Goodbye to Provence
We were ready to leave by 8.30am this morning, and it was another beautiful day. It was sunny, but the wind was still strong. We said goodbye to Cecile and got rid of our rubbish and recycling at bins near the house (is always on the last day we find useful things!).
Trish had been acting very strangely yesterday, and the map on the screen hadn't shown our correct location. This morning, we programmed her for our next stop on the outskirts of Chalon-Sur-Saone, but she came up with a journey time of five hours, two hours longer than it should be! To get us back onto the autoroute, Sophie programmed our destination into Apple Maps, and before long we were joining the busy A7 and heading north.
The journey to Lyon was not pleasant, mainly because of the strong cross-winds. I was only glad we weren't towing a caravan! Overtaking a lorry (and there were many of them), especially when it had pulled out to overtake another, was hairy, as there is a concrete barrier serving as the central reservation and nowhere to go if they drift into the outside lane. Then, as you pull back in, there is always a "tug", down to the drag, which can be unsettling!
We ploughed on, eating up the distance and counting down in increments of 25 miles. Sophie read in the back and Keith and I chatted, but today's journey was not as long as tomorrow's was going to be! We had booked the Airbnb a bit further south so we could take Sophie to Rully and Mercurey, wine villages Keith and I had visited in the 1990s.
Back to Burgundy
Despite the journey being difficult, the road through Lyon was quick and smooth, thank goodness, and the sun was shining on the broad Rhone River which we crossed several times. Once past Lyon, the roads became quieter and much more pleasant.
Sophie's Apple Maps took us straight to the house we were renting for the night, but it was too early for us to check in. The house looked lovely and the neighbourhood was pretty and seemed quiet. We then programmed the wine village of Rully into the maps and set off across wide-open farmland.
Keith and I had been fans of the red wine ever since drinking it at a local restaurant years ago. The man running the restaurant wouldn't tell us where he bought it from, and it's quite rare to see red Rully in this country. The French must keep it all to themselves!
In 1993, we were holidaying in Burgundy and spotted the sign, so I remember us veering across the road and staying at a hotel for two nights. On the second night, the owners had gone to a wedding, leaving us all alone and trusting us with their business and countless bottles of wine! Keith had broken his arm playing five-a-side football, and was suffering from gout at the time, and couldn't drink because of the medication he was on, so I was able to indulge in the wine when we had a meal in the hotel's restaurant!
We drove into the village, wondering whether the Hotel Commercial was still in business. Amazingly, it was, but under a different name - Le Vendangerot, which I think means the harvest of grapes in French. Quite fitting!
A couple and a solitary man were sitting outside eating, and we took a seat near the entrance door. I asked about a menu and a gormless waiter muttered something and disappeared back inside. It was 1.15pm so we hoped we weren't too late for the lunch service!
He came back with the menus and asked if we wanted a drink so we ordered a beer apiece and sat back to choose from the menu and enjoy the warm sun. We had seen the 19.50 euro meal of the day, so chose that. The waiter returned and said the starter was vegetable soup, followed by hake.
The couple behind us were finishing their meal and were Dutch, I think. The man at the next table (early 60s, gruff, coughing, and as weathered as an old vine) was definitely French and was gradually sinking a whole bottle of Provencal Rosé, whilst chain-smoking cigarettes. We all had the same opinion: that he was a local who visited every day for his three-course set lunch.
Our waiter was, quite frankly, a little weird. He brought out place mats, cutlery and glasses, then our drinks and then a basket of cheesy scones with olives. There was no eye contact and he repeated everything we asked for in a strange little monotone! He was exactly the same with the French man, who finished his latest cigarette, drained his wine and then got into a van and drove away! We were all a little amazed and I did wonder whether half of the bottle of wine was leftover from a previous lunch, but I have a feeling he drank a whole bottle in one sitting!
Our starter of soup arrived and was delicious, and topped with crisps. We all had the same feeling that we had surprised the chef, who thought that service was finished, and he had cobbled together a meal for us! The main course was a fillet of hake served with a sauce very similar to the soup but with a little more bite, and plain boiled potatoes. No vegetables.
It was a good meal and certainly served its purpose. We didn't want to go out for dinner tonight, in a town we'd never been to before, and we were looking forward to a bottle of wine and a beer, and a game of Scrabble!
The pudding was equally delicious - a kind of chocolate mousse mixed with sponge. It was very filling! Keith and I went inside to pay the bill and we both recognised the interior of the hotel. Back in the 1990s, the inside was darker and there were bottles of wine, even some Jeroboams and Magnums, everywhere! Keith recognised the steep stairs we had to navigate to get to our tiny room on the top floor, which had views over vineyards. I so wish I'd kept a diary back then!
After paying, we wandered around the square, peering into closed businesses, but finding a smart wine shop selling local bottles. The man running it was quite suave and sophisticated and spoke good English, so it was great to have a chat and taste a Rully. Sophie and I bought a bottle each to add to the cache in the boot of the car and we paid and left, deciding to head for the chateau and then the village of Mercurey nearby.
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| I remember this from 1993 |
The back of beyond
I just knew that asking Trish for directions to Mercurey would result in a journey on tiny roads again, and she really excelled herself today by managing to find a dirt track to take me onto!
We headed upwards, out of the village, to see the chateau, which was crumbling, but still beautiful.
There were vines stretching as far as the eye could see, in all directions. It truly was a wine lover's dream landscape! The grapes had all been picked and the leaves were turning a beautiful bronze colour.
The road we were on was narrow, just the width of the car, and I dreaded meeting one of the huge tractor and trailer combinations we'd seen driving through the village! Luckily, we didn't meet another soul and the tarmac road soon degenerated into a stony track with potholes and other dangers that could have spelled disaster for our holiday! I was not happy, but Keith and Sophie urged me on, saying we were on the right road to Mercurey.
Worries aside, the landscape was gorgeous with gently rolling hills, acre upon acre of vines, and peace. It was the ideal place for a picnic. I can see why people visit to go walking or cycling because there was little traffic and just beautiful surroundings, interspersed with pretty villages selling wine! What's not to like?!
We entered Mercurey and there were signs saying which producers owned the parcels of land. A lot were Premier Cru, one of the highest accolades of wine made (the top-rated wine is a Grand Cru).
Keith and I had stayed at a hotel in Mercurey in 1994 and it was a blisteringly hot holiday. We visited the region, including the lovely town of Beaune, and bought lots of wine to take home. The hotel we stayed in, The Val D'Or, was still in business and we parked opposite to have a wander around.
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| Burgundian houses |
Keith wasn't keen on wandering around, and after looking for public loos, we gave up and went back to the car. Sophie asked Apple Maps to find us a supermarket, and there was a Carrefour on the outskirts of Chalon-sur-Saone, a short drive away.
On the way, we saw more farmland and little villages. I said to Sophie I'd love to visit Burgundy in the winter, drink hearty red wine, eat casseroles and cosy up to a log fire! I was starting to think that this region was my favourite in France!
We found the supermarket in a busy retail park and used the smelly facilities! Needs must! We had a good look at the wines for sale and Keith bought a Mercurey to take home to England. Sophie and I picked out a red for this evening and we noticed the aisles full of Halloween produce for sale. It's that time of the year!
Our hosts had asked us to message them when we were half an hour away, so we sent them a text and made our way back to the house. Isabelle met us and was very friendly and helpful, pointing out places to see in Chalon-sur-Saone and giving us restaurant recommendations. I hadn't the heart to tell her we had no intention of going out and had planned a relaxing evening of doing very little!
We were able to park inside the grounds of the house and took out the bags we needed for our night's stay. The Airbnb had three bedrooms, a spacious kitchen, an open-plan dining/living room and a large bathroom. Outside, there was a lovely seating area and I just wished we were staying longer, and it was a bit warmer!
Our evening was spent playing Scrabble, drinking wine and beer and snacking on Cracksters (we'd bought more in the Carrefour tonight, enough to last me to January!). I'm not the only one who likes them! Mooney does as well!
After playing Scrabble, we logged onto Netflix again and watched a documentary about Harry and Meghan, which was a bit vomit-inducing... Before we retired for the night, we watched a silly French quiz show. We didn't have a clue what was going on, but it looked fun!
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