Viva la France

We were going to have dinner at La Violette tonight but, when Mirinda dropped in to book it, she was told it was only open for lunch today. The fact that we were in Avignon and La Violette is our favourite restaurant, it was inconceivable that we wouldn’t dine there so, rather than dinner, we had a sizeable lunch instead. And by the gods it was good.

From the raw fish to the raw beef, from the quinoa to the caramel chicken, the whole meal was superb. It was Mirinda’s fourth meal there and, she said, it was just as perfect.

Caramel chicken on rice, wrapped in a banana leaf

We only had the one day in Avignon, which was a shame. It was a delight to have a day off travelling but, we love France so much, it was a shame that this was it for this trip. Mind you, we will probably have a day in Paris on the way back. We shall see.

Anyway, we managed an excellent sleep in, not leaving the accommodation until around 10am. We wandered down the street and found a delightful spot for a petit déjeuner. I enjoyed the first decent coffee I’ve had for a few days and a delightful egg and bacon repast.

Reasonably set up, we then set off for a wander around the beautiful back streets, peeking into various mysterious shops and, generally, made our way down to the Place of Clocks. This was where we stayed the last time we visited in 2019. We had our second perfect coffee of the day.

On our wanderings, we stumbled upon the previously undiscovered (by us anyway) Roure Palace.

Originally built in the 15th century as a private mansion, the Roure Palace now houses the results of various collections. As well as the usual paintings, furniture and sculpture, the house also features almost 200 bells. They were the collection of Jeanne de Flandreysy. She really loved the bells. Almost Quasimodo-ish.

Born Jeanne Mellier in 1874, she married Aymar de Flandreysy in 1899. Aymar was a Scottish gentleman with French connections. He died not long after they married, either in a hunting accident or a shipwreck. No-one seems to know which. Maybe he was hunting while aboard a ship. No-one will ever know.

From Aymar’s estate near Melrose Abbey, Jeanne returned to France where people didn’t believe that she had actually married anyone. To this day, there are many people who still think she made up the whole thing. Who knows? Certainly not me. She didn’t seem that bothered by this and, in fact, she probably enjoyed the notoriety it gave her.

She joined the social whirl and was proclaimed a great French beauty. And she was certainly a bit of a looker.

Portrait de Jeanne de Flandreysy by Paul-Cezar HELLEU (1859-1927)

But don’t underestimate Jeanne. She wasn’t just a pretty face. She mixed in high literary circles and wrote books and articles herself. Most important, though, she met Frédéric Mistral.

Freddy boy was an author of great importance, particularly in Provence, a place he dearly loved. He is mostly known for his love of the local language. It could be said that he saved the Provencal language from being lost for all eternity. Anyway, he had a lot to do with Jeanne as they were great friends.

And, returning to Jeanne…she helped a friend called Marquis Folco de Baroncelli. He was a bit short of the readies but wanted to save his family home. Jeanne helped him with a bit of money. She also had a bit of sex with him, but I don’t think that had anything to do with anything other than idle pleasure.

The house, which they bought in 1918 was called the Palais de Baroncelli. It was eventually renamed the Palais du Roure (by Mistral) and was bequeathed, by Jeanne, to the city of Avignon. And that’s where we went today.

It’s a small place but packed with fascinating objects and stories. I particularly liked a painting that hangs in the stairwell but, because of the light streaming in through the upper floor windows, it was impossible to photograph.

I also rather liked this oddly stylised portrait of someone Tudorish.

Having finished our inspection, we started to retrace our steps, in order to leave, when a chap in a chair, leapt up and told us we had to exit down the spiral stairs. They looked a bit unfriendly, particularly for an old tomte with a walking stick, and Mirinda told him as much. He nodded, gesturing vaguely at my stick, and told us we could go out the entrance instead. Very generous of him, I thought.

It was a lovely little museum, featuring people I’d never hear of and, subsequently, became intrigued by.

Mirinda also had an idea to go and visit the cloister of St Louis. This is attached to an old Jesuit monastery, which is no longer one. In fact, it appears to now be some sort of performance space (it was closed) and the actual cloister is now offices and a hotel.

Still, you can walk into the cloister and see what it once may have looked like. We particularly liked the moss covered fountain. I think it looks like a film set.

After lunch, Mirinda planned for us to visit the contemporary art gallery. We went in having found an open door and wandered about being very confused. Everything appeared to be only half there, if at all. Labels on the wall referred to a room empty of anything but light and air.

We peeked into everything, wondering about how obscure art could become before becoming nothing of the sort, when we were accosted by a young chap who told us the gallery was closed until tomorrow and would we kindly piss off. Actually, he wasn’t rude at all. He was very pleasant for someone who didn’t understand a single word we were saying.

We politely left and gradually made our way back to our accommodation and had a bit of a chill.

There was a brief moment of concern late on when I popped out to check out where the station was. I passed a group of suspicious young men who asked me something. I told them I didn’t speak French, and they nodded and kept walking.

They then knocked at the door of our accommodation and Mirinda answered. I figured I should help, so I walked back and asked what the problem was. The three said there was no problem and, eventually, left.

Mirinda thinks they didn’t look dangerous and, in retrospect, I think they were looking for a house other than the one we’re in. Anyway, whatever the reason, we decided I’d stay in until it was time to go for a drink.

Eventually, we returned to the same bar that we went to last night, and it was full of merry drinkers. Last night, there was about ten of us, tonight it was closer to 100. However, in order to show Nicoline there was a crowd, I took this photo.

It’s a bit mysterious where all the people went…I’m beginning to think that everyone in Avignon is camera shy.

Tomorrow, Spain.

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2 Responses to Viva la France

  1. nicoline says:

    camera shy?
    or Gary shy?
    🙂

  2. Mirinda says:

    They were a bit alarming. They banged on the door very hard and even though we couldn’t communicate they hung around for some minutes talking loudly and waving their arms about. ( I think we were on the receiving end of that English tradition of speaking loudly to foreigners). Put it this way I for forbad G from leaving on his walk – I figured he needed to stay and protect me with his stick.

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