There’s some fun stuff here!
Never far from home. In the Verona parking garage, advertisements for the other garages managed by APCOA. (Only Döbling friends will appreciate this photo.)
We were so BORED driving through Switzerland that the local Swiss folk music actually entertained us.
Alas, we missed the running of the bulls in our Provence village by one day. Perhaps next year.
Meringues in the window of the village boulangerie. Only €2,50 for all that sweet, airy goodness.
Jack struggled with the French version of “coffee.”
An old French Monopoly game kept Jack and Anna Grace amused on pool breaks. Spending 50.000 French Francs on a hotel was fun!
Downtime in the yard.
Interesting journal in one of the paper and book shops we browsed.
Ours is not, but the sign was cute nonetheless.
A few scenes from Avignon, home to the Catholic Church before the smack down Pope-Off with Rome.
Way too many of these signs everywhere we traveled. At least the Austrians have a sense of humor about road construction.
A point of commentary. One day, in one of the markets, Tony and I overheard a slovenly, overweight and obnoxious American husband speaking to his friend on the sidelines: “I bring her to France and all she does is effing shop.” Okay, then.
The following day, in a different market, we overheard Mr. Evolved again offering this theory to his friend.
“We haven’t evolved too far from our hunter-gatherer time. Look at the women. Just like in the days when men hunted for food and women gathered nuts and seeds, our wives are just picking through the linens.”
Tony recognized Mr. Evolved, too, and grabbed my elbow to steer me away before I could respond to the asshat’s statement.
Finally, Clayton Theodore’s sad face on the evening we had begun to repack the car, sensing that his days of napping on the terrace and chasing lizards in the yard were coming to an end.
To Provence. Until we meet again.