BEST WESTERN Le Comtadin
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... why, well guess what, the tree is an olive tree that has been dated over 1,000 years old, OMG. Glad we got the shot. I have to be honest, personally I wasn't enthralled by this aqueduct and I think that maybe that was because yesterday we discovered a little treasure at Castries, we found the source of the aqueduct and saw the finish and today for me personally today I saw a bridge with no beginning and no end, I know the history and the importance and significance ...
... and certainly in an older style.
Golden hue. Clear and bright. Vibrant but oxidise nose with toffee and butterscotch. Soft, dry and rich on the palate with a touch of sherry like nuttiness.
6. Côtes-du-Rhône Villages Rouge Vignoble de la Vialle 2012 – 13%
53% Grenache, 30% Syrah, 7% Cinsault, 10% Carignan (according to the web site but we were also told Mourvèdre). 40% in oak for six months with a mix ...
... and do a couple of laps to make sure we're on the right one, this was the case in Graveson but early in the ride it's never an issue.
Getting into Avignon was dead easy just follow city centre signs and we ended up in the old city. Then it was a little rest and a coffee, top up the bottles and a tour of the battlements and a look at the old bridge (where the dancer was?) - don't know why ...
... best stop we made was in a town called Lacoste. As we approached the town it didn't appear to offer much. But I went into the small tourist information shop and was given a walking guide, in English!
This town just amazed us for over 2 hours as we walked the steep streets. There is an old ruined castle dating back 1500 years or so right at the top of town. To walk to it means clambering up really steep cobblestoned lanes that haven't been touched ...
... bothering me. Then the drizzle started, and the pavement improved a bit. Another couple of km it was raining hard as I reached the treeline just before a large stone barn-like building identified as Le Perron. At a switchback there was a picnic table and I stopped to zip the sleeves into my vest. As I was doing so, I saw a small sign pointing into the tree indicating a Huguenot cemetery. I should have listened closer to my good friend Bill who used to ...