicycles are an integral part of the city, the gentrification and urban development and saw some of the street art hidden in the city centre.

After the tour finished, we indulged in a fresh stroopwafel. These are the most delicious things!! Literally meaning “syrup waffle”, it is a waffle made from two thin layers of baked dough with a caramel-like syrup filling in the middle. Mmmmm

While Roisin ventured off for some cultural time at the Van Gogh museum, Max and I spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the Jordaan quarter – a former workers’ quarter. The area is now filled with cosy pubs, galleries and markets squashed into a grid of tiny lanes, and we enjoyed getting lost while window-shopping at all the quirky and unique shops.

Dinner tonight was at Ramen-Ya, a Japanese noodle bar. It was delicious, and we were having such a good time that we did not realise we were the only people left in the restaurant and the waiters were standing around waiting for us to leave.. oops!

~~~

Today was perhaps the day we were most excited about – it was cycling time! Two wheeling is simply a way of life in Amsterdam, so we hired our bikes and jumped on to see what all the fuss was about. Max was certainly the most confident and took the lead. We made our way out of town to find a windmill, back through town to the IAmsterdam sign (where we battled with about 3 million other people for a photo) and to Vondelpark – one of Amsterdam’s most magical places. We rolled through the sprawling, English-style gardens, with ponds, lawns, footbridges and winding footpaths. We found a quiet patch of grass and settled down to enjoy our picnic by one of the ponds. The cheese and fruit were divine, but my favourite part had to be the pigeon man. We had unknowingly sat ourselves near a chap who had decided to make himself one with the pigeons.. with bird food in abundance he lured them close (many chose to sat on him) and proceeded to talk to them. The only downside to this whole experience was when a small child, clearly fascinated by what was happening, slowly and quietly made his way up to the man and tried to engage with him and the birds. Even sat down next to him for awhile and watched in awe, chin in his hands. Pigeon man flat out ignored this poor child, and after a while, the child gave up and returned to his mother.

 With the food demolished, it was time to return our bikes. Unfortunately along the way I had forgotten some of the bike road rules and accidentally led the girls to ride on the wrong side of the road!!! We awkwardly had to cross the busy road, shooting many apologetic glances in all directions, and we managed to return our bikes, narrowly avoiding hitting any tourists/pedestrians along the way.

With a very early flight the next day (4.30am to London), we decided to enjoy some tasty burgers for dinner and reminisce about our travels before calling it a night!

Now before we begin, you must be warned, I am very partial to Paris. I love it. It stole my heart a very long time ago and it would be fair to say that my views and opinions are those of someone to whom Paris could probably do no wrong. It is an awe-inspiring, breath-taking, straight-out-of-a-movie city. Now don’t get me wrong, Paris has a gritty and dirty side. But it IS a capital city and as such it would also be unfair not to assume that Paris is ONLY a beautiful city. But if you ask me, the grit and dirty only serve to make Paris a more fascinating place. There is not too many places you can stroll along the Seine and see a grey haired man standing by the river, wearing a beret, painting a scene while eating a baguette… without a trace of irony…

As I have so many fond memories of Paris, I was feeling a bit nervous about taking the girls here (silly I know, what can you do?) because I really wanted them to like, if not love, it! To see a few different aspects of Paris and get a true feel of the city in the short space of time we had. Not only that, but there is so much one can do and see in Paris! Where to start? What to see? What to eat? What to drink? You would probably have to ask the girls themselves for an honest answer (and they would also probably tell you that I stress/think way too much about these inane things), but to me, they said Paris surprised them, in a good way. Despite the short burst, I think that in the very least, they liked it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We had arrived in Paris for our 36 hour whirlwind tour! We jumped off the train at Gare Lyon and made our way via the metro to our hostel – another St Christopher’s (I feel like we have been staying here a lot, but it is nice to have the assurance of a chain company where you know you will have breakfast, a comfy bed, power points and a safe place) and we passed an Ibis Hotel again on our way – we really felt like they were stalking us now! Once settled in (it took a while because we had a trainee on the check-in desk…cute…but I mean really, our packs ARE heavy) we headed on up to Sacre-Coeur to begin our love-affair with this beautiful city…

Some people poke fun at the unsubtle design of Sacré-Cœur, but no one can disagree with the view – a postcard perfect shot of the city. The area itself is more than just the basilica, from the musicians performing on the steps to the groups of friends picnicking on the hillside park and the bohemian lifestyle that surrounds it all. Touristy, yes. But who cares. You can take the funicular to the top, but we chose the stairs and a little boy raced us to the top (though to be honest he was the only one racing, much to the delight of his parents). I was shocked by the amount of security that was around. Apparently it was Paris fashion week, but there were so many uniformed and armed men, including a sniper. This was the first sign of the “increased security threat” that we had seen traveling around for the last few months, so I suppose you couldn’t say that was too bad. Still, a touch off-putting. We walked around the district, taking in the street art and street artists. I was so engrossed in the art that I almost got poked by a solider with the butt of a gun!! I mean really – he could have tried excusez-moi first… Luckily I have good friends who pulled me out of the way..

We made our way back down the hill via the winding streets, taking our time and popping into many cute and boutique type shops along the way. We found an adorable little restaurant and secured an open-window-seat table for a delicious dinner before we headed for an early night (had to prepare for our crazy day tomorrow!!).

Up bright and early, Roisin and Max headed out to see the Catacombs – the underground tunnels lined with skulls and bones. In 1785 it was decided to rectify the hygiene problems of Paris’ overflowing cemeteries by exhuming the bones and storing them in disused quarry tunnels and the Catacombes were created in 1810 (fun fact – during WWII these tunnels were used as a headquarters by the Resistance). Unfortunately the crowds were HUGE and as the let a maximum of 200 people in at a time, the wait was going to be 2 hours. So the girls trudged back to the hostel and we our started self-guided tour of Paris.

No prize if you can guess where we started. No one could imagine Paris today without it. The 320m-tall signature spire created as a temporary exhibit for the 1889 World’s Fair, the Eiffel Tower. No matter what your opinions are about how it looks, I don’t think you can help but marvel at the grandeur of it all. We took the lift up to all three floors, with Rosh dying a little bit more with ever floor. To be honest this was one of the first times we saw her fear in full flight and she was not a happy lass!! Good thing we didn’t need to show our tickets again, because she had sweated through hers on the elevator ride!!!

It was such a picture perfect day and with the blue skies you could see for miles!! After we had a taken a few snaps and soaked up the view, we headed down the tower and after a typical touristy photo shoot in front of the Eiffel Tower, we bought some crepes and fairy floss to calm our nerves.

We walked across the Seine river and headed to our next stop on the tour – the Arc de Triomphe de l’Étoile. If anything rivals the Eiffel Tower as the symbol of Paris, it’s this magnificent 1836 monument to Napoléon’s victory at Austerlitz (1805). We spent a few moments marvelling at the traffic-chocked roundabout (commenting on how we would never, not in a million years, want to drive in this particular spot in France) before we took the stairs leading under the Champs-Élysées. We took our time admiring all the detail of this arch and the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier that lies beneath and honours the 1.3 million French soldiers who lost their lives in WWI.

We also spent a bit of time commenting on the creative positions one particular Asian mum was getting into to the that “perfect shot” of her two kids – she certainly knew how to get low and was squatting, twisting and tilting all at once. Anything for that insta-worthy pic!

We made our way down to the Jardin des Tuileries, dancing our way down the Champs-Élysées (“The champs-elysees is a busy street; We getting down with everyone we meet; If you understand, then listen to me; Si’l vous plait ma cherie allez tombez la chemise!”). We stopped to gawk at all the clothes, jewellery and bags we could not afford, as well as stop into Ladurée to smell all the macaroons and delicious little cakes!

We spent a bit of time getting lost in the garden itself, filled with fountains, ponds and sculptures, it really is a lovely place on a sunny day. We made sure we stopped to smell the roses and took some time to sit, people watch and rest our feet in front of one of the giant fountains.

Once we made our way out of the maze we found ourselves at the Musée du Louvre. Few art galleries are as prized or daunting as this is, after all, one of the world’s largest and most diverse museums. Showcasing 35,000 works of art – from Mesopotamian, Egyptian and Greek antiquities to masterpieces by artists such as da Vinci, Michelangelo and Rembrandt. I myself, have spent countless hours here on three or four occasions (yes, I have been very fortunate) and would not even dare to say I have seen it all. Today however, we merely marvelled at the building itself. The sheer size of it is enough to make you pause, let alone the 21m-high glass Grande Pyramide that is the main entrance!

 

We walked away from the Louvre and walked further down the Seine, crossing one of the many bridges covered with love-locks and ending up on the Île de la Cité. A few short minutes later we rounded the corner and locked eyes on our final destination on the tour – Cathédrale Notre Dame. I love this masterpiece of French Gothic architecture. The rose windows, treasury and bell towers mixed with the gargoyles and hoards of people make for the perfect combination of touristy bliss. We decided not to wait in the longest line imaginable, so instead of going inside, Max and I tried to re-enact scenes of The Hunchback of Notre-Dame! Best. Day. Ever.

With the tour officially over, it was time for food!!! I wanted to take the girls somewhere delicious for their last French meal and as neither of them had tried soufflés before, I thought where better to experience the ultimate soufflé than in Paris? So mysterious, sexy and oh so French. After a little googling, I found La Récamier. This soufflé- specific restaurant, on a small side street covered with greenery in the 7th arrondissement, has made it their mission to serve the lightest, airiest, most flavorful soufflés that you’ll ever eat. We were starving by the time we arrived, but there was literally no one else in the restaurant. Thankfully they were open (we were just early, which turned out to be a good thing because they were all booked up later in the evening) and the maitre d’ offered us an ideal location on the covered terrace. We studied and discussed the menu carefully before ordering, having to google many of the words…. We ordered a bottle of wine, some foie gras to start, a main and dessert soufflé each. Sipping our wine, we tasted each item and agreed that they were all delicious. I say again. Best. Day. Ever.

Until next time …

This morning I ventured to the Nice airport to drop off our much loved car – Vicky. Surprisingly, this may have been the easiest part of the road trip! I was in and out in around a minute and on a bus back to Nice before I knew what was happening!

Back at the hotel, Roisin and I had decided to go for a little explore around Nice and Max was going to had a “me” day and see Nice while going for a run (ew 😉 ).

We found a funny little cafe where we grabbed some brunch before making out way into the old town. The narrow, winding streets (which have barely changed since the 1700’s) were packed with delis, restaurants, boutiques and bars, not to mention the locals buzzing around. You could really imagine this place permanently thronging in summer. We strolled along, making our way up to Parc du Château.

Parc du Château is the city’s original site, once boasting a reputedly impregnable citadel that was entirely dismantled by the soldiers of the French King Louis XIV in 1706. Only the 16th-century Tour Bellanda remains. We made our way up the steep steps through a maze of greenery and undergrowth until we came across a surprising waterfall! It was so random and unexpected that it made it all the better!! We walked on through all the greenery and shady trees, until we can to the highest viewpoint in the park. It was a glorious day and we were granted a wealth of stunning views over the old town’s red-tiled rooftops, the port and inland to the Provençal hills all the way to the Alps.

It was starting to get late, so after we had enjoyed listening to some random reggae-style music in the park, we headed back to our hotel along the most famous stretch of seafront in Nice – if not France – the Promenade des Anglais. Named for the English expat patrons who paid for it in 1822, it runs for the whole 4km sweep of the Baie des Anges with a dedicated lane for cyclists and skaters (we nearly got knocked off our feet once or twice). We spent a bit of time reading, and being moved by, the memorials from the Nice attack earlier in the year.

 

With the road trip over, I must say that it was definitely one of my favourite parts of the trip so far! Not only did we have freedom of a car but Provence was simply spectacular. From the olive groves, vineyards, Mediterranean pine forests, lavender fields to the limestone massifs of the Alpine foothills, flowing rivers and pebble beaches, the region is nothing if not diverse. I also learnt many things on our road trip – including how difficult it is to be both a driver, and a passenger when driving for the first time on the other side of the road. Signs we didn’t understand, advice that we didn’t quite understand (like keeping your shoulder to the line), directions that didn’t make any sense and soooooo many round-a-bouts. But I also learnt that despite a few ups and downs, as a trio, we are a pretty indestructible group of friends.

Today was one crazy whirl-wind of a day! We had decided to concur 3 countries in one day! Why? For no other reason than, why not?

We started bright and early, because today was the AFL Grand Final – Swans vs Doggies – sure to be an excellent game! Roisin and Max had found a pub in town that was showing the match (after much googling) and headed off in the wee hours. They had an excellent time by all reports (once they managed to get inside) with beers, chocolate croissants and even a smattering of other people 😉 . I had decided to stay in bed a bit longer and watched the game online while speaking to Mum and Dad on the phone, who were in Italy listening to the match on the radio! After the Doggies took home the cup, and a few tears over the respective win, loss and speeches, the girls headed back to the hotel and we set off on our ambitious day.

First we tried to visit Èze – one of the most well known and visited hilltop towns in the south of France, especially popular for its spectacular coastal views. I say tried because once again we could not park to save our lives. It was just SO busy, we ended up trying to drive up into the town a little bit but alas, some lovely hotel parking guys told us that only residents were allowed to drive up here. So along with loads of other cars, we headed back down. We tried our luck in many different car parks and ended up pulling over and parking a distance away from Èze and started to walk in. We decided that the parking spot we had chosen may not have been totally legitimate and headed back to the car a bit deflated.

We headed on up the coastal road to try our luck at the micro-nation Monaco (to see how the other half lived). Anticipating the potential parking problem happening again, we stopped off early (before we even reached the boarder of Monaco). We made the walk into town and became very excited as we crossed the boarder (which was nothing but a pair on lines on the ground – very secure)!! But wouldn’t you know it? As we came across the car parks we found that there was looooads of free parking spaces. Like thousands. Hahaha just our luck!

What can I say about Monaco? Squeezed into just 2.8 sq km, this constitutional monarchy might be the world’s second-smallest country, but what it lacks in size it makes up for in attitude. A magnet for high-rollers since the early 20th century, it’s also one of the world’s most notorious tax havens (residents pay no income tax). With luxury yachts, Russian oligarchs, James Bond films, spotless sidewalks, palaces, the famous casino, race-car drivers and all kinds of over-the-top wealth on display, it certainly is an interesting stop!

We started in the small historic quarter (Monaco-Ville), a veritable open air museum,  with the Prince’s Palace, and beautiful views around every corner. After exploring the streets and eating a delicious serve of pasta and red wine (loving our wines on this road trip!!!) for lunch we headed down towards the marina. This part of town is a long way from the pretties that we have seen on our adventures: it’s basically high-rise hotels and apartment blocks, made of concrete and glass. But never-the-less, we had a great time, even managing to stumble across a “yacht show” where people dressed MUCH fancier than us were seeing the newest designs of boats for the next season. Yes. Really. We walked for a while, admiring the beauty and size of some of these machines and daydreaming about how we might one day find ourselves on one of these beasts… basically someone is going to have to find and marry a millionaire.. With solid future plans to bag a rich husband agreed upon, we headed back to the car. We only managed to get lost twice in the utterly bewildering street layout that seems solely designed to confound lowly pedestrians.

Menton – situated between Monaco and the Italian Riviera, beautifully elegant with fine foods, gardens, nearby ski slopes and almost endless sunshine. Lucky for us, our time in Menton was some of the rarely experienced dark and dreary weather. We drove through the maze of narrow medieval lanes to a beautiful view over the town before we headed back down to wander the streets of the sprawling historic centre ville and along the old harbour.

 

 

Fifty kilometres east of Europe‘s premier gambling capital lies our last stop, and third country for the day, San Remo. This sun-dappled Italian resort with a casino, a clutch of villas and lashings of Riviera-style grandeur is known colloquially as the City of Flowers for its colourful summer blooms. San Remo also stages an annual music festival (the supposed inspiration for the Eurovision Song Contest) and the world’s longest professional one-day cycling race. Our afternoon was spent beyond the manicured lawns and belle époque hotels, in the little old town centre. We spent hours in the labyrinth of twisting lanes that cascade down the hillside, looking for somewhere lovely for dinner. We stopped in a cute side street at a bar for an apéritif before heading across the road to an adorable little restaurant for dinner (although we had accidentally filled up with our apéritif). We enjoyed a beautiful last night of our road trip. While the sun was setting on the Italian rivera and we were eating out pizza and pasta, we started reminiscing about the hundreds of times we had got lost, all the thing had gone wrong, the thousands of roundabouts we had taken and the millions of laughs we had shared.

We headed off early to catch a boat to Île de Porquerolles, one the three Îles d’Or (golden islands). Unfortunately, in classic us style, it was not the “easy drive to the port” that we had hoped it would be. We drove around in circles for a little while (mind you we were following Vicky’s navigation, so not entirely our fault) and may have done 1 or 2 laps of a roundabout before landing at the port. We grabbed our things and headed down to the boat. With our tickets in hand we headed down to the gangway. Except that Roisin did not actually have her ticket. We stopped and pulled apart her wallet, rifling through recipts and old tickets, but no such luck! I traced our 5-10 steps back to the ticket desk and there it was – casually sitting right there on the counter!

After a short 10-minute boat ride, we arrived at the crescent-shaped island of Porquerolles. A croissant and hot chocolate later and it was time to explore. We initially wanted to hire a bike and cycle around, but when we saw how much they cost, we opted for walking and more time relaxing on the beach! As we made our way to one of the marked beaches, we couldn’t help but notice all the pine and eucalyptus trees. No home-sickness for us! We found a secluded spot on the beach with both sun and shade and headed towards the stunning, sparkling water.

We decided to finish our visit with a stroll around the northern part of island. We did not get a chance to make it to the southern side, where the coast is made of steep cliffs and secluded creeks only accessible to hikers (we’ll have to go next time). With the amount of people we saw bike riding, windsurfing, swimming and stand-up paddle boarding, I can only imagine how busy this little place would get in the peak summer season! We grabbed a crepe/sandwich for lunch before jumping back on the ferry to Hyères.

We were happily gushing over the serenity of the island, until we attempted to pay for our parking. We rocked up to the pay station and Roisin opened her wallet to pull out the parking ticket .. that wasn’t there. We pulled EVERYTHING out of her wallet and yet, nothing. There was nobody around to ask for help. No-one was answering the “help” button on the machine. We all started freaking out a little bit when we noticed that the cost of parking, if you have lost your ticket, was €150! Then we remembered that we had thrown out things when looking for Roisin’s boat ticket. Max and Roisin ran back to the kiosk to see if the could rummage through a bin, while I waited at the machine to see if anyone would show up or answer the help button. After what seemed like a millennium, the girls came back in a flurry! They had found the ticket! Thankfully the bin they had to riffle through was a paper only bin. Things had become a bit frustrated/heated when they found the ticket, with Roisin exclaiming “I knew we would find it”, and Max replying “did you, did you really? Or did you just hope that we would find it? I mean honestly, how can so many things go wrong on one trip??? Surely we have had more than our share.”. We all understood and agreed with this sentiment. I mean really. We will look back and laugh about this, I’m sure….

Once we had relaxed, we headed toward all the glitz and glamour of St Tropez. Unfortunately after circling the town for about 45 minutes trying to find a car park, we decided to pack in it and head to our next destination, but we still saw some of the Vieux Port, yachts like spaceships, fancy restaurants, all manner of $$$$$$ cars, high-end shops and an infinite number of tourists. On the way out of town we even stumbled upon some sort of crowd and commotion (mind you, this was while we were driving down streets that really did not feel like they were meant for cars…we were awfully close to people and shops). No way of telling what or who was causing such a ruckus, but you could certainly sense the hype, everyone with their phones out – snapping photos!!

We drove along the mediterranean shoreline until we reached Sainte Maxime – a seaside town named after a nun who died in 750. No prize for anyone who guesses why we picked this town, with the name closely resembling Maxine’s ;). We spent a lovely time walking along the shops, markets, restaurants, bars and cafés that were opposite the harbour while enjoying some delicious gelato.

We had decided to head to Cannes for dinner (it’s a tough life). I found the town quite a lovely mix of glitz and old-world pretty. We spent a bit of time walking up and down the hilly streets, past couture shops and fancy restaurants, avoiding the invitations of waiters left, right and centre until we decided to head to L’epicurieu for our meal. It was a rather funny evening in the end. The restaurant was very full, so we sat outside on a table designed for two. Now we did not really think this would be an issue, however the waiters seemed more than a little concerned. We soon found out why, as they brought out our water, wine, bread, condiments and finally our meals. We ended up using the concrete edging of a public garden bed next to our table to rest some things on!! Then two poor ladies sitting near us smashed an almost completely full bottle of red wine on the ground. Such a shame, but they still giggled away the rest of the night! The waiters were lovely and the food was delicious, an evening only made better by the funny atmosphere.

This morning we finally got a chance to explore the charming town of Saint-Remy de Provence (so far we had really only appreciated its sleepy night-time charm). We had an amazing morning strolling along the cobbled boulevards, under the shade of century-old trees, wander around the narrow little streets, discovering squares and fountains. We took full advantage of its beauty and the quiet morning atmosphere, and had ourselves a mini photoshoot.

We said goodbye to this charming town and headed off to the The Gorges du Verdon or, as it is sometimes called, The Grand Canyon of Europe. Over millions of years, the Verdon and Jabron Rivers have carved deep valleys in the limestone plateau, all the way to the foothills of the Alps. The drive itself was nothing short of stunning, so we were not really sure what to expect when we actually arrived.

We started with a spectacular road trip round the rim of the gorge (mostly by accident). We climbed higher and higher up winding, narrow roads, next to sheer, plunging cliffs (in some places 700m high). As we climbed, the view just continued to get better until we saw the turquoise blue water. No words or pictures could do that view justice. We simply had to pull over to take it all in. We climbed higher and stopped at the next few vantage points. Only from here could we get a proper sense of the brain-googling size of the gorge.

We decided to drive back down and stop at Lac de Sainte-Croix. Right at the beginning of the Verdon Gorge. We pulled out our packed lunch and enjoyed a delicious picnic before finally enjoying the experience of swimming. The only worry we had was deciding whether the water was fresh or cold (our code for water temperatures was becoming finely tuned, despite the fact that we could never actually agree). I would honestly say this is one of the must-see natural wonders of France.

Our experience of the gorge was only made more special by the people we met, or watched from a distance (less creepy than it sounds, I promise. We met the most lovely lady who was playing in the water with her dog (and absolutely loving it) but my favourite people where three ladies who seemed to be in their 60s maybe? I am terrible with ages. However, we instantly saw ourselves in them from their actions. One (Roisin’s match) was the first to jump in the water, splashing around, last out of the water and then the most covered up when they went to sit back on the beach. The second (Max’s match) was very tentative getting in the water, splashing her arms and body before getting in and then lapping up all the sun once on the beach. The third (my match) was somewhere in the middle and taking photos. The best part of all was that they seemed to be having a ball together – we hoped aloud that we would be laughing, holidaying and playing together when we get to their age (whatever age that may be).

 

When we finally mustered up enough enthusiasm to leave this picture-perfect spot, we jumped back in the car and made our way to Hyères to spend the night. It was Max’s turn to take the drivers seat, and I am sure you can tell from the picture below that she hated every moment.  She did an amazing job, especially when we ended up on a single lane bridge with a car racing towards us, with the driver looking aggressive! Even as we were reversing, he kept coming closer and closer. Max kept her cool, and was a champion reverser while Roisin and I exclaimed over and over how weirdly aggressive the other driver was being…

We arrived in Hyères (and at our Ibis hotel – yay we love Ibis) and settled in. We had really only chosen to stay here because of the proximity to the island of Porquerolles, but I really enjoyed our walk around the medieval Vieille Ville (Old Town). We managed to see more of the city walls, lovely architecture and narrow streets than we had planned because we could not find the restaurant we wanted to eat at. Then we discovered it was take-away only. Still, the cute town helped settled our rumbling tummies as we made our way back to a restaurant we had spotted earlier. Eating at Pizzeria Napoli ended up being a blessing in disguise. The food was delicious, soooo cheap, the service was excellent and the lovely chefs even divided up our two pizzas onto three plates – easiest sharing experience ever!!

Today started with a round of chocolate croissants from a local bakery that were simply delicious (and some store-bought orange juice). With our bellies full of happiness we made the journey back to Baux de Provence, this time to the Carrières de Lumières, a former limestone quarry. The unusual and unique space is now used for art-based multimedia shows. We were lucky enough see Chagall: songes d’une nuit d’été (Chagall: Midsummer Nghts’ Dreams), in which a myriad of Marc Chagall’s art was projected onto the immense walls, pillars and floor of the Carrières all set to music.

The second show was apparently for kids, called Au pays d’Alice (Alice’s Land), but I loved it just as much! We were taken down a tunnel by a little white rabbit on a journey into a wonderful world, inspired by Lewis Carroll’s novel. It’s sort of difficult to describe how it feels to be literally surrounded, by and immersed into, someones art (the 100 video projectors and 27 speakers make that possible). It truly was a remarkable experience.

Once we could peel our eyes away from the limestone artwork, we started our drive to Abby Notre-Dame de Sénanque, a working monastery with a rich history and magnificent architecture. As we were driving up to the Abbey, we couldn’t help but comment on how stunning the valley was. We also couldn’t help but comment on how tricky it was to actually find this abbey!! Our navigation system seemed to have thought we had arrived long before we actually had, which lead us onto a high and narrow winding road, with no way of turning back if it did happen to lead the wrong way! There was also nothing, after the initial turn off, in the way of signage for the abbey. It almost seemed as if the monastery was deliberately making it difficult for tourists (there probably is an element of truth to this, keeping some peace and quiet for the monks), but to be honest, when we arrived I was kind of glad they do! It added an extra air of mystery and serenity to the place. We could not go inside the abbey (the only way inside is to take a guided tour, and these were full), but we were content to just take our time walking around, admiring the lavender fields (unfortunately not in bloom 😦 ) and beautiful grey stone work. The only real downside was that I lost my earring for about 20 minutes (a very stressful 20 minutes.. ). It got caught and came off as I pulled the strap of my camera off my neck. Thankfully I have the loveliest of friends who did not mind helping me look for a glint of blue amidst an infinite amount of rocks.

We headed back up the valley on a different, yet equally as narrow and windy road to the hilltop village of Gordes. Built on the foothills of the Monts of Vaucluse, facing the Luberon, the houses and buildings of white stone root themselves into the sharp cliff of the mountain. As we neared, it was easy to see why this is considered one of the most beautiful villages in France! This gorgeous town literally blew my mind when I saw it, and labyrthinth of “calades” (narrow cobblestone streets) only added to its charm. We enjoyed a lovely lunch and soaked up some incredible views before heading back to the car.

On our way out of Gordes, we drove past some of the buildings in the stony Bories Village – constructed entirely of dry stone walls!

Our next stop was Aix-en-provence. Now there is reportedly loads of things to do in this university city: boutique shops, fabulous cafes, delicious restaurants, museums, open-air markets… But we had one goal in mind. The library. Why you ask? Because apparently, they have giant books (it’s the little things in life right?)!! Now we thought it would probably be easy to find these giant books, but turns out not so much (or maybe it was just that “road-trip-luck” we kept seeming to find…). We ended up walking around the outsides of building with seemingly no entrance in sight, entering through a car park with a towering metal fences and a gait that closed behind us (maybe this was not where we were supposed to enter?), trying to not look suspicious as we stalked around side entrances, found some disappointing large books (not the ones we were looking for) and had almost given up hope (also where were all the other people roaming around this “library”?) until we rounded a corner and saw what we had been looking for!! Le Petit Prince!! We took our photos and concluded there must be an easier way to leave than the way we came in, so we walked straight ahead and found ourselves amidst loads of people milling around.. We just seem to prefer the path less traveled right?

Now we did manage to appreciate some of the leafy boulevards, public squares, 17th- and 18th-century mansions with wooden shutters and gurgling moss-covered fountains en route to and from the library, but the giant books are what I will remember ;).

Our final destination of the day was Marseille. Now, for the most part, this huge port city tends to get a bad wrap. I won’t lie – it’s probably never going to make my top ten – but while it was gritty, and there did seem to be a few sketchy looking people floating around, it also seemed like an edgy and bustling place. We parked the car and headed to the Vieux Port (old port), where ships have docked for more than 26 centuries, and walked along the waterfront as the sun began to set. We then walked around the town, admiring some of the old architecture, until we found a place for dinner. The address for the restaurant we originally tried to find led us to the train station…so we scrapped that idea… We ended up at a quirky little restaurant/bar called Bistrot l’Horloge. The food was nice, the service was good, the waiters were attractive, the decor was weird and wacky and it was packed with locals! What more could you want? Well.. gelato.. but we managed to get that on the way home too!

Making our way out of Marseille was another matter entirely. The roads were packed full of cars, there was a million times that Vicky (our car, we named her) told us at bear right or left when she really meant turn, we were tooted and whistled at (from other cars mind you1!!) and there was a whole array of one way streets, odd traffic light combinations and tunnels!! But we lived to tell that tale and can laugh looking back on it. So in the end, maybe that’s all you want?

We woke up this morning knowing one thing was certain – today HAD to be better than yesterday. After a French/English phone call that went miles better than I had feared (don’t they always?), we set off for our first town of the day – Arles.

Arles is the largest city in France, but you wouldn’t necessarily feel that way while there (I know I didn’t!). The first thing that struck me about this city was its simply beauty – the shady squares, colourful sun-baked houses (Arles boasts 300 days of sunshine a year) and the Rhône river running right through it. Our first stop was breakfast! We found a cute little cafe and enjoyed our first official French croissant of the trip while the waited entertained us with his polite and strange mannerisms and we speculated over the matador memorabilia all over the walls. We were about to leave the cafe when we were stopped by a lady asking us where in Australia we were from (is is that obvious 😉 ?). She proceeded to give us lots of little tips of places to go and things to see in the South of France (and some driving tips too I might add, though I am not entirely sure we found the driving tips as useful). I do think travelling really makes you notice the kindness of strangers.

We did not have that much time to explore Arles bigger tourist sites, like the Roman amphitheatre Les Arènes, however we did manage to pop into the garden where Vincent Van Gogh painted The Asylum Garden at Arles, 1889.

We rushed back to Saint Remy to meet the owner of the AirBnB. Turns out, both the apartment and the owner were lovely! He had arranged for the door to be fixed and a new key to be made, as well as offering us to stay another night so that we would still have two nights like originally planned. We were thrilled.  After we got our bags and unpacked/settled in a tad (made some phone calls back home so that everyone knew we had someplace to sleep) we headed off for lunch. The restaurant we had hoped to go to was closed (looks like we had found a dinner option at least) so we ate at the next one alone which had HUGE portions. We enjoyed a salad, pasta and croque monsieur before heading back on the road to Avignon – another beautiful walled city with a rich culture and history that is also set on the Rhône river.

For 70-odd years of the early 1300s, the Provençal town of Avignon served as the centre of the Roman Catholic world, and though its stint as the seat of papal power only lasted a few decades, it’s been left with an impressive legacy of ecclesiastical architecture, most notably the soaring, World Heritage–listed fortress-cum-palace known as the Palais des Papes. This was our first stop (after we found a car park.. parking in these places is becoming somewhat of a laughing matter).

After soaking up the history in the cavernous halls, chapels and antechambers (with the aid of our audioguides, as most of the rooms were largely bare) we explored the towns boutique-lined streets and leafy squares, making out way to the Pont d’Avignon. Anyone remember the children’s song ‘Sur le pont d’Avignon’ (On the Bridge of Avignon)?

DCIM100GOPROG2402928.

It’s official name is Pont St-Bénezet who, we learnt with our included audio guides, had three saintly visions urging him to build a bridge across the Rhône. Completed initially in 1185, it unfortunately had a tendency to collapse every time the Rhône flooded and was abandoned in the 1600s.

Lastly we decided to head to Château des Baux – one of the recommendations from the Australian lady we had met earlier in the day. Even though the castle itself was closed by the time we arrived, we still had enough time to explore the medieval village of Les Baux de Provence and watch an incredible sunset with panoramic views over the Alpilles.

After a stunning photo shoot, that due to the height of it all had Roisin with her stomach in her mouth, we headed back to Saint Remy for a delicious dinner at Gus Restaurant (and an early night 😉 ).

Today was 100% the worst day of the trip (not including the days where we were individually incredibly sick, because I can promise that on those days, we each would have been grateful if the world had opened up and swallowed us whole). Or, if you prefer, it was the best example of a series of unfortunate events that I could imagine. But I hope that in writing it down it will be like a form of therapy. Let’s start at the very beginning…

It was the evening before we were to start our road trip. We were excited but buggered, we were starting to run a bit low on money and we were not entirely sure how to get to the airport to hire our car. Nor had we organised where we were sleeping the next few nights/exactly what the destinations of our road trip would be. After a bulk planning session, we had booked the first nights accomodation and had a rough idea of the places we wanted to see. Next we started trying to figure out how to get to the airport which, as it turns out, is not the easiest/cheapest thing to do in Lyon. In our haze of information/planning/fatigue/packing we (stupidly really, looking back on it) decided that Max and myself would go on the train to the airport and Roisin would stay at the hotel to save on money and then we would come back and pick her and all of our bags up.

When we woke the next morning there was a disagreement about whether or not we should actually all go to the airport (our first real disagreement I would say, so in fairness that’s a pretty good run). You see the entire reason we had decided to hire the car from the airport was so that we did not have to fret over driving in a big city like Lyon straight off the bat. But now we would have to come back into town to get Roisin and all of our bags! But alas, it was a rather pointless disagreement as Roisin had only just woken up and had not packed anything yet (see above decision of her staying longer in the hotel to do such things). Max and I left the hotel in a bit of a confused/sleepy huff and headed off to the train station. Walking through the station we noticed that there was a Hertz rental kiosk right here ! We thought – hooray, this is the best of luck! However, they had not a single spare vehicle in their fleet, so we headed out to find the airport train. Turns out that it was a bus, not a train on this particular day, and that if we caught the bus we would then have to catch another bus to get out to the actual car rental area and that this bus was not running super regularly today. Max and I were becoming quite frustrated at this point (and hungry – we had not eaten breakfast yet), I made the executive decision to catch a taxi (so much for saving money by only two of us going to the airport). The taxi driver seemed more than a little confused as to why two young girls wanted to go to the airport without even the hint of a bag with them, but in the end he understood enough of my French to take us exactly where we needed to go, things were looking up! Or so we thought…

Hiring the car turned out to be a disaster (which was totally my fault). I could not find my credit card the night before or that morning and so I had my credit/debit card with me and hoped that would be enough. The lady behind the counter was nice enough, but when she saw my card she was less than impressed. I explained that it was credit/debit and functions as a credit card. She pulled out her list of accepted cards and started to shake her head. The clerks on either side of her both tried to tell her the card was fine, but she was having none of it. She jumped on the phone for about twenty minutes until she was finally convinced she could give us the car! Thank-goodness, because otherwise the only option was making a brand new booking with Max and as she was under 25 it would have been miles more expensive.  We sighed a big sigh of relief and headed out to our new set of wheels!! She was beautiful. A shiny, black Renault Captur. We oohed and aahed at all the buttons and I started to drive out of  the airport as Max started to put the hotel address into the navigation system. Low and behold we encountered our next hurdle. The navigation system was in Chinese. Neither Max nor I speak Chinese. The car manual was only in French. Max does not speak French and I could not pull over anywhere. How on earth were we going to find out way back to the hotel??? We turned to our last resort. Phone data. Australian phone data.

Getting back into Lyon proper (even with the GPS on my phone) was probably what you would call a nightmare. The freeway systems are a maze in comparison to anything we have back home, with roads going in every-which-way imaginable and about 7,000 exits that all pointed to  the centre of Lyon and cars merging from right and left at 130kms/hour. We tried our best to follow the GPS but it seemed to keep changing its’ mind. When we finally did take an exit, we could not figure out where to go next and ended up accidentally merging BACK onto the same freeway only moments after we had paid to exit. Then (apparently there was no other way around it) we had to get off the freeway again (paying), turn around and get straight back on the SAME freeway but back towards the exit we originally took…. I mean come ON!! At this point Max and I were about to rip our hair out (we were still hungry mind you…).

Through some sort or magic (and a little bit of trial and error), Max navigated her way through the Chinese/French GPS haze, entered the hotel location and even managed to coax her into speaking English! Woohoo! We could almost see the light at the end of the tunnel. Almost…

One could confidently assume that we would be able to figure everything else out from this point forward, however even with the GPS in a language we could both understand it was a challenge. There were so many one way streets and tunnels that we really lost any last scrap of a sense of direction we thought we had left. We ended up accidentally going into a parking garage because we didn’t realise that the road went underground but the parking garage was one ground level… you know… these types of mistakes. About forty-five minutes after we had sent Roisin a message to let her know we were only ten minutes away, we pulled up outside the hotel. Roisin seemed slightly apprehensive as she climbed into the car, not that we were angry at her, more so at the entire debacle of a morning we had just faced.

Despite our frustrating morning, we were now excited to be on the road – the sun was out, we could roll the windows down and put on some music and relax (once we made it back out of Lyon that is). We started our journey to Tavel, stopping at a service station along the way to grab some much needed snacks (everyone was a bit happier with food in their bellies).

As we rolled on into Tavel it was time for some more oohs and aahs. Situated on the brink of the Provence region, Tavel is a small village known for its wines. As soon as we turned off the freeway we were driving past vineyard after vineyard and through rolling green countryside. We parked the car at Auberge de Tavel where we had planned to have lunch (it had come recommended in a few travel blogs we had read). Alas, as we walked into the restaurant we were told they had closed for lunch (as it was almost 2.30) and that we would have little chance of finding food anywhere at this time…We were gutted. And hungry. But if only one of the early events had run more smoothly we would have made it in time for lunch!! We tried to wander around this beautiful little town,  with hanging wrought-ion shop signs, a lavoir, beautiful big doors, vine covered walls and winding cobbled streets that seemed to continue to circle around the town church rather than ever actually leading us to it… But our hearts just were not in it. We decided to make our way to the next town, stopping by the famous Pont du Gard along the way (the most famous Roman monument in the region). As we were making our way out of the town we encountered not one, but two ladders set up in the middle of the street with someone up them! Thankfully they were accompanied by a smiling person who helped guide us around the ladder in the car. I can only imagine what they were thinking “crazy tourists”…..

 

One thing we did not expect to get excited about in France was seeing the golden arches of McDonalds. But you know what? As we rounded the corner and they sprung into view our hearts soared just a little bit higher. It was open, it had food and it was delicious. We even scored ourselves HappyMeal toys which happened to be French kids books!

After our quick pit stop, we continued our journey to Pont du Gard where we expected to find the well-preserved remains of the spectacular Roman aqueduct (constructed sometime between 19 BC and 50 AD) on the banks of the river Gardon. However, as we rounded the corner to where our GPS guidance ended we found ourselves in a majestic and empty carpark. At first we thought it might be the car park for the Pont du Gard, but there was no cars around, no signage to indicate that was actually what it was and a grumpy looking chap in the booth next to the boom gate. We turned around and looked for any other signs but couldn’t find them. Instead, we found the remains of a bridge that used to cross the river and had a little look around there.

This is a picture of what we had hoped to see – an impressive 49 metres in height and 275 metres long.

Feeling deflated from our luck, it was time to drive on to our final town of the day – Uzès. Along our route to this enchanting little town, we were  continually mocked by signs pointing to the Pont du Gard (in seemingly EVERY direction imaginable) as well as countless shops/restaurants/hotels all named after the Pont du Gard…frustrating would be an understatement. Thankfully, when we arrived in Uzès it was easy to find our bearings because the town is circled by a broad boulevard that completely surrounds the historic centre. We parked the car and headed into the first pretty place we saw, which just so conveniently happened to be Place Albert where the Tourist Office was also located!  A lovely man (that we initially thought was seedily inviting Max into his random shopfront, so Roisin and I waited helpfully outside) gave us a map of the town that included all the places of interest and a suggested route to follow)!

The town itself was actually very attractive, with its large arcaded central square, numerous historic monuments, historic streets and alleys, a good mix of medieval stone houses and fine townhouses, broad tree-lined boulevards and lovely views across the countryside. We had a lovely afternoon pottering in and out of shops and art galleries as we loosely followed our map and wandered around the cobbled streets. Unfortunately, the Medieval Garden – which was highly recommended – was closed, as were the towers you could climb and the Duke’s Castle, dating from the early medieval period. We passed some lovely churches – the Cathedral of Saint Theodorit and the Church of Saint-Etienne – and an old hospital which took us about 10 minutes to actually identify which building it was. I mean the map was not the most detailed one I have ever seen, but unless some of the fountains we were supposed to find were underground, it did leave some room for the imagination.

One of the artist studios that we ventured into was that of David Jamin. It was not just his art that was interesting, but also the studio itself which seemed like it was designed to resemble a cave!

Once we had explored, we headed to Le Bec à vin where we were planning on taking Roisin for a delicious, and belated, birthday dinner. Unfortunately they didn’t open till 7.30, so we put a reservation down for a table and ventured to Place aux Herbes (the main, pretty square surrounded by attractive stone houses, arcades and with a large stone fountain in the middle) where we found a lovely restaurant called Café de l’Oustal, so we stopped in for a glass of wine. We debriefed about our awful day, but commented on how we would have an amazing dinner, check into our AirBnB and have a wonderful sleep. Dinner was amazing. Delicious. Incredible. As was the accompanying wine and decor – they even had an adorable outdoor courtyard. Everything was going so wonderfully we decided to stay for desert!

Finally it was time to drive to St-Remy-de-Provence, our base and home for the next two nights. The town looked so sweet as we drove up, lit up from the street lights. There also appeared to be some sort of festival happening. We had just put the address into the navigation system and were following the route without thinking that much about it, when suddenly we found ourselves driving up teeny, tiny, little cobbled streets that did not really appear to be designed for cars. There was no parking up any of these little streets and to be honest we were quite close to the walls of the buildings either side of the car. We made it out of the maze and did about 3 loops of the town before we found somewhere logical to park and made our way to the apartment. Granted we probably should have known that arriving so late and in the dark at a tiny town that we had never been to before may have been a silly idea, but we are idealistic, we can’t help it! We made it almost all the way, past the first door, up the flights of stairs and got the key out of the lock box before disaster struck. The key would not turn. Now it was about 11pm, we had missed a call from our AirBnB owner about 10 minutes earlier, checking if we had arrived okay. We attempted to call him back multiple times with no answer. We all tried to open the door for about ten minutes each, tried both keys on the keychain (even though one clearly did not fit properly), tried to figure out if the other two locks at the bottom and the top of the door had to be touched in any way, read the AirBnB description about a million times to see if there was any “trick” to opening this door, but alas, it would not budge. We were considering sleeping on the landing or knocking on one of the neighbours doors when I decided to have one more attempt at opening the door.

Now looking back, I probably would still have made this last ditch effort, I mean, I didn’t really think anything else could happen at this point, but that was my idealistic nature coming out again. The key broke in the lock. I was shocked, dumbfounded, horrified. I slid to the ground and sat there, not sure what to do next. Thankfully the girls were on it, as I because a bit of a disaster spiral at this point, my gut felt like it was in my boots. We had been able to access the wifi from the apartment, even though we could not get inside, so they were frantically googling any other possible accomodation for the night. As St-Remy is quite a small town, there was nothing available that also had a few 24 hour reception. Our closest option was now to drive another half-an-hour to Arles. We had no choice (other than sleeping in the car or sleeping on the landing) so I rang the owner of the AirBnB, explained in broken French/English what had occurred, and that we were going to check into a hotel for the night. The we trudged back to the car and set off again. I could not have been more exhausted, both mentally and physically. I felt awful and I was so anxious about talking to the owner tomorrow as well as concerned about how much it might cost us. If it hadn’t been for the weird start to the morning, if we could have hired a car from the train station, if we did not get lost a million times coming back into Lyon, if we had managed to have breakfast and didn’t stop at the service station, if we had made it to Tavel in time for lunch, if we had not then had to stop at McDonalds, if we had discovered the location of Pont du Gard/been there earlier and seen other people, if we had not had desert at dinner, if we had not driven around St-Remy for ages, if we had not missed the call from the owner and if the key did not break in the lock … It really was a series of unfortunate events.

Thankfully when we arrived at the Ibis hotel (now almost midnight), check-in was a breeze, the beds were comfortable and we all crashed. It is safe to say – we love Ibis, Ibis saved us. Thank you Ibis.