Avignon, France

Avignon is a bit vague in my mind. We arrived late in the day and checked into a hotel that had a really creepy toilet – imagine a black sea urchin sitting in the base of a rock pool and you get the idea. It was basically another town that was best discovered via wandering the winding cobbled streets which had quirky names like “Rue de Petit Monnaie” (Small Change Street) and “Rue de Grande Monnaie” (Large Change Street). I also seem to recall that Michael spent a fair amount of time testing my ability to conjugate French verbs. This would later come in very handy.

We couldn’t go past a place called Woolloomooloo without asking why it was named that – turns out that the owners felt a real affinity for that part of Sydney and thought of it was a little corner of paradise. It’s funny that you might think a part of the world is divine – but the people there think that where you come from is paradise.

(Avignon is most famous for the Palais des Papes, which is the only place outside of Rome which has played host to the papacy in history.)

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