Bucky's Trip to Avignon

Tom Biehl, a good friend of mine from Seattle, is spending this week bicycling around Provence with an organized tour. He and others I know from my Seattle days, came close enough for a rendezvous in Avignon. While it’s about a three hour drive, it’s only an hour by the TGV, the ultra-fast French train. After buying my ticket on my own from the local ticket office (yea me!) and with Jean’s help at the station (You MUST remember to stamp your ticket in the yellow machine before boarding. Failure to do so might get you removed from the train!) I set out to Avignon, which was the first stop.

So, just how fast does the TGV go? About 15 minutes before we were scheduled to arrive in Avignon, the train paralleled the highway. I could see a road sign out my window indicating that we were 71km from the city. I’m thinking to myself, “No way…” Sure enough, a quarter of an hour later, we arrived. Let’s to the math: 71km in 15 minutes = 284 km in 1 hour = 176 MPH! and that INCLUDES the slow-down to stop at the station.

After a quick cab ride, I met Tom in front of the Palais de Papes. We met some of the other bikers from Seattle and had a nice espresso before heading out for a walk around the city. There were lots of tourists, which surprised me since it’s late September. Not just the European selection either; I heard many American accents. We had lunch with the extended group which included my friend Charlie Curtis’s brother Spencer. After a bit more walking, I said goodbye to my friends and headed back to the TGV.

As I waited for my train, I overheard that the train before mine was late. That, of course, resulted in my train being late too. But the late part wasn’t the issue. It seemed that not ALL the trains were late. That meant the order in which the trains came actually changed…

I should tell you, these trains are not marked. No numbers or names of the cities displayed as with the metro. Just announcements in French; using only their numbers. Recognizing spoken numbers is not exactly my strong suit in French class. Especially since mine was 5376, which in French is cinquante trois, soixante seize (which really means 53, 60+16). But I focused, and sure enough it came. I rushed to my seat (after going into the wrong car) and relaxed, since I knew that the next stop would be Lyon.

But it wasn’t. Twenty minutes later we stopped somewhere else (still not sure where) so now I’m convinced I’m on the wrong train probably headed to Paris. I try to relax and read my book, but spent most of my time looking out the window for landmarks. I, of course, didn’t recognize anything. Until, voila! I saw some graffiti that looked familiar. God love the vandals…. Home safely before dark! (But Paris would have been quite an extension to my adventure…)

Bucky

View of the countryside from my window.

Tom and his good-looking friend.

Seattle bike crowd.

Commercial being taped at the Avignon TGV station.