How we thought we had time to go to Avignon completely escapes me. But you have to give Frosty credit. He tried. Once in town, the narrow streets were a snarl of traffic; There was no place to park; and we quickly realized anything we wanted to see was going to require some dedicated time. I managed to slip out of the car for this photo while Frosty reset the GPS.
We were on our way to the Alps of Provence to see Mont Ventoux, made famous by Tour de France.
Lots of tiny alpine flowers.
And the view . . .
A bit farther down.
From the mountain, we took the back roads. Oh, my did we ever see some beautiful scenery.
Miles of lavender. All bloomed out and harvested of course,
Tiny villages tucked between mountains, quaint farms, roadside stands, hundreds of picturesque points that deserved to be photographed, but we pushed on.
Good thing. Getting to the hotel in Nice was a small nightmare. Then there was no parking at the hotel. It was not the sweetest way to end the trip, but finally the car was parked. We went to the train station (although that turned out to be a worthless effort),
And dinner was ready. Our last supper together.