I Am the Greatest Tourist Attraction in French History

Yesterday started like so:
1. Wake up and marvel that you're in France. Then look over, see me and marvel that you're in France. With me.
2. Go into garden and consult your French Bible, Rick Steve's Provence and the French Riviera (thank you, Auntie Erin. We now believe this is our challenge. To do EVERYTHING in that dang book that we haven't done before. We're being ridiculous at this point.)

3. Eat this entire plate plus way more bread, fruit, plus yogurt, plus a bazillion cups of Cafe Au Lait.
4. Go into Avignon and laugh hysterically that I get more attention than the rest of the scenery.

People come from all over the world to tour ancient structures like the ones we walked among, along, on top of and under yesterday.

Le Palais du PapesPont Benezet (better known as the infamous nursery rhyme bridge..."Sur Le Pont D'Avignon, On Y Danse, On Y Danse....")The Old City of AvignonPont Du Gard

And yet, people were completely sidetracked by a certain celebrity roaming the streets. Who, you ask? Oh, come now...like you're actually all quel surprise! No. C'mon. You're not. I was a huge hit in Avignon and you know it!

At one point (and this is seriously not just for entertaining you via the Interwebs. This part is word for word the TRUTH) Mama and I were on the edge of the Pont A'Avignon. Mom wouldn't stop humming that cursed song so I laid down on the edge of the bridge - this was just after I tried to hurl myself into the Rhône when I saw a pigeon - and just watched the people. Those people soon became my people. If you know what I mean.

When mom finally pulled herself away from her camera she realized I was surrounded -- on all sides -- by tourists. They were just going on and on about me (I could understand every word. Emotionally unstable adoration sounds the same in every language) and then people started taking PHOTOGRAPHS.

It was awesome.
And continued at the Pont Du Gard. The second tallest Roman structure in the world (the colosseum in Rome is only 6 feet higher) is essentially overwhelming. And not just because I'm 4 pounds. It is overwhelming for everyone. 4 legs, 2 legs, and...well, you get it. And yet they couldn't stop looking at me. Maybe it was because I was laying on the side of the bridge and it is huge and I am little and people thought I might fall? Too bad they don't know I can fly.And I'm all, PEOPLE. Pay attention to this insane structure. Not me for pete's sake. I mean, there are people jumping off cliffs below in the shadows of this sucker. Isn't that enough to distract you?At any rate, the attention was exhausting. And besides, we'd been running around for 7 hours and barely even stopped for lunch (that's saying something considering my mother LIVES to stop and eat aroudn here). We made it back to Les Frênes in time to change and freshen up for dinner out in the garden. We don't have photos of the food b/c mom and Papa were too busy FAH-REEK-ING out about how good it was. I do have this to share, however, before dinner:

Papa and I had a seat out in front of the hotel and soaked up the late day sun. He had to make some work calls and I know he needed my help. I make incredibly good decisions. Consider this: have you ever seen me on What Not to Wear? Nope. I always look perfect. That means I always make perfect decisions. That's not an overstatement. That's just straight math. After dinner I just couldn't take it anymore. Mom was up for hours reading Julia Child's "My Life in France." And I'm all, stop reading. Stop talking. And for the love of all that is good and holy STOP SINGING THAT SONG, MOM. And then we all went to bed and woke up to today. Which, to be honest, I'm still trying to take in.

The plan was simple. It contained two words (road. trip). One car. Three Americans. And a lot of "I've always wanted to see...." stories. And lemme tell you. We. Did. So. Much.
Unfortunately it was a wee bit windy.Yea. Bad fur day, party of one. We can seat you now...

But that's not why the wind was a problem. It was a problem b/c my mother is terrified of wind. As in, lifetime fear. Heart-stopping horror. And we're heading down the autoroute and see this:(This is a bit smudged. Taken through the car window. At 85 miles an hour. It says "Violent Wind. Be careful.")

Violent wind? Not good. Not good at all. She's screaming about how wind will kill you. And asking if it can flip over our car. And wondering if she's got a good black dress that still fits she can be buried in.

Papa pulled over, sedated mama, and left her on the side of the road.

We continued our day w/o the crazy-scared-of-wind lady.

We drove into Marseille which mama loves b/c that town played a huge role the year she reached fluency in French. She adores that city and it means a great deal to her. Too bad we'd left her on the side of the road and she missed the visit entirely.
But it was our next stop that would truly overwhelm us. Cap Canaille in Cassis. Just driving into Cassis we were blown away (and not by the wind. Ha.) by the view.
By the time we climbed up the road for the full scene, we could hardly believe our eyes. It is the tallest maritime cliff in all of Europe. In all sincerity, the photos don't do it justice. The Cap drops down sharply into the Med from the front and as it drops the sides are terraced by vineyards. Simply incredible...From there it was on to La Ciotat. Sigh..the sea shines likes diamonds there...We went from the coast up into the hills to the infamous wine country of Bandol and the surrounding villages. We ended up driving far up into the mountains to find the well-hidden gem of Chateau Du Pibarnon (Wine Spectator gave their red 95 points. I can attest that it is well worth the hype. Hiccup.) and we loved every second that we were there. They were so kind to welcome me and even present me with my own tasting alongside Papa. So hiccup dang hiccup good!As we came down from the Chateau the sun began to set and were met with this: A perfect look back at our entire day, essentially. From Cassis down into La Ciolet and up into the wine country. We had to stop and let the moment sear into our hearts and minds.

Then we decided to pick up Mom. She's a little war-torn but a few wind burns never hurt anyone, right?

We arrived in Cabris (the village where we rent the most wonderful French home, L'Adret Du Ribas) just in time for dinner at Le Petit Prince. Cabris was home to the author of that famous book, Antoine de Saint Exupery and they're very proud. Granted, they've even more reason to brag now that I've returned.

It feels so good to be back at L'Adret Du Ribas and I'm so overcome with the memories from the last few days that I've passed out and allowed my servant to finish this post. Granted, that servant is my mother but like I said a few days ago, it still works.

Love, Licks and Southern French Sunshine,
The Mae
xoxo

PS: Oh. And in case you were curious, I do have a favorite moment from the trip so far. We've seen a ton. Learned a lot. Eaten too much. But nothing has compared to this little beauty: Oh, yes. That's what you think. A memorial inside Palais Des Pâpes. A the feet of a nobleman lies....a memorial to...HIS DOG.
I bit mom in the face and told her to keep that scar as a reminder to reflect changes in her will to dictate her desire to honor me on her gravestone.