April 24, 2025
Day 66: Avignon to Macon
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We decided to take the earlier train to Lyon, to be sure of catching the connection to Macon. But even with a noon departure we had time for a second spin around central Avignon. In this second spin we tried to pick up loose ends glossed over or missed yesterday.
The first thing we noticed was that things in the centre are closer to each other than they appeared to us yesterday. The St. Jean square was really just around the corner from our hotel. And from the square it was easy to see the green live wall of Les Halles.
I made a closer photo of that green wall, but it turned out to be too close, so it just looks like a jungle, or maybe a salad.
Inside the market, I tried to capture some new schools of fish, some new breads, some new strawberries. Ok, one could call it a stretch to label this coverage "new", but we do love those categories and will use any excuse to look at and photo them.
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Meanwhile we had Dodie picking up lunch stuff, like quiche in some unique flavours, and of course apple and raspberry tartelettes I had whined for.
Back in the St Jean square, we could now spot the golden Mary atop the cathedral by the Pope's palace. See it in the corner?
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We headed in the direction of the Palace, with a twofold mission. We wanted to see if the cathedral next door would be open, and we wanted to check out the Kyriad hotel, which Kelly Iniguez had booked for her and Jacinto on their upcoming trip.
Two missed or glossed over stops were on the way. There was the St Pierre basilica, with it's octagonal tower, and there was the bell tower, that hides so mysteriously behind city hall.
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The Kyriad was next up. As with every hotel that we have seen in the old centre, the lobby space was small, giving the impression that all its other spaces are also small. Indeed, the man at the desk choked at the idea of having two bikes to store, especially with one being a trike. He suggested we check out the Mercure, next door. We did that. They said that while they could not accommodate bikes there, it was possible at their other location, which they claimed was 2 minutes away. We did pass that other location, about ten minutes later. It all reminds us of Amsterdam, where downtown bike space is very limited, in those narrow canal side buildings.
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6 days ago
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The cathedral turned out to be open. It seemed quite compact inside, not quite the grandeur we might have expected for the Pope's. But it did have some beautiful ceilings, and it had interest, in the form of some much faded frescos .
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6 days ago
From the cathedral one could almost see the new bridge on the Rhone. But we would have to walk a bit to reach the famous old St Benezet bridge. This would took us past the numerous souvenir shops, that we remember encountering when first coming in to Avignon , off the Via Rhona and through the Rhone gate. The shops have lots of lavender for sale, and Provence style postcards. Coming from up river these help you believe you have truly made it to Provence.
While that belief is partly true, I think Avignon sees itself more as part of the Rhone - the Côtes Du Rhone - for example, as a wine region.
Once we walked out of the Rhone gate, we did of course see the famous bridge. But we also felt that wind, blowing from the north along the river. We were very happy to duck back inside the protective wall of the city.
We made our way then past numerous exclusive boutiques, for jewelry, clothing, or regional delicacies. It was hard to imagine who would know about or patronize such shops - but there they were. One of the shops was for used children's clothing. Dodie took this as a sign that some real people, not just tourists, might live hereabouts. Interesting hypothesis!
We grabbed our bikes and gear from the hotel, and I would like to say we serenely pedaled up Rue de la Republique to the train station. It was almost so, but the street seemed to be a mixture of pedestrian and one way, against us. Or maybe bikes were permitted the way we were going- it's hard to say. We did dodge a few vehicles, including those stealthy electric mini busses.
The station was not huge, or particularly confusing, like at Madrid, for example. But they did have a big sign indicating the way to tracks 1,A,B,C,D,E. Were the letters positions along track 1, or tracks in their own right? I went to ask, and the ticket lady conceded that it was illogical, but each was its own track. We would have to reach these by elevator down and then up. But was the elevator big enough,? We had time, so I went on a test run down. Yes, it would work!
So when our track came up on the screen, twenty minutes before departure (not five, as in Spain!) down we went. But as for back up, the elevator did not appear to work! We frantically started to dismount all the bags, so the bikes could be carried up the stairs. Then suddenly, the elevator started to work! At the top we found workers who had been playing with elevator repairs. When we squeaked at them, they said "But we put a sign down there". NOT!
When we reached the train's bike car we found it had six bike hooks, of which two were in use. We rolled our heavy bikes parallel to the coach wall, eating up three positions for our two bikes. And when another bike came along, it squeezed into the final hook. That was all fine until four more bikes came along, one with a trailer. They had to go looking for another car.
And so we and bikes left Avignon. At Orange, one bike left our car, but at Valence more got on. That's where the orderly calculation of hooks available and hooks needed fell apart. People and bikes just piled in. It was a situation where on other trains and/or in other countries conductors had gone ballistic over safety concerns. But on this train in France we have not seen a conductor, ballistic or otherwise. There are announcements on the PA in three languages that you need a ticket to ride, but that's about it.
We got off at Lyon for the transfer on to Macon, and had the shock of seeing rather large crowds, something our systems had not been used to since maybe Granada. But there was also the chill. We sure are no longer in the south of France, or south of anything! It will also likely get cooler yet as we head north. This is of course part of the plan. We should be able to go north at the end of April, and be warm, right?
It was that transfer at Lyon that we were concerned about, since our original ticket allowed only 33 minutes to make it. But getting on an earlier train to Lyon gave us the needed leeway. In fact, at Lyon Dodie spied an even earlier train to Macon that we could catch.
On the monitors, we watched this Macon train rise in the ranks of soon to depart trains, until finally it's turn came to be given a track letter. It was "A". We knew how to do that, and promptly made our way to the elevator for track A. On the track, we found the car designated for bikes, but found it already clogged up with people, luggage, and two bikes. We tried a second bike car, but it was just the same. How had all these people gotten here so fast? Well. We shoved our bikes on, though no one inside near the door was willing to budge an inch. One of these asked where we were going in such a rush. When we replied "Macon" they all piped up that this was going to Belfort!
What had happened was that the train we had boarded was a touch late, and was still hogging track A. Our correct train was not there quite yet.
As we made to escape, the doors closed and the train took off! So there we were with our wheels shoved between people's legs, balancing precariously, on a journey of unknown length.
Our mates (the ones jammed in the entryway with us) slowly began to warm up and talk, now supplying critical information like when does this train next stop, and where. The answer was in about an hour or more, at Bourg-en-Bresse. And we were heading away from Macon, so no real option to cycle there from where this train might drop us. Next our new friends dug up the helpful info that there was no train from Bourg-en-Bresse to Macon - only bus!
It was an uncomfortable time, balancing the bikes, being careful not to make any funny business with wheels between legs, or to bonk the sitting lady's head with the bike mirror.
At Bourg-en-Bresse, the elevator on the platform proved too short for my bike, but one of our former mates helped carry it on the stairs. He also saw us onto the correct train, back to Lyon!
I am tapping this out now on my phone, on that train. We have no idea if once back at square one in Lyon we will find a train to Macon, and if yes, will we arrive when the hotel is still open? By the time you read this, the die will be cast, and a few more paragraphs on, you'll know. But for me now, I am just watching this milk train crawl back to Lyon!
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When the slow train back to Lyon arrived, we needed to return to the main concourse to verify our options for now properly getting to Macon. The SNCF app did give us an idea, but without the big screens one can not really find out that critical track letter.
We had come in on track "C". and to get off it - you got it - broken elevator!
We really wonder about this society's approach to the disabled. Had someone in a wheelchair come in to Lyon on the assumption that there are elevators - then what? The sign shows that someone in this situation is screwed until - tomorrow!
We took all the bags off the bikes and carried them down. On the big screens, and with the help of people - volunteers I think - that are around to help, we located the train we needed. It was then a matter of, yes, waiting for its letter to come up. This train weas lagging the other trains in getting a letter, because it was late by 20 minutes. This was becoming rather critical, because we needed to reach our hotel in Macon before the desk would close at 9 p.m.
Finally the letter came up and you guessed it, the letter was "C" - the track with the broken elevator. Off came most of the bags and I carried the bikes up quite a few steps. My days of doing this may be limited, because I was puffing, more like gasping, by the top of the stairs.
Now we got to find and crowd onto yet another bike car, with as before the ordinary passengers not caring a bit if they were clogging up the limited bike space.
When we did get to Macon, we asked a SNCF employee if there was an elevator. He said no, with a totally indifferent shrug. Desolée, as they say.
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5 days ago
But those stairs were matched with two sets of up stairs. This is where some other, younger, travelers noticed me struggling, and in their hands up the bikes went. I took the opportunity to ask them what people in wheelchairs would do at Macon. It was Dodie that fielded the answer and the subsequent comments. I think the answer was that one should avoid getting old or sick. And I think Dodie's reply was along the lines of "Now they tell me!".
We made it to the hotel at 8:57 p.m. In plenty of time! We could have squandered three more minutes anywhere our hearts desired!
Tomorrow we might sleep in just a touch, and then head North!
Today's ride: 10 km (6 miles)
Total: 1,950 km (1,211 miles)
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Isn't it a warm feeling inside to know humanity is still kind?
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