The other reason to visit Avignon other than the Palais des Papes (and the castle-like wall around the city and the charming shops, etc) is the Pont St-Bénezet—known more famously as the Pont d’Avignon.

You can think of it as the London Bridge of France. The title of the post are the first words of a famous French song traditionally sung at weddings. In English it translates to “on the bridge of Avignon, we all dance there, we all dance there.” We however, did not dance, we hung on for dear life.

The saddest thing is that only 4 of the bridge’s 22 arches remain. You can see three over the Rhone in this photo, and there’s one more to the right that a 4 lane road goes through. The little building on the bridge is actually a chapel, that was built on top of another chapel in the bridge.

Looking back at Avignon from le Pont, I am reminded of the fact that Europe is where castles are from. This is the real deal.

After walking some more through the city, we caught a train to Arles (which only took 20 minutes) and then rolled our bags to a nearby hotel on the Rhone that Stephanie had researched. The Mistral continued to blow with a vengeance.

Stephanie switched on the TV and fell asleep shortly thereafter. I played with the pictures I’d taken of the Eiffel Tower.

We left the hotel after dark in search of dinner. Saw a Roman arena all lit up that’s still used for bull fights and other events, and found a Spanish tapas restaurant called Media Luna.

Just so you know we are eating, I had manchego cheese with prosciutto, shrimp with chorizo, and a filet mignon of pork which was incredible. Stephanie had a salad with chevre on toast, sole with mushrooms, and filet mignon of bull. For dessert, an amazing creme brulé with lavender and profiteroles.