The Beaujolais Trail

Monday, September 09, 2013

Still so sad to be out of those mountains, but we embarked on a new adventure this afternoon on the way from Lyon to Dijon.  I mentioned in yesterday’s post that this was Beaujolais country, and the tourist office has created what is called “Rue de Beaujolais”—a twisting tour through miles and miles of vineyards

and small villages, some with just a church, a bar, and a narrow road running among a few houses (mostly made of sandstones). 



All vineyards in this area produce the grapes used for making the fruity Beaujolais wine, which is the most valuable and supposedly tastes the best when it’s newly bottled.  Unlike other wines that getter better with age, this vin nouveau, as it is often called, is most sought after by connoisseurs when it is first bottled.  We spent a couple hours this afternoon rambling on this course.  We got lost a few times but figured it out.

One thing that we noticed was the lack of activity along the trail--a car here and there, an occasional vintner trimming his vines, but little other movement.  We stopped in a quiet village, Le Perreon, because we saw a tavern-type restaurant that had its doors open, and we were hungry.  Typically, in Europe, the restaurants do not serve lunch after 2—at least that’s been our experience.  By then it was about 2:15.  The owner and his wife, who was British, offered to make us ham and cheese sandwiches.  She served Robin a glass of fresh Beaujolais and me some water; he sliced a hunk of baked ham and some mild white cheese for each sandwich, topped it with a delicious salad with a balsamic-type dressing, and put each on a small loaf of French bread. It was delicious, although I had to remove the top of the bread because it was just too much.  We had a good chat with the proprietors and spent a little time enjoying that rural community.



At La Perreon--notice the vineyards in the background

   

A stately two-story pink building with beautiful flower boxes at each window stood across from the restaurant.  We thought it was a posh hotel; we learned that it was the town hall—in this tiny community, and there was no activity going on there at all.

 

 

 

When the route through the Beaujolais area ended, we hopped back on the toll road and ended up in Dijon.  Driving in foreign cities is so crazy!  Samantha helped us find the hotel, and we carefully avoided the trolley tracks; however, when you find your hotel in a city, there is no place to pull over and let them know you are there and find out where to park.  After a couple tours around several blocks, we saw a parking sign for the hotel and pulled down into what felt like a pit to me.  After we were committed to being down there and another car was behind us, we realized we had to call the front desk through an intercom to be allowed access.  It’s hard to be in places when you don’t know what to do and you don’t understand the spoken language very well.

Upon entering our room here in this very modern, well-decorated hotel, my first thought was House Hunters International.  I remember seeing people move to Europe and for huge sums of money get to live in a 700-square-foot apartment.  If this room is 11 x 11, I would be surprised.  The up-to-date room and bathroom are even smaller than yesterday’s; however, they are much nicer.  We’re across from the train station, and the trolleys go by under our window, and it’s noisy, and we’re thinking about our accommodations up in the Alps and wondering how we got here.  And now we’re in the Burgundy area of France.  We’ll see what tomorrow brings.



A typical "roundabout" that we have encountered in the center of most roads