Camping Bagatelle, Avignon (day 2)

And breathe. The events of the last few days had been draining. This morning Angela took her first shower since her accident. Once again piped music filled the sanitaires. Disco this time. The cleaning staff singing songs as they worked. Angela could barely manoeuvre her towel over her body, let alone 'get down on it', as the words of the song suggested. Now we were safely settled in Avignon she had time to reflect. Upon her insistence we continued cycling. She didn't want the accident to make her frightened to cycle. The claims company acting for Saga insurance telephoned. Frederick, a very nice Frenchman wanted a copy of the hospital medical report and Angela's UK health card. He was appalled that they dismissed the fact she was in possession of the card and refused to look at it. Photos of her injuries were also sent. Not happy with the way she had been treated he was going to telephone the hospital. They would not fob him off, he spoke their language. The patched up and now push off attitude had made him furious. After advising Angela on what she must do when the time came for her stitches to be removed he promised to telephone again early next Tuesday afternoon to see how it was going. Twice he asked if we would like him to arrange transportation to return us to England. As lovely as our little cabin is this morning we found ourselves bumbling about. Our daily routine has gone to pot.

(John's Algerian street food) 

We wearily a walked across the bridge into town to buy lunch, then this afternoon sat in the cabin and read, dozing for a while, as the rain fell quite heavily at four for over an hour.

The inclement weather meant the street food truck opposite the campsite didn't open this evening, so once again we walked into town, bought frozen paella to cook which we enjoyed very much.

We have also booked to stay a third night, so will now continue cycling on Friday. Yesterday evening in Avignon had been both special and beautiful. What a difference a day makes. This evening still warm, but miserably wet. Mount Ventoux in the distance so clearly visible yesterday lost in the low cloud. Once again we don't envy the cyclists in their small tents.