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Wednesday 12 September 2007
On the bridge of Avignon
We are sitting in a rustic back room of a Brasserie, tastefully adorned with tapestries and paintings of local scenery. Jazz is softly playing in the background, the local wine is cheap like water and the menu boasts delicious things like tapanade. Yes, I'm back to that again. I keep some in my purse in case I encounter a baguette.
Our room is inside the walls of the old city in a house as old as the walls themselves. The decor is eclectic. (ok so i admit I would love to rip out the carpets and go on a plastic flower kill but it's charming nonetheless.) The bed has a handmade quilt and the window has shutters. We went to the local superstore (somewhere between the magical ambiance of a dollar store and Zellers) to pick up wine glasses and cutlery for our picnics.
We've decided to spend the rest of our time in France eating, napping and figuring out how cheap you can go before the wine tastes like ass. Current bottle: €4.95... so far so good.
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