Burgundy

Week 57 — Sept 20th - Oct 5th (Tony).

I haven't died yet; but I've been to Heaven. It's somewhere among the vineyards of Burgundy. Arriving in St Jean de Losne, the boating capital of inland France we were disappointed to find the town much smaller and less interesting than we had imagined and the port was choc-a-bloc with boats of every kind. Many were for sale, whilst others were works-in-progress or awaiting ship builders' attention. And the population of the floating community comprised mainly Brits. We found the atmosphere strangely unwelcoming and I can't imagine a worse place to spend the winter, holed-up in a freezing boat with nothing to do except play bridge or compare notes on the latest BBC soap operas. So we promptly elected to head up the Canal de Bourgogne to Dijon, a two day cruise along a very scenic poplar-lined canal. Dijon turned out to be a delightful city, full of interesting things to see, and of course rich in history as the reigns of successive Dukes of Burgundy predate the sovereignty of France.

We joined a mini-bus tour through the Cotes de Nuits vineyards — an eclectic group comprising a couple from Brazil, Japan, Korea, and us Aussies. The journey took us through villages famous worldwide for their wines, Gevery Chambertin, Vougeot, Fixin, and Nuits St-Georges. The young driver was an outstanding guide and I now know a lot more about the mystery of the great wines of Bourgogne and how their rigid appellations controllés work. I think I can now understand how to read the labels on bottles and distinguish what's likely to be good and what may be rubbish. Pinot Noir has always disappointed — it's never voluptuous enough for my palate — but I now appreciate there is a delicacy and fineness to a good Burgundy, but to find such quality it is unaffordable. Nothing however alters the fact that this area is one of the prettiest in France, if not the world, especially as the autumn tones creep into the leaves of the vines and trees on the hilltops. We were astonished to find that on the day of our tour (24th Sept) the picking of grapes had not begun. This year's harvest is particularly late for some reason. We passed by many famous grand-cru vineyards and observed a few vintners sampling grapes and testing the sugar levels of the juice. We paused to peer over the wall into the 2-3 hectare monopole plot of Vosne-Romanée Conti (photo) where grandad (presumably the owner) was introducing his toddler grand-daughter to the art of grape tasting. It is from these vines that the most expensive wine in the world is produced. There is a five year waiting list for buyers and the price, depending on the quality of the vintage, may range from 3,000€ to 6,000€ a bottle! I declined to place an order as I thought I'd already passed away. I expect it to be free in Heaven.

Such was the pleasure we derived from the bus tour, the next day we took the motor bikes for a run up to the top of the range and back down the same lanes through the vineyards where the picking had started now in earnest. It may look like fun but I can tell you now, picking grapes and hauling the baskets full of bunches back to the trailers waiting for a load to cart to the presses is not easy. After fifteen minutes, merely witnessing the toil in one vineyard, the romance of grape picking dissolved. Much better to be a taster of the finished product!

Christian and Charlotte, our Swiss neighbours from Roanne, arrived in Dijon having come up the Canal de Bourgogne from the other end. For three nights we alternately wined and dined onSable and Kinette, and caught up with each other's adventures over the summer. They will probably not get back to Roanne before we leave for Aus so we may not see them again until next year. Christian has kindly offered to keep an eye on our boat while we're away. Sally's sister, Myra, joined us in Dijon for a second stint at this wonderful cruising life and following a delicious Sunday lunch outdoors at a cafe in the square we set off back down the canal to St J de L and once more into the Saône. We stopped for a nostalgic night in Suerre, for it was here we first sighted Sable last September.

We called into Verdun sur Doubs for an overnight stop. This town also has a rich history of conflict, though not to be confused with the Verdun on the Meuse which was the centre of the bitterest battle of all in WWI. It also houses a fascinating museum devoted to bread making. We continued next day down the Saône, now a very big river indeed, to Chalon. This attractive city deserved a two or three day stopover but the marina staff were most emphatic that boats over 15 m long were not permitted. Despite her professional expertise, Sally's attempt at disembling fell on deaf ears, the Capitainerie having already paced out the length of our boat, but her piteous pleas for somewhere to moor gained us permission to remain for one night only. We felt pleased we hadn't tied-up on the town steps when we discovered next morning two enormous cruise boats had moored there during the night. Capable of carrying more than a hundred passengers each, I presume they must ply the Rhône and Saône from Marseilles to Chalon. We enjoyed exploring the town centre and visited a marvellous museum displaying photographic memorabilia and photos dating back to the originals produced by Niépce, the inventor of photography, who was born here. We would have stayed longer, especially as Chalon seemed to have a plethora of excellent restaurants. We had dinner at one which was very pleasant. The rest will just have to content themselves with the patronage of crews from smaller vessels. As if...

Next morning, we took our leave and turned off the river for the final, yes final, time and entered a 10.7 m lock, the highest we've ever seen, and emerged into the Canal de Centre. Stunningly beautiful, this canal winds its way straight back into the vineyards of Burgundy, albeit of lesser fame, at Chagny and Santenay. Today, we hiked to the top of a hill overlooking Chagny and the vineyards and were astonished to see clearly the high peaks of Switzerland. What a sight! We're now only about a week's cruising away from Roanne. We'll endure another few days of walking round the vineyards and sampling the produce of the region, then we will reluctantly direct Sable to her winter berth.