After an overnight pit stop in the rain-drenched Carcassonne, we arrived in Avignon.
First, Sylvia the GPS tried to take us down a one-way street into the city, then she tried to have us jump bollards and go the wrong way on the main road.
It was time to shut down Sylvia until we’ve found our own way into the city… Eventually, we let her off the leash and she leads us to our apartment.
Of course I’d been completely distracted, so hadn’t organised a key pickup.
Without a phone card or functioning mobile phone, we went in search of the Office de Tourisme. Which is when the adventure started.
One right turn was all we needed to lead us into the rabbit-warren of impossibly-narrow back alleys.
But we’ve been around long enough to know that very little is impossible in France when it comes to cars.
So we sucked in our breath and wove our way around until we finally came out at a main road – no closer to the Tourism place. C’est la vie.
Time to stop at the nearest hotel, not for a drink, although we definitely needed that. Instead, EB soon had them calling our apartment owners and arranging for us to meet.
Talk about opening doors (and leaping language barriers) with just a smile…
And who said blokes didn’t like asking for directions?