By Arachne

I spent several hours walking round Avignon the afternoon, looking mostly upwards. 

I remember seeing a magnificent Picasso exhibition in the Papal Palace there in 1974 and I thought I'd visited the palace too but I assume my student lifestyle didn't stretch to the entrance fee as it was completely unfamiliar, and not only because the current way of seeing it is to be guided by a tablet (Historipad). I loved the (photos-forbidden) frescoes but oh, the huge and elaborate living spaces the Popes had! Even before I got to the treasury, where the wealth hidden in secret stashes under the floor was guarded by close confidants of the popes, I was imagining Jesus turfing the lot of them - the argumentative popes and their brocaded entourage of cardinals and bishops - out of the temple. Honestly! Did they just redact the bit of the bible about eyes of needles?

Instead of dancing on the Pont, I caught the train to Montpellier where loads of people were out basking in the evening sun in Peyrou (extra).

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