Avignon
The Palais du Papes (Palace of the Popes)
Martin was content to stay on the boat, so Juliet, Ian and I got used to heading off into the old town to explore. While it remained very hot (around 40°C most days), we braved the scorching temperatures and strong winds to see as much as we could. It is said that the name Avignon (Aouenion) may originate from Celtic or Ligurian words meaning, amongst other things, “town of violent wind”. Entirely appropriate in our humble opinion.
First stop felt as though we should visit the Palais du Papes, the largest Gothic palace ever built, and it did not disappoint.
Its immense scale illustrates the medieval might of the Roman Catholic church. Once a fortress and a palace, the papal residence was a seat of Western Christianity during the 14th Century. Begun in 1252 under Philip IV of France, in 1309, Avignon would become the residence of nine successive pontiffs, when Pope Clement V, unwilling to face the violent chaos of Rome after his election (1305), moved the Papal Curia to Avignon during the “Avignon Papacy“. Clement lived as a guest in the Dominican monastery at Avignon, and his successor Pope John XXII set up a magnificent establishment there, but the reconstruction of the old bishops’ palace was begun in earnest by Pope Benedict XII (1334–42) and continued by his successors to 1364.
In 1995, it was designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site for its outstanding architecture and historical significance to the papacy. The site, on a natural rocky outcrop at the northern edge of Avignon, overlooking the river Rhône, was that of the old episcopal palace of the bishops of Avignon. The Palais was built in two principal phases with two distinct segments, known as the Palais Vieux (Old Palace) and Palais Neuf (New Palace). By the time of its completion, it occupied an area of 11,000 m2. The building was enormously expensive, consuming much of the papacy’s income during its construction. During the seven decades that the palace served as the seat of papal power, one pope after another altered, tore down and rebuilt sections of the palace, including towers, courtyards, chapels and more. The interior of the building was sumptuously decorated with frescoes, tapestries, paintings, sculptures, and wooden ceilings.
The popes departed Avignon in 1377, returning to Rome, but this prompted the Papal Schism during which time the antipopes Clement VII and Benedict XIII made Avignon their home until 1403.
Although the Palais remained under papal control (along with the surrounding city and Comtat Venaissin) for over 350 years afterwards, it gradually deteriorated despite a restoration in 1516. When the French Revolution broke out in 1789, it was already in a bad state when it was seized and sacked by revolutionary forces. In June 1790, it became the scene of a massacre of counter-revolutionaries.[6]
Subsequently taken over by the Napoleonic French state for use as a military barracks and prison, it suffered more damage during the military occupation. Heads of statues were removed by the soldiers and sold. Interior woodwork was cleared away for use of the structure as a stable – the frescos were covered over and largely destroyed – this ensured the shell of the building’s physical survival. It was vacated in only 1906, when it became a national museum. It has been under virtually constant restoration ever since.
Charles Dickens describes a tour around this building in his book, Pictures from Italy. He describes his guide as a she-devil with flashing black eyes who glories in the gory past when the building was used as a torture chamber.[7]
On our way to the Palace, we came across a sweet little restaurant, sadly not open while we were in Avignon.
The entire complex is so immense that it is difficult to take a photograph that captures all of the buildings at once.
Inside the Palace, the chambers were empty of furnishings, but tablet ‘Histopads’ in many of the chambers gave us a very realistic view of how the space would have looked in all its papal pomp via virtual-reality representations. The degree of detail was fabulous. There was also an abundance of detailed banners, many of which were in both French and English. Always a positive. I can read French quite well, but it can be somewhat exhausting. Ian will usually call up Google Translate on his phone and scan the text into English.
The remaining frescoes were simply magnificent, despite damaged portions. The Chapel of Saint John was exquisitely decorated with frescoes representing the lives of Saint John the Baptist and Saint John the Evangelist, painted between 1346 and 1348.
The Chapel of Saint Martial was where final deliberations were taken during conclaves (six popes were elected at Avignon after Clement V). Created between 1344 and 1346, this chapel, illustrating the life of Saint Martial, was chosen to legitimise the Avignon papacy. Breathtaking.
Progressing through the various chambers of the palace, we eventually found ourselves in a series of rooms (the north and south sacristies) with some interesting statues and sculptures.
We were given access to one of the towers of the palace, affording us amazing views of the surrounding countryside.
Facing the other way, we could see the church of Notre Dame des Doms; the present building (thought to have been built on the site of a 4th-century basilica) dates back to the second half of the 12th Century.
The next stop was, naturally, the famous Pont d’Avignon. For a small fee, you can access and walk across the incomplete bridge, learning more about its construction and destruction. Legend has it that Benoit, a young shepherd, heard a voice telling him, “Go to Avignon and build a bridge over the Rhône”. Suddenly vested with great and miraculous force, Benoit lifted an enormous rock and laid it on the bank of the river. From this base, enthusiastic crowds erected the bridge, and Benoit became St Bénézet. Constructed in the 17th Century, the Saint-Benezet Bridge originally had 22 arches and was 900 metres long. During the siege of Avignon, Louis VIII ordered it to be almost destroyed. Reconstruction work was later carried out, but the unpredictability of the Rhône caused much damage. To date, only four arches of the bridge and Saint Nicholas’ Chapel still stand. The chapel was the original burial place of Bénézet. His remains were removed in 1674 and later disappeared during the French Revolution.
The mariners’ cross. Sailors on the Rhône would decorate their boats with crosses for festivals and processions. This polychrome cross dates back to the 19th Century. The sculptured figures on it symbolise the Passion of the Christ. The top of the cross has a cockeral beneath a boat, like the ones used by Rhône Valley sailors.
The Great Barge Robbery
Returning to Catharina after a hot but very interesting day roaming around the Palais, we settled down for a pre-dinner cold beer, when Martin said that as soon as we had set off that morning, he popped down from the wheelhouse for a moment, before returning to sit in the shade of the bimini. He realised the curtain we always pull across the wheelhouse door to prevent entry of unwanted pests was drawn back. Horrified to find his cigarette packet was no longer on the dash, Martin realised some human pests had come on board, and nicked his smokes.
While we could offer some half-heart condolences to Martin on his loss (I mean – sorry and all that, but we don’t smoke and he always had to light up way out on deck or off board) what was much more concerning was that when I went into the wheelhouse to see if everything was as it should be, I discovered the laptop we use for our navigation had been taken. As the day wore on, we realised the thieves had taken the laptop, Ian’s fairly new iPad and an old one he used to track power usage on board. We breathed a significant sigh of relief when we saw the dongle had been pulled out of the computer before they ran off. Our navigation program requires it to run, and its replacement requires buying a completely new version at a cost of over $600. We did try to be grateful that it had been left behind. Sadly, we also developed an unwelcome sense of heightened security and vowed to hide everything electronic each time we planned to leave the boat for the foreseeable future. Particularly if these pests are bold enough to come on board and enter the wheelhouse knowing Martin was still on the boat!
A Visit to the ‘Hotel du Police’
We were very sorry to say goodbye to Martin and Juliet, as we had enjoyed a fabulous time with them, but they were ready to continue their European sojourn.
I trotted along the quay to the capitainerie to let them know some local scoundrels had boarded our boat. Our conversation took place with me speaking in English and French, and the capitaine and his wife using their phones to translate everything into Arabic (?!). While they showed great concern and said the Mayor would want to know, I was told we would have to attend the police station to file a report. We have to do that anyway to make any insurance claims. Unfortunately, although we are getting very used to the different categories of French police, we still manage to attend the wrong station.
The port capitaine had told us we must talk to the Police Municipale, and we decided to walk the km or so, in the 40-degree heat. (Why? Shrug) Only to find we had once again misjudged (well, we were misled this time) who would take our information and pretend to be interested. This required a visit to the Gendarmes at their rather grandly named ‘Hotel de Police’, several km away in quite the opposite direction. This time, we took the bikes off and rode around the city walls to the said station.
After filling in a form, we sat waiting with other complainants until we were called into a room for our interview. The guy painstakingly typed up everything we gave him. In the absence of any English on his part, I was obliged to provide all of the information in French – perhaps we should have a laminated card prepared and just fill in the specific details from now on. He raised an eyebrow in feigned interest when we said we knew where the iPad was, as it had pinged as soon as the thieves tried to access it. They would not have been able to use any of the things they nicked (other than Martin’s cigarettes), so they would have just dumped everything. It was within 2 km of the boat, and we hoped the police would at least go to retrieve our possessions. We hoped in vain, however.
Following a supermarket run and an Amazon pickup at the local train station, we returned to the boat to make plans for what else we should see/do in Avignon.
The walls encircle the city with a number of ports that allow access into the old town.
Museums
We decided to stay a few more days, still keeping a watchful eye on the wind speed. Having paid for a week’s mooring, and with a generous number of free museums in Avignon, we felt the onus was on us to ensure none were neglected. So for the next few days, we would take the bikes off and cycle into and around the city.
While museums often close for déjeuner (this is France, after all), we found plenty to occupy our time, including a delightful beer garden in the Square Agricol Perdiguier. This was once the garden and cloister of a Benedictine Abbey during the Middle Ages. The Church of Saint Martial was then built here and abandoned after the French Revolution, the space later becoming a botanical garden.
One of the museums I enjoyed immensely was Les Bains Pommer. Designed and built by Auguste Pommer during the Belle Époque, these baths served the public for the best part of a century. The family lived on the premises until the building was donated to the city of Avignon in 2017 by the last remaining member of the Pommer family, Élisabeth.
Wandering through this beautifully preserved example of public baths, it was easy to become immersed in the daily life of the establishment, discovering the evolution of hygiene practices, as well as that of the baths’ users. Pommer’s engineering and construction had water storage tanks built high above the floors that housed the baths and showers, and a clever system of pipes delivered the water to the boilers, ensuring a constant source of hot water for bathers.
There were showers and separate bathrooms beautifully preserved with the original wall and floor tiles. With a small fee for entry, soap and razors could be purchased from a little shop on site, and use of the facilities was carefully managed in strict time slots. There were a number of private shower rooms,
and baths, with instructions for use.
After every use, the rooms were wiped clean and dry and prepared for the next client. The used towels and linens were washed in-house and dried on a rooftop terrace. Hours of operation were clearly described.
A central atrium provided a beautiful focal point, with the showers on the ground floor and the individual bathrooms on the next level.
Other museums we spent time in included The Musée Lapidaire, showcasing Greek, Roman, Etruscan and Paleo-Christian archeological collections in the Chapel of the College of Jesuites, built in the 17th-century.
The Musée Requien is Avignon’s museum of natural history, with several interesting fossils.
Housed in the former Archbishops’ Palace, in the grounds of the Palais du Papes UNESCO World Heritage Site, the Musée Du Petit Palais houses an exquisite collection of mediaeval religious art. The collections on display are magnificent, hung as they are on the bare walls or suspended from the high ceilings of chambers. The disconcerting part of wandering around this space was that periodically, a disembodied voice would announce in clear French that one was to keep one’s distance from the artworks. Although I could understand the comments, it did take me a little while to realise it was probably me leaning too close to the paintings, and plainly triggering an automatic, but nonetheless somewhat uncomfortable telling off.
One of our favourite saints is Saint Laurent (various spellings), who, when ordered to turn over the treasures of the Church to the Roman Prefect, distributed the church’s money to the poor and then presented the poor, widows, and orphans to the prefect, stating they were the true treasures of the Church. He was martyred by roasting him on a grill. Legend has it that he remained steadfast and humorous, telling his torturers, “Turn me over; I am done on this side”. The patron saint of cooks and barbecue, as well as that of deacons, firefighters, librarians, students, and the poor, some historical references also describe him as the patron saint of comedy. The museum displayed a series of beautiful gilded paintings,
Unwilling to leave a church without a look inside, we found the most beautiful altar and chapels inside Notre Dame des Doms.
Markets
The Festival
Each year, for the entire month of July, Avignon hosts an enormous arts festival. Performers descend on Avignon from all over Europe. We had seen a myriad of posters around the city and realised we would be around for the first night, which is highlighted by a massive, and I mean massive, street parade.
Cycling back inside the walls in the late afternoon, we locked up the bikes and found ourselves a good position to see the parade. Right next to a decent number of Police Nationale and Gendarmes, armoured up and carrying an alarming number of quite serious weapons.
The procession was led off by a percussion band, from Brazil, I think, and you can get some idea of the crowds that attended in this video.
Over the next two hours, the multitude of performers danced and sang their way through the centre of Avignon. As each group passed the crowds of spectators, one or more performers would leave their troupe to foist an endless number of brochures on us, tempting us with offers of free first-night seats, etc.
We tried telling them we were not French, which did not matter one jot. They would continue their diatribe in French or English, begging us to come and see them perform. Performances range from theatre to comedy to music. For the next four weeks, Avignon would enjoy a feast of delights. The start of the parade made it to the finish over an hour after starting. Heaven knows how long it took the last group to reach the end.
Finally, we realised we should press on, taking our chances with weather forecast to have less wind and leave Avignon, having sampled only some of its many of its delights. It was time to continue our journey and complete the last small portion of the Rhône that was still ahead of us and turn towards the Med.
