Last week I told you about our sweet little island in Provence.
Today I'll tell you about the town just across the river, Avignon.
And the beautiful girly travel moment that Avignon gifted me with.
I've mentioned that Avignon was once the papal seat
and I'll post some more photos of our visit to the palace.
But the Avignon of today is simply gorgeous.
You can tell she is well loved. I've never seen a city more clean and tidy.
You could seriously eat off of the streets.
It's cleaner than my kitchen, which I probably shouldn't admit.
I have to be careful when I gush about this trip.
"Ohmagawd! Best trip ever! Such fun!"
Matt just looks at me like "Seriously?"
Then I have to clarify that I mean best trip ever... without him.
But, it really was close to perfect. These ladies are just the bomdiggity.
They've each nestled themselves a place deep in my heart.
It was so easy. We planned one big thing each day and just got on with it. No drama.
It was all about the rosé and enjoying each other's company.
And the food. Six days worth of wonderful meals together.
Every once in a while, one of us would close our eyes and sigh with contentment.
Which would set off a contagion of sweet sighs of happiness with our faces lifted up to the sun.
We quickly fell into a rosé rhythm.
We would order a bottle with four glasses, all in complete agreement.
Funnily, it worked out that each day we had one more bottle than the day before.
We were certainly relaxing into holiday mode.
One evening we sat near the carousel. People watching heaven, Avignon.
Two women walked by arm in arm. Two ends of a gorgeous feminine spectrum.
One older and slower, but so stylish. Slow steps and sparkling eyes.
Supported gently by a tall, young woman bending to pay close attention
to words of wisdom or maybe even a scandalous story.
Sensible shoes and dangerous heels. A tidy cardigan and smooth cleavage.
Cautious steps and a swing of the hips. Short white curls and long dark locks.
Completely enthralled with one another and oblivious to the world around them.
It was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen and brought tears to my eyes.
They could have been the same person. Just at different places in time.
Grandmother and granddaughter.
The present and the past.
Maybe I'm a little crazy. Maybe is was the pink wine.
Maybe it was estrogen overload. But, it was magic and I'll take it.
By the way, if you're ever in Avignon you must have dinner at Le Bouillon de Culture.
After being deeply offended by the chef at a foofy french restaurant (asshat!)
we walked out in a huff and luckily ended up at a much better place.
When we requested a taxi at the end of a fabulous meal,
they called nonsense and insisted on giving us a ride back to the hotel.
Now that's service.
Best. Trip. Ever.
Call your girlfriends now and start planning a trip.
Estrogen + pink wine + Provence = magic
What are your requirements for the perfect girls getaway?
