A wintry walk by the Rhône

 Hello!

 Probably the thing I fell most in love with during my time in Avignon was the river. Wherever I live, I like to be near some great force of nature - often it's the sea or mountains. 

 Avignon's stretch of the Rhône first called to me in summer, when it was, as I describe it in my poem "Barthelasse", "soupy and green". Through autumn it glimmered like a sapphire and now, with winter slipping in, it was dark and majestic.

 Through every season, I just loved being near it - in fact, I felt I had to be near it on a regular basis. Sitting or standing by its side brought a kind of calm and purity to my mind, and in my busy life that was very useful to have. 

 The Rhône also moved me creatively - as well as "Barthelasse" and several other poems, I wrote a fiction piece entitled "The moon and river", which was inspired by the night of the supermoon and was published on Visual Verse.

 Here are some photos from a winter's evening when I bought a crepe in town and then took the now-familiar route down to the riverside. Night was coming in and it was an intense and magical time.

The Pont d'Avignon in the twilight. I came to love that bridge more than I ever imagined I could. It has real presence and character

 The last few are like an ink blot test, and I can see a Christmas tree, which is surely a positive thing (as long as it isn't real - I am a supporter of using fake trees). The festive season was well on its way, and experiencing it in Avignon promised to be fun.

 Thanks for reading,

 Liz x

The Millévin Festival

 Hello!

 In my last post I mentioned that Avignon was getting ready for The Millévin (Thousand Wine) Festival. I was keen to see what it would be like - I am a non-drinker but knew there was more to the Festival than wine and that it was an important part of Avignon culture. 

 The morning of the Festival I went for a wander. It was a glorious November day and the trees were golden and beautiful.

The lovely English-French bookshop where I had my origami class

 The river was particularly lovely, and the sky very blue.

 I had been meaning to try the "Crepe of the Month" at my favourite stand for a while, and today I finally got around to it. It was apple, caramel and cinnamon and was as delicious and autumnal as it sounds.

 I returned to my residence to wait for the evening, when the Festival would begin. When the time came I headed to the Place de l'Horloge, which was full of lights and people and chatter.

 In the big marquee there was wine-tasting, which isn't my thing, so I stayed outside and enjoyed the atmosphere.

 I knew there would be performers moving around the old town, so I decided to go and explore. There were more people by far than I had ever seen in the streets of Avignon, and that combined with all the decorations totally transformed the place. 

 This sounds like a cliche but there were some streets and squares I honestly didn't recognise at first because I had never seen them like this. It was like a whole alternate Avignon.

 The first performer I stumbled upon was a guy in a boiler suit and Biggles hat who was instructing everyone as to where to stand.

 We eventually found out why we had to stand in a certain place - a very strange vehicle arrived into the narrow street, playing music.

 The vehicle parked itself at the side of the original guy. The latter then took off his boiler suit and began doing tricks with a diabolo while the music continued. It was slightly bizarre, but good fun.

This was everywhere!

 I moved on to a square, where I found the next group of entertainers: a very colourful orchestra. They were dynamic - they danced on the spot as they played - and technically excellent. They added some quirkiness and joy to the night.

 The next performer I encountered was a balloon lady - or ladies; I wasn't sure whether there was one or several moving in and out of the backstreets.

 I don't know whether the balloons were meant to represent grapes or just be a striking costume. Either way the lady was visually stunning and captured the festival spirit. 

 However, she - or one of the ladies, if there were several - started taking balloons from her costume and releasing them into the sky. Releasing balloons is something I am very against due to how harmful it is to the environment and how dangerous it can be.

 With the balloon lady or ladies gone, people milled around looking a bit lost as to where to go next. Fortunately, another act promptly arrived: a small, folksy band.

 They were very bouncy and upbeat and the crowd seemed to love them.

 When they took a break I did a bit more wandering on my own, just soaking in the party spirit and marvelling at how different things looked. 

 As I was walking I heard the sound of samba drums in the distance. I was in my school's samba band and love this type of music and the sense of togetherness it brings, so I followed the beat.

 I soon found the band, who were of a range of ages and dressed neatly in black and orange. They began to play and were a slick outfit - an enthusiastic one, too. It was very enjoyable.

 A lady in a turquoise dress appeared to emerge from the crowd, and she started dancing to the rhythm with real passion. Whether she was actually a random audience member or was a part of the group sent to surprise us, I don't know. The way she moved to the music was amazing.

 After enjoying the drumming, I dropped into French Coffee Shop for a breather. I enjoyed a Nutella milkshake and watched a bit of news on their TV - I don't have one in my residence so whenever I get the chance to watch some French telly, I'm grateful. It was a nice rest from the excitement and noise outside.

 Back in the streets, the folksy band seemed to have just finished another set.

 With the action winding down, I turned for home. As I drifted back through the old town, now absolutely covered in shiny confetti, I was glad I had decided to come and try the Festival. It is one of the experiences that will stay with me the most from Avignon.

 Thanks for reading,

 Liz x