After an early breakfast, we walked up to the bus station (next to the train station) and sat waiting on the Quai 8 bench and waited for the 10:10 A15 bus, clutching our tickets like two little kids going to Disneyland. Just a 40 minute bus ride separated us from the Pont du Gard! 10:10 came and went. No bus. At 10:20 we walked into the ticketing room and found out that the A15 was not operating that day because of a national labor strike. Other buses had come and gone, but ours was on strike. C’est la France we were told. Damn!
After lunch, we decided to hop on the On/Off double decker bus. It started near our hotel, circled a few blocks in the city and then was out the gate and following the ring road. The tour crosses the Rhone and goes into Villeneuve lez Avignon, a village opposite Avignon. We got off at the foot of a hill on top of which was a massive stone fort. We walked up and into the ticket office/shop and found out that we could have lunch in the Abbey garden, but the fort itself was closed. It was closed because of the strike. No standing at the top of the battlements raining arrows down on the HRE soldiers. Damn, again! Oh well, c’est la France.
We spent the next hour or so wandering through the town, marveling at all the stone buildings rising out of all the stone outcrops in this hilly village. We got back on the bus thinking we’d complete the tour and just stay on for the next, until we got back across the river again where we would get off and walk along the river front to place were a boat would take us back to the Avignon side. No dice. Not because of the strike this time. When the driver parked the bus, he kicked us all off. Tour over.
Now some people might think at that point that it just wasn’t our day. It did cross our minds. But then we walked down to the rue Teinturiers neighborhood where we sat among locals, sipping beer at our table across from the café and reflecting on our trip. Next to a creek, shaded by trees, far from touristamania and relaxed. After dinner at a nearby café, we went home – as we’ve gotten used to calling our hotels – and packed for our trip to Arles tomorrow morning.