KEY POINTS:
In the end I didn't dance on the 900-year-old bridge at Avignon. I had planned to because of the many times I - along with millions of other schoolkids of my era - was required to sing "Sur le pont d'Avignon, l'on i danser, l'on i danser" without having the faintest idea what it was all about.
Now I was actually in the ancient French city of Avignon I planned to find that bridge, discover why people danced on it and - despite my well-established lack of rhythm - do a bit of dancing "tous en rond".
Finding the bridge was easy. It is one of the major tourist attractions of the city - along with the palaces, fortifications and churches which signal that from 1309 to 1377 Avignon replaced Rome as home to the Pope - and it is signposted on nearly every corner.
But when my wife and I arrived at the bridge it seemed rather too short and narrow to have ever served as a major dance venue. It ran from the old city wall, across a busy motorway, halfway over the mighty River Rhone . . . then stopped. I'd say anyone planning to hold a dance there would quickly run afoul of OSH.
Fortunately, admission to the bridge came with an excellent audio-guide which revealed all, including the fact it is known locally as Pont St-Benezet in memory of a shepherd boy called Benezet who arrived at the city some time around 1170 and announced that he had been told by angels to build a bridge here.
Needless to say the locals mocked - clearly the river was far too wide to be bridged - until the shepherd boy demonstrated his divine backing by lifting a huge block of stone, the city leaders rushed to embrace the idea and 15 years later the bridge was complete, 900m long and with 22 arches.
For several centuries this was the only crossing on the lower Rhone and the crenellated walls, lofty towers and huge stone gatehouse that we had to pass through to get on to the bridge showed how powerfully it was defended.
There was also a small chapel on the first of the massive piers which support the bridge and the audio-guide explained that this is where St Benezet was interred after his death. The chapel was actually dedicated to St Nicholas, the patron saint of the Rhone boatmen, and they used to worship here until the local priests decided the bridge was not safe to use.
As we walked across three spans which are all that remain we learned that over the centuries enemy invaders - notably King Louis VIII of France - and powerful floods damaged the bridge so severely that in 1611 the locals finally gave up making repairs and it was abandoned.
But, still, the influence of the song obviously remained strong, because as we walked to the end I could hear other tourists - by the looks of them from all round the world - were humming the song or talking about it. Maybe if I did a little dance they would all join in?
Luckily, before I made a fool of myself, the audio guide intervened, explaining that actually people had never danced here. In its heyday the bridge actually ran over a large island, the Ile de Barthelasse, which was a popular place for recreation, including folk dancing.
When it was written in the 16th century the song apparently said "sous le pont" - ie under the bridge - because that was where the people danced. The present wording was introduced only 150 years ago when the song, with a different tune, was included in an operetta and became immediately popular.
Whew, I'm glad I found that out in time. Instead of dancing I admired the wonderful views of the river, bustling with boats and waterbirds, and Avignon, bristling with stone towers, steeples and, dominating the city, the enormous bulk of the Palace of the Popes.
This boasts being the largest gothic palace in Europe - covering 11,000 square metres - and, with its towering walls, enormous halls, lofty towers and rows of battlements, it is easy to believe.
Unfortunately, while the shell of the palace is intact, not much else remains of the period when the Popes and their entourage lived here in luxury. It fell into disrepair after the papal court moved back to Rome, was gutted of all its furniture, frescoes, tapestries, paintings and sculpture during the French Revolution and stripped of even the timber lining when used as a stables by soldiers of the Napoleonic Empire.
So, while the excellent audio guide was able to tell us that this was the chamber where the cardinals met to elect a new pope, here the Pope received visiting dignatories and this huge hall was the grand chapel, there is little beyond their great size to hint at the pageantry which once occurred here.
The Cathedral of Notre Dame des Doms, next door to the palace, appears to have fared better, though it, too, was sacked during the revolution.
It was originally built in the 12th century but, unsurprisingly, was rather overshadowed by the huge palace next door, so successive bishops added a Byzantine-style cupola, ornate baroque galleries and, on the top of the tower, a huge gilded statue of the Virgin Mary.
Inside there's plenty of religious art - paintings, tapestries and sculptures - but best of all are the tombs of some of the Avignon popes, especially the incredibly ornate mausoleum of Pope John XXII.
Avignon has lots more churches, palaces, museums and art galleries to see but, despite the fascination of the bridge and the great palace, we didn't really like the city.
For one thing, the idiosyncratic opening hours adopted by state-owned tourist attractions meant that whenever we decided we'd like to see something it would almost inevitably be closed. For another, the city streets were extraordinarily dirty, dog droppings were everywhere and the doorways smelled of urine.
Luckily, getting away from it all was easy, we just walked over one of the new bridges, crossing both arms of the Rhone and the Isle de Bathelasse in between, to the city of Villeneuve-les-Avignon which grew up at the far end of the Pont St-Benezet and is well worth a visit in its own right.
The entrance to Villeneuve is guarded by the 30m tall Tower of Philippe le Bel, named after the king of France who built it in the 13th century, who was so handsome he was called Philip the Fair. The tower is quite nice looking too, and has great views of the river from the top.
The old part of Villeneuve is also delightful, much nicer than Avignon, with quaint, narrow, clean and largely traffic-free streets lined with lots of delightful old houses, venerable churches, inviting cafes and tranquil courtyards.
One of the highlights is the monastery of La Chartreuse Dame du val de Benediction, a vast sprawling structure with no less than three cloisters, once the largest Carthusian Monastery in France.
This was built by Pope Innocent VI, one of the seven popes to sit in Avignon, who marked his election to the Throne of Peter by giving his house and lands at Villeneuve to fund a monastery. Not surprisingly Innocent took a close interest in his monastery and at his request was buried there.
The complex was also sacked during the French Revolution, and the Pope's memorial removed, but it was returned in 1959 and we were able to admire its ornate carving through a protective iron grille.
Today the monastery is preserved as a combination historic site and arts centre which has resulted in an extraordinary combination of fascinating reminders of monastic life and bizarre examples of the strange pathways often taken by modern art.
In the charming old church, for instance - whose poignant atmosphere is increased by the way a collapsed apse lets in rays of sunlight - pride of place was taken by a giant wooden bulldozer, on display as part of some exhibition.
And a cluster of monk's cells, retained to allow visitors to get a feel for what conditions were like in centuries past, were occupied by a series of artworks featuring large wooden dildos with monk's heads. We weren't the only visitors to find it all a little strange.
The other highlight of Villneuve is St-Andrew Fort, which squats on the hill above the town, its 700-year-old walls - forming a circle some 800m in diameter, more than 2m thick and up to 15m high - enclosing a delightful mix of walled gardens, crenellated towers, picturesque houses and a tiny church.
It was a great place to explore - once the custodians returned from their extended lunch break - but once again the reminders of medieval times were mingled with strange modern artworks including some truly awful paintings and a giant revolving pink elephant (I kid you not).
On the way back we stopped off at the Ile de Barthelasse, these days a delightful park, and joined the locals in strolling down the river bank, admiring the grace of the swans and ducks cruising its waters, and sitting in the sun.
We chatted in pidgin French to an old lady who shared a seat with us and was delighted to share her love of her little dog, watched a visiting group of German students showing off their bodies and enjoyed the family groups playing on the grass.
Then, when no one was looking, I sneaked behind the concrete pier supporting the bridge, and did a little dance, humming to myself, "Sur le pont d'Avignon . . . ." I thought I was quite elegant but as luck would have it there was no one I could ask for confirmation.
My French teacher was never very impressed with my knowledge of the language but I'm sure she'd be pleased that I took the song so seriously.
Jim Eagles got to Europe with help from Air New Zealand but paid his own way in Avignon.
HOW TO GET THERE:
Air New Zealand flies daily via Hong Kong or Los Angeles to London with connections to the rest of Europe with its Star Alliance partners. For further information, visit www.airnz.co.nz.
WHERE TO STAY:
House of Travel has land-only packages from $507 per person which include three nights accommodation at Hotel de l'Horloge and a tour visiting the Roman sites of the Avignon region. See www.houseoftravel.co.nz/avignon.
FURTHER INFORMATION:
Local websites include www.avignon-tourisme.com/index-en.htm, www.avignon-et-provence.com/provence-tourism.htm and www.ot-avignon.fr/pages-en/home.htm
