France 2025

Woke to rain, a light pitter patter from the window, glistening cobblestones, the promise of a marche of good repute, the idea of more fromage.

Ooops, gotta get the coffee ...🤩

Mission II: buy some fresh fruit and veggies for the weekend; scour for Brocante treasure; and a lilttle cheese, charcuterie and pastry would not go astray. Walk a little more of the town. So off we go, bags optimistically held, to achieve the mission goals.

But first, negotiate some beautiful stairs and ambience:

Karen found a little patch of Brocante heaven. We arrived early to find one purveyor going through a box of small jewellery and who was happy for customers to join him. I think it is primal and instinctive. Put straw beneath a chooky's foot and it has to scratch, no choice. Put small sparkly shiny metallic stuff in a pile and and the dominant hand has to scratch.

Efforts resulted in the recovery of some Pierre Lang (🤷) jewellry. For those in the know 🤩 . Well done.

Some really nice produce ...

Clouds became bored, sun snuck through, feet walkd home, lunch arrived, lunch again ingurgitated happily.

A quiet reflective writing kind of afternoon followed then a second walk through the town. Karen chanced upon a hat store "Chapellerie Vincent" and optimistically thought I might like to see the hats. You see my cheap hap was looking excessively meh. I rocked up and then two hats later i was smiling.

With that we followed signage to an art exhibition and viewed some exciting work by Sandrine Boitton using photosensitive chemicals, special paper, leaves and flowers and some time in the sun as part of her repertoire.

Next door was some interesting sculpture but only a few exhibits.

Radishes like to dive head first into butter and pepper and then be eaten. A long slice of 24 month aged comte likes to watch.

Homesick bunnys like to snuggle into comforting closeness.

Tiring eyelids like to surrender.
zz zzz zzzzz z zz zzz zzzzz etc

Woke with mixed feelings of our last full day in Beaune.

Slow, soulful wake, coffee, shower, dress, plan, eat. Second coffee 'cause.

Karen headed off for the Sunday Brocante and Antique market or stalls in Les Halles to find some interesting odds and ends. The French wander and ponder around stalls like us Aussies and like us Foreigners too.

After a couple of purchases we head homewards and with 30 minutes before closing we were told we were not wanted by a posh restaurant for lunch. Later checking their prices we found they were correct in reverse. We found an open for long enough bar and restaurant with a nice proportion of French language.

After enjoying an unrushed lunch we found the local Nicholas store, a more friendly and discerning liqour outlet than the supplier squeezing likes of Mr D.M.

Our dude was ever so chatty and spoke better english than our French. So we exchanged conversation and wine thoughts and discovered that Nicholas is a franchise but the store owners are encouraged to make use of local knowledge and stock wines of their choice as well. We wanted to take a champagne to Lyon so he helped us find one within our price bracket. A young customer wandered in and we were happy to let him pay for his beer. After asking the owner as wise question it was confirmed that he can drink beer in public, "just be sensible". We learned that there are a small number of wine producing areas in Texas and he learned that older Aussies can be funny and bright.

We went home, without drinking a public beer ...

relaxed, wrote, contemplated next stop Lyon, ate, drank, drank again but not drunk. We decided to save the champagne for Lyon. Maybe we sms'd our Texan friend to say older Aussies also have legendary self discipline. Maybe we didn't. Maybe we couldn't find the phones. Maybe we fell asleep on the sofa. Maybe we fell properly aligned upon the bed. Maybe you will never know.

Ya know, sometimes it is better to NOT brush your teeth before you hit the sack. This way you can wake with the reminder of the tasty meal from the day before. And thus i did.😬

As we moseyed after the wake, coffee, but before the shower, dress routine we brain-waved together. Yes, let's walk off the result of our edacious ways [you really should have a dictionary near you when writing and reading - 'edacious' is an apt and unusual word these days]. Eventually i hope to consume words as i am want to consume good food.

All that meant is we would train to a nearby station of a nearby village of Pommard highly recommended to us by David Lloyd for a particular restaurant and several houses of fine Burgundy wine. We walked ALL the way down to Beaune station to find out why some people do their homework. No bloody train. We assumed their would be taxis waiting. Yes, but only when the trains are coming in. Derr big boy.

So we walked off to locate the good old reliable Office de Tourisme and a helpful young person wanted to help two not quite as young people on their way.

Whilst we warted outside we admired the work of the artist we had modelled for in 2010 nd he crafted this sculpture of us. Really he did.

The taxi man was not related by craft to any Parisian and we had a pleasant trip to Pommard. Speeds were slow enough to take this ...

We disembarked at the Chateau Pommard and talked with the receptionist there pondered but decided not to embrace a tour.

We walked through the little town in a trice to locate that restaurant, J M Boillot, for lunch.

Found it and settled for an indoor table as the outside table was occupied by 6 over loud foreigners. We then felt like we had restauranteur-assistant, and vineyard worker all to our selves. We sidled up to his passion for his craft and their wine.

We chose from a small range of nibbles, fromage et charcuterie; chose 3 glasses in turn to drift along with the food and talked and chatted and learned a nice amount about Bourgogne. We enjoyed a Pommard 1^er Cru Les Jarollieres 2018. Yep, delicious, but you koew that.

Just an idea, pull one of your premier cru out of the cellar, find the lounge and sip away and be educated ...

(Hmmm, looks like Vimeo did some unexpected auto-translate ... )

Feeling replete and complete it was not appropriate to make a bed upon the table so we decided to walk the 4 km back to Beaune. Good choice! The walk along the cycle way between the towns was scenic, slow, sensory and bought us a little closer to the spirit of the wine, the terroir. Vines were being attended with patience.

Here is some proof of the walk as we aimed towards the spire in the distance.

Eventually home, a tiny bit sore but very smiley as, we kind of pottered, and nibbled and wrote and pondered until the sun set convincingly.

Watch says it is the morning after Anthocyane. But I am still there ... 🤨 I think ... 🤔 ... ? What's that delicious taste in my mouth ?? Hang on, why am I in bed ... oh this just does not make any sense!

Eventually reality dawned and i packed all the lovely thoughts into my memory for a future day.

Oh, yeah, the patisserie! Having showered but now salivating one wonders if the shower was worth it, but together we bravely walked to "Passion Millot". What a great name for a patisserie. I say bravely walked because there is always the risk of utter heartbreak if the pastries let you down.

Oh, well, what can I say. We were uplifted with the total sensory delight of a choc eclair and tarte citron. Oh ! We also bought a baguette traditionale from the baker trading as "La Goût et des Idees" translating as "The Taste and Ideas". Bit like our Parisian heroes at "Du Pain et des Idees".

Today’s ambition was to walk some of the town, visit to the Hotel Dieu - Hospices de Beaune. This was a hospital in Beaune built around 1443 and known as a “palace for the poor” as you will soon see. The story goers that the nuns and others caring for the poor did such a good job that the wealthier would also go. Donations of money, silver goods, etc followed so that the well enough could eat with pewter and silver and have comfortable linen and more. They could be taken care of physically and spiritually in beauty. The Hospices was partly funded through the sales of wine also made nearby

https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hospices_de_Beaune

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hospices_de_Beaune

snuck in a snooze here ...

We walked back along the perimeter of the old wall of the town and contemplated the history of the town and the lives of people in the day.

really intriguing use of surface to channel water on this walkway ...

We were looking forward to dinner at the multiply recommended La Ciboulette which has bee running for years by a hubby and wife and chef partnership serving some traditional dishes and some newbies. They spoke enough english to add to our delightful night.

To quote Karen, she “had an amazing terrine of ham and parsley”. I chose snails in a garlic butter parsley sauce.

We followed with amazing slow cooked rabbit and I ran with langoustine.

Pour moi I chose a cheese platter and Karen an assiette of chocolate. She won that round.

We went with the wine recommendations of the hosts and loved them.

A Belgium couple with great english were seated next to us and a gradual conversation increasingly flowed. They enjoy travelling in Europe cause it is so easy.

Couldn’t wipe the smiles of our faces as we settled onto our pillows. Why would you anyway?

Are you missing ... "woke, watered, coffeed, showered, part breakfasted", and so on?

John and Ingrid made a point of rising early with us as we had a 07h40 train to catch so therefore we planned to leave early to walk to collect luggage from storage very close to the Gare and of course get on the train whilst it was stationary.

So while Karen and I left in tears Ingrid and John were smiling. Were they happy for us and remember the wonderful fun two weeks we had or ... ?

We walked in the rain because we are rainwalkers. Luggage was there, phew. Boarded and found seats. I like to think the train went "Toot toot! Choofa choofa Choofa choofa Choofa choofa Choofa choofa .... Karen said it was diesel.

Some two and a half hours later we arrived in Lyon with enough time to board the train to Beaune. Some 2 hours later we arrived at Beaune. Some 20 minutes later we arrived at our new home to be greeted by our host Patrick who willingly shared much about the area. He went through the booklet which suggested the best emergency services like a boulangerie, boucherie, patissiere, and a few great restaurants.

Our "house" = apartment was originally some rooms in a 17th century building in the old walled part of the town.

atrium ...

view into street ...

grounds tour ...

Are you someone who likes house inspections?

Following Patrick's suggestion we booked a restaurant for the 5th, la Cibouette, and soon wandered in foraging mode for some drinks before dinner. Hint: when wandering through a strange town and searching for some kind of nourishment always tilt your head back a couple of degrees and flare your nostrils so that local cooking smells are noticed early. As a result of Karen's research we also had Anthocyane in mind. She learned the restaurant was small, newish and had a brilliant sommelier. (Has anyone noticed that 'smell' is spread within 'sommelier and does that have a name? )What a find !!

Sommelier and part owner dude spoke heaps better english than our French. He was delighted to suggest some wine and we were delighted with his choices. We thought, na, we'll eat here too. Sometimes we make the best decisions. As a result I had a perfect dish. Remember something is perfect when it can not be improved.

I chose sea bass ceviche with coriander and lime. The bass was cooked perfectly. The combination as well took me beyond foodgasm into a floaty, smiley time-stands-still kinda space ...

Karen chose vinno tonnato with fried capers. Swoonsome as well.

Mains were delicious and the dessert also more delicious because sommelier guy choose Ferme Des Caudaiies L'Ambre 2018. Best dessert wine we have ever tasted.

I think I have a photo of a smile which lasted all 8 hours of sleep.

One more night before we sadly leave our our fellow mischievians. We've had fun.

Here is a fun view from our window ...

Sometimes a slow start after a sleep in sets the day off perfectly and eventually found ourselves descending those lovely stairs.

Out into the weather and toward the VH market we ably trod. Purposefully and without the waste of haste. Therefore we found time for a morning coffee and pondered the rise and fall of all things earthly:

Still loving the Toulousean pink of the bricks ...

and sculpture

As if following a wandering goat we eventually arrived and aptly chose some pastries. Always, always start a market tour, no mater how briefly with a noisette ...

Here is my favourite fish ever. The rouget barbet, red mullet, Delicious, firmish, smokey. Yeeerrrrmmmm.

Wandered again to while away the time back at the Place de Capitole which includes a large square, we found a place to take in the view..

Our intended restaurant experience above the market stalls was not due to open until the sun was in the highest point in the sky. We were immediately below it. (Do you remember the scene in Homer Simpson when Chief Clancy Wiggun announced his location to be ... right under the sun ... ... right ... right now!) That's where we were and that was the signal to return to the hallowed halls of the VH market.

We strode confidently up the stairs. We waited patiently. With aplomb we chose our restaurant, one of several from you can choose as all are in a line along the corridor. The chosen restaurant calls itself Maison Louchabem.

We entered and seated ourselves with dignity. There was a quiet pause as we took it all in. I farted, but quietly. A menu arrived. Choices of drinks and food were made.

Ingrid is the best diplomat. She could get North and South Korea chatting. Our neighbouring table and new quiet Canadian friends took the snapshot.

Karen chose duck and cheese croquettes, Les chose a fine roasted bone marrow dish, we later had steak and foie gras with red wine, John and I had no option but to share a cheese platter (the dairy course) whilst Karen ate into strawberries with whipped cream and flavoured with citrus and basil.

We waddled homeward and Karen and Ingrid found a carousel. They to go the carousel, just the two of them. Round it went with two giggling adults having the time of their lives. To top it off Karen had another France experience. As they were twirling around and up and down a police car stopped and one officer leaned out of the window, smiled and gave them a a thumbs up 👍. It broadened their smiles even more.

After such a filling and delicious lunch and carousel experience we waddled around before purchasing more pastries and bubbles for a light dinner.

Believe or not we made our way home and we know we slept because no one remembers midnight. However, before midnight the thunder that night was loud and fun. Toulouse celebrated our presence with an orchestral and prolonged drum solo of thunder because we are special.