
Mark biking on down towards Avignon, with 79-year-old Paul keeping pace. Did I mention how impressed I was with a 79-year-old biking with us?!?
We finished the bike trip. As with most biking, the end is a lot the same as the start … you’re biking. Of course here it’s biking on tiny country roads through cute French villages, stopping for spectacular little lunches with great rosé wines and then going out for great dinners (with more wine). Beats the heck out of biking across Nebraska.

Bizarre human statue in Aix-en-Provence, where the students rule. And no, there was no obvious way to figure out how they all stayed aloft.
Now we’ve moved down to Marseille, France’s second-largest city and the biggest port, right on the Mediterranean. Our first impression is pretty good, but no one would ever mistake this for Paris. It’s got a much more exotic feel, with all sorts of North Africans and other Mediterranean types around. Definitely grittier and dirtier than anywhere in France we’ve ever seen so I think we’ll love it. We’re already scouting out the best places for bouillabaisse, the city’s iconic fish stew. I expect we’ll have some pictures soon.