We arrive in Piolenc which is close to Orange, in Provence. We are staying at a small inn called the L’Orangerie; to get there we must drive down streets that were made for one guy on a skinny horse, not for ou Rav4 – and to make matters worse they are two way streets. Not that you could or would possibly drive two cars on them at the same time, just that you have to develop some sort of innate sense of when someone might have chosen to drive on your street the other way. If you have not yet honed your tiny-street-driving-sense, you had better hope there are no other tourists around that have no car coming in the other direction radar or you will have to back up. We pull into a beautiful little courtyard off of a tiny street and see our lovely little hotel. The architecture is so different from the German. In Germany it is all old buildings with red tiled roofs and wooden accessories. These building seem to be some kind of light yellowish sandstone and blocks of stone mortared together, with wrought iron filigree making all off the accoutrements from chairs to
disease it is quite lovely if slightly spare. The European bathroom disease is a terrible affliction you should make sure your bathroom avoids at all cost, unless you are some kind of martyr that enjoys showering in a plastic box the size of a small coat closet. Showering in these boxes you are constantly challenged to a race with the water seeing who can finish first and thereby prevent the other from reaching their goal. The water will try to fill up the bottom of the plastic box and you will try to get all of the shampoo out of your hair before the bottom of the box is filled with water forcing you to turn off the shower. The malady also can include a balconies. We head in and our porter takes us up two flights of stairs to our room. The staircase, with wrought iron banister, is the kind you would have expected in John Astor’s house or maybe one of the Rockefeller's – for sure it was very grand when this ancient house was first built. Our room is at the top floor and aside from suffering the European bathroom lingering sent of sewage coursing through the air. A very common symptom that accompanies the unreasonable time required to flush the toilet, you will need to perform the flushing action 3-5 times in order for it to work. It requires 7-10 minutes to refill the tank between flushes which is strange since there is never enough water to actually make the toilet flush. At any rate, if this is not your idea of fun you should inoculate your
bathroom against this ailment as soon as you can or when you start noticing signs of it behaving badly – toilets getting finicky, shower looking to race you by starting to fill up, that kind of thing, consult a professional immediately! Although we have ordered a triple we are given two separate rooms, which is a nice touch. The set-up implies that it could have been someone’s apartment with a dressing room attached, or perhaps servants quarters, or perhaps I am just being melodramatic. But it is like we have a tiny apartment. The only draw back – a church bell that seems to ring all night long and the tiny street outside that sounds like giant trash trucks are picking up every night after 1 AM or so. But, in general the dark wood and the hominess of the room are really quite pleasant.
We arrive in Piolenc which is close to Orange, in Provence. We are staying at a small inn called the L’Orangerie; to get there we must drive down streets that were made for one guy on a skinny horse, not for ou Rav4 – and to make matters worse they are two way streets. Not that you could or would possibly drive two cars on them at the same time, just that you have to develop some sort of innate sense of when someone might have chosen to drive on your street the other way. If you have not yet honed your tiny-street-driving-sense, you had better hope there are no other tourists around that have no car coming in the other direction radar or you will have to back up. We pull into a beautiful little courtyard off of a tiny street and see our lovely little hotel. The architecture is so different from the German. In Germany it is all old buildings with red tiled roofs and wooden accessories. These building seem to be some kind of light yellowish sandstone and blocks of stone mortared together, with wrought iron filigree making all off the accoutrements from chairs to
disease it is quite lovely if slightly spare. The European bathroom disease is a terrible affliction you should make sure your bathroom avoids at all cost, unless you are some kind of martyr that enjoys showering in a plastic box the size of a small coat closet. Showering in these boxes you are constantly challenged to a race with the water seeing who can finish first and thereby prevent the other from reaching their goal. The water will try to fill up the bottom of the plastic box and you will try to get all of the shampoo out of your hair before the bottom of the box is filled with water forcing you to turn off the shower. The malady also can include a balconies. We head in and our porter takes us up two flights of stairs to our room. The staircase, with wrought iron banister, is the kind you would have expected in John Astor’s house or maybe one of the Rockefeller's – for sure it was very grand when this ancient house was first built. Our room is at the top floor and aside from suffering the European bathroom lingering sent of sewage coursing through the air. A very common symptom that accompanies the unreasonable time required to flush the toilet, you will need to perform the flushing action 3-5 times in order for it to work. It requires 7-10 minutes to refill the tank between flushes which is strange since there is never enough water to actually make the toilet flush. At any rate, if this is not your idea of fun you should inoculate your 
bathroom against this ailment as soon as you can or when you start noticing signs of it behaving badly – toilets getting finicky, shower looking to race you by starting to fill up, that kind of thing, consult a professional immediately! Although we have ordered a triple we are given two separate rooms, which is a nice touch. The set-up implies that it could have been someone’s apartment with a dressing room attached, or perhaps servants quarters, or perhaps I am just being melodramatic. But it is like we have a tiny apartment. The only draw back – a church bell that seems to ring all night long and the tiny street outside that sounds like giant trash trucks are picking up every night after 1 AM or so. But, in general the dark wood and the hominess of the room are really quite pleasant.
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