Avignon

We stopped in Avignon for the night and explored the city a little. It was beautiful. Fully walled and all the buildings were old. It reminded me a bit of Rome. All those squares Erica and I were perpetually lost in. Then we got dinner. Once again the waitress questioned my age. "Juene Fille" (spelling?) she called me. Young girl. She couldn't have been any older than me. Perhaps it is that I tend to be quiet when we order around here... due to my bad/non-existant French. Does that make me come off as much younger? The other night grandpa and I were telling Ellen's sister about how people keep questioning my age to drink (I think last night makes 4 times and I've been here 7 days) and we told her the drinking age in America and she got this horrified look on her face.
"But.. when can you vote?"
"18."
"But you can't vote and not be able to drink. Really? I don't believe it."

Neither do I, neither do I. Also, I think the drinking age in America has stunted my growth as far as ordering cocktails is concerned. I always end up ordering something I don't really like because I don't know the names of anything else. Or saying "I'll have what she's/he's having".

I must sign off now. We're heading out to a winery (you obvi. can never have enough wine) and then going to lunch and then boarding the mini-Titanic to Corsica.

A demain! Or the next day.