Avignon, Aix & the Rhône Valley
Avignon anchored this stretch, its Palais des Papes — seat of the medieval papacy for nearly a century — glowing against the night sky, and the truncated arches of the Pont Saint-Bénézet, the "Pont d'Avignon" of the old song, reaching only halfway across the Rhône. Above it all, the Rocher des Doms garden holds its own quiet corner: a bronze Venus mid-flight over a reflecting pool, with views out over the river. A short drive north, Châteauneuf-du-Pape wears its papal history plainly — the ruins of the popes' own summer château crumbling on the hilltop above rows of vines that still carry the name. Aix-en-Provence, grander and busier, filled a full day on its own: Cours Mirabeau running the length of the old town under a canopy of plane trees, book-ended by the Fontaine de la Rotonde and a statue of King René himself, grapes in hand; a Saturday market spilling produce across the square; and the cathedral's Gothic bell tower keeping watch over it all. It closed, fittingly, with a bottle from Gigondas — Domaine Les Goubert's own Côtes du Rhône, poured out to toast the day.