Philobiblon

Booking tickets on the SCNF site you have the option of printing them yourself, much handier than wrestling with a credit card at the station. But all I had to hand was bright green paper. So what’s the odds: on the way down to Avignon no problems – although the guard couldn’t find the picture page in my passport.

On the way back I get a lecture about how these are only supposed to be printed on white paper. I refrained from asking him where that was written …

This was my first-class splashout – a whole extra 10 euros, but really, for larger seats, it wasn’t worth even that small supplement – snooty people (had a mobile phone row), and no extras like free tea or coffee. I’ll be going second class next time.

(Okay – I may have gone mad with the camera – this may be a little more detail of ancient Glanum (near Avignon) than most people want: feel free to stop at any time…)

But to start with the killer pic … of the restored imperial temple:

You’ve seen the grand mausoleum and triumphal arch, which was really the back end of town, now you walk up the hill over olive groves that must cover the main residential quarters (the whole town covers almost 99 acres) to the entrance to the archaeological site. You are directed up the hill, the sharply angled limestone spur for a grand view over the city and up to the pass — cut now for the modern road — that gave this location its importance for many years on the trade route to Marseilles.

(That back of the head belongs to a very pleasant man from Marseilles with whom I had a chat that went beyond the usual “are you here on holiday?” to a discussion of the conundrums of the site, including the area that looks very like a theatre but apparently is associated with an aqueduct. And the fact that the “house of Cornelius Sulla” is dated as Gallo-Greek, but the name suggests otherwise. He explained that the Romans had a pretty big place even before the army turned up.)

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In the foothills near Tarason (between Avignon and Arles), 5,600 square metres of land with 138 olive trees (“138 pieds d’oliviers” – sounds grander in French) with a little house. About £100k.

Sounds perfect – the agent says “a place for you to de-stress”. From which I read there’s no phone line or electricity, or reasonable economic possibility thereof, and probably no mobile phone signal.

The house looks exactly like an Australian farmhand’s shack, with a verandah out the front – ahhh.

No, I’m not serious, just fantasizing.

But should you be captivated, the agent’s number is 04-90-43-59-73

Vieux Marc de Chateauneuf du Pape, made by the Legats.

Since last night was my last in Avignon, thought I’d indulge in a digestif, and the waiter persuaded me to try the local speciality. It is very strongly flavoured – reminded me of Chinese fortified wine with its complex combination of herbs – and very strong.

I drink much less now than I used to in my misspent youth, and I don’t have the tolerance for alcohol I used to have, but I’m still not a cheap drunk. However, my head remained in the clouds for several hours afterwards.

I’m thinking of buying a bottle just in case I should ever need to have an operation without anaesthetic – you wouldn’t feel a thing…