In the mid-seventies, my husband and I took the night train from Hamburg to Basel, a local from Basel to Geneva where we caught the T train to Avignon. Our previous experience on the Erie-Lackawanna from Jersey to Hoboken to NYC had not prepared us for the real world of train travel. Aboard the express, the first thing I did was to sit in the lovely cushy upholstered seat on a huge wad of gum. My good gabardine skirt was essential to my travel wardrobe. I went looking for ice to remove the gum, but no ice could be found. It had been a long twenty-four hours by the time we checked in at the Hotel D'Europe in Avignon, where our search for ice continued. We were exceedingly stressed. And then we just lost it, had a spectacular argument and refused to stay in the same room with each other. Fortunately, this beautiful old-world hotel room had a sitting room, a bedroom, and an ante-room for one's personal maid/butler. I cannot now remember who slept in the maid's room.

With the air cleared, we had a great day in Avignon, went off in our Avis car the next day to explore Provence and the Languedoc. Typical Americans of the era, happiest when they do the driving themselves.

Jane Estus