Cruising down the river

Along the Saone and join the Rhone. Sounds like a poem but it isn't! It was what we did last week, from Chalon to Avignon. All very delightful, not least the bit about being looked after hand and foot. Don't have to think for yourself. No shopping to do, no meals to cook. A jokey chef does that. It's a woman and she is even French but she tries a bit too hard. Her pre-dinner spiel, given as a double act with a wine buff, promises too many ingredients in every dish. A soupcon of this and a dash of that, designed to whet your appetite, is a bit of a turn-off but the food is reasonable just the same.

Locks to negotiate but leave that to the captain.Lots and lots of Americans on board. Unusual. Even more unusual is that many come from the deep south or mid west. I've never met anyone who came from Idaho before. Rarely met any Republicans either. But a charming, courteous bunch.

Arles was one of the highlights. that's where Van Gogh spent time incarcerated in the hospital we visited. Apart from the fact that every guide pronounced his name differently - Van Goh, Van Goff, Van Goch, there was also no concensus on how he lost his ear: Torn off during a fight, cut off by himself and given to his brother, cut off by himself and given to someone unknown. Take your pick! And, of course, the olive trees you see, are the ones he painted, as is the yellow cafe.

Avignon was on the last day of their theatre festival. Just like Edinburgh with strolling actors approaching you at a cafe table, hawking their show, asking you to attend at 11am, 1pm, 3pm or any other time.Lots of noise and beating of drums, lots of fun.