Avalon was, I think an island in a lake where King Arthur died, after instructing Sir Bedivere to throw his sword, Excalibur, into the lake. Bedivere refused three times, why is it always three?
Also where “The Lady of Shallot” weaved a web and pined for Launcelot, according to Tennyson.
Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Thro’ the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river
Anyway THAT Avalon has only one L, this one has two, and no lake, and no river that I’ve found yet. But it’s a nice town, even sans Arthur.
Got here as follows:
1 Cycle to East Croydon
2 Train to Newhaven
3 Ferry to Dieppe
See you England 
sleepless night, moon over channel 
ferry in .dieppe, 5 a.m.
4 Train to Paris, St. Lazare
5 Cycle to Paris, Gare Bercy.
6 Train to Avallon.
It took about 20 hours and I didn’t get much sleep. Or feel like eating.
But after finding B and B, showr, tea, nap.
I was ready for my first French meal, the restaurant was in a 15 century stone lean-to up against the church walls, I ate outside under thick stone buttresses glowing gold in the evening sun. Raw tuna fish in a cucumber soup, Kidneys in mustard sauce, Raspberry fool, 4 local cheeses. Fantastic.
Now, if I make it I will have over 90km to do tomorrow, 1,700m of climbing. I’ve never done that much, it is necessary because a hotel cancelled my booking. Well, must sleep.
