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| {Le Palais des Papes} |
It happened on Rue de la République. There I was, innocently standing at the back of the rented Volkswagen Touran, when I opened the door and was assaulted by a suitcase. The minivan was so overstuffed that as soon as the door opened, a twenty pound carry-on hurled itself at me, hitting me on the shin before bouncing off down onto my foot.Â
There is only word to yell when being assaulted by a twenty pound carry-on and that word is;Â
aye a fuckenmuckennucken, and undoubtedly, you will get some odd stares if you yell aye a fuckenmuckennucken while standing on Rue de la République, but you won’t care, not one iota, because being assaulted by a twenty pound carry-on freaking hurts. Â
We had just collected Miss Vicki and JoDelle (and their impressive luggage) at the Avignon TGV station and headed into the walls of the city to check into our hotel and begin our twenty-four hours in one of my favorite places. After getting our visitors settled in for a rest, I decided a glass of Rosé was in order to help me nurse my injuries (I could have used a bucket of Rosé but that wouldn’t have been very becoming), so The Husband and me headed out à deux to Avitus, my go-to wine stop in the city. Â
Feeling refreshed by my glass of pain go bye bye juice, it was back to the hotel to get dressed for dinner. (Going out to dinner in the big city is always such a treat for me. My ‘going out clothes’ tend to scare Les Villagers, but when I’m in the city, I can let myself shine and that night in Avignon called for sparkly gold shoes on my tootsies).Â
Finding a restaurant for dinner had posed a bit of a challenge (I like planning these things waaaaay in advance… no doing things on the whim for Sara Louise, no no no, whims simply won’t do). I had planned on eating at Fou de Fafa (the restaurant where we had bid adieu to Bec), but when I called to book, they said that they would only have half of their kitchen staff in September and couldn’t handle a party of six (I was tempted to book two tables of three but decided not to because well, that would have been weird). So then I thought of La Cour d’Honneur, where we celebrated Aidan’s birthday, but since I prefer dining in their pretty fairylight lit courtyard and September evenings can be unpredictable, nixed that idea.Â
And then I had a stroke of genius… I would go back to the beginning, to the first place I dined in Avignon, the place where I met Honey Bee and Mrs. Cousin for the first time, the place where I began to fall in love with the city, the gorgeous Le Bain Marie. Yes, Le Bain Marie was the answer.Â
I love it when a plan comes together.Â
Only it didn’t .
Le Bain Marie is charming and elegant, and a wee bit quiet in that candlelit hush hush conversation kind of way.Â
Would two Texans, my Irish mother, and Godmother from New Jersey be candlelit quiet on their first night of vacation together? I doubt it. (Can you just imagine the accents battling it out?!)Â
The charming and elegant Le Bain Marie had to be scratched but I vowed that I would return for one of those hush hush candlelit conversation kind of evenings soon. Two days before dinner, the reservation was cancelled and I was on the hunt again.Â
Then I found it; Restaurant Newground. It was perfect. The food was delicious (croustillant de fois gras poêle aux cheveux d’anges followed by médaillons de filet de lotte en nage d’érevisses), we were one of only three tables there (perfect for battling accents) and bonus, we were right around the corner from our hotel. This last bit was very important and I’ll tell you why…
The Husband and I had a date.Â
London dwelling Sarah and her husband happened to be in Avignon for the night. Total coincidence, I know! So after we deposited our guests back safely to their beds, we skipped off to the Irish pub.Â
All settled in with our nightcaps, I asked Sarah how their night was, and did they go anyplace nice for dinner.Â
And do you know what she said? She looked at me, told me all about this amazing restaurant that she stumbled upon, that she just knew I would absolutely love…. oh, what was it called… Le Bain Marie!Â
Over two hundred restaurants in Avignon,Â
and she had to stumble into mine.
 Â
bisou
P.S. Up next: more Avignon, a howling mistral, and Gordes.Â
It's Me, Sara Louise 
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