I rose earlier than all the rest at around 7h20 the next morning and quickly got dressed so that I wouldn’t miss the sunrise. It was a magical time to be up and about by oneself, and I set off down the nearest muddy road wrapped up in my scarf and my hands stuffed into my pockets to protect them from the cold wind. The moon was a day away from being full and so it was huge and very bright. I tried to take a picture of it, but as always seems to be the case, it looks rather unimpressive in the photos.
I didn’t go too far as I had to be back for breakfast, but nonetheless it was a cathartic start to my second day in Bourgogne. After a breakfast of chocolate cereal, orange juice, baguette with strawberry jam, and my new favorite, a bowl of coffee, we “headed to the bus” and made our way to Beaune.
While there were many tourists, this was by far my favorite stop. We had five hours to explore and eat lunch, and each of us was set on using every minute. We started with an tour of l’Hôtel Dieu des Hospices Civils de Beaune which was very interesting. It was basically a very nice, very old hospital of sorts run by a duke and tended by nuns. The main hall looked like the nave of a church that was lined on either side with a solid row of partitioned beds in little niches of dark wood with red wool curtains on either side and each set up with warm blankets, a chair, and a small dinner set. At the far end of the hall was the chapel with a huge stained glass window and the whole placed was quite well illuminated because of it. Should I ever become sick, I wouldn’t mind staying in a place like that with nuns in big hats bringing me soup and bread. However, I have a feeling that back in the Middle Ages and Renaissance it was not quite as sanitary or hospitable as it may appear to be now.
We each had our own audio guide, and though given the option to listen in English, we all chose French and were ecstatic that towards the end of the tour our ears were accustomed enough to be able to follow along quite well. There was some rather difficult and specific vocabulary, but thankfully there were a lot of cognates that made it easier. We all agreed at the end of the weekend that this had been one of our favorite stops, and I would suggest it to anyone visiting the area.
The town of Beaune itself is so picturesque and beautiful that we all just wanted to stay and live there forever. We were lucky enough to be there on a Saturday morning when all sorts of vendors brought their wares and goods out onto the streets for a market day. There was tons of fresh produce, cheeses, breads, local honeys, sweets, wines, and street food for sale along with everything from socks to handmade baskets. We all got a bit separated from each other in the busy market, but I think we were all too enthralled to notice. After much wandering we somehow found each other again on a street corner and all set off on a group hunt to find a scarf for one of the guys in the group. He really wanted a scarf, but it is surprisingly hard to find scarves for men and we were unsuccessful. It was getting around lunch time and so most of us went in search of a café. Three of us including myself, however, had seen a small sign for a Salvador Dali museum and were interested in seeing it first.
The bizarre thing about France so far, is that tucked into the smallest, most out of the way places are some of the finest collections of great artists that I have ever seen. This little museum that appeared to only get a handful of visitors a day, had more than 180 original works by Dali ranging from preliminary sketches to sculptures, photos, tapestries, paintings, lithographs, personal documents, and dishware. It was such a wonderful museum and we all knew the moment we walked in that it was worth the 5€ admission. Most of the really large and famous art museums that I have been to have 3-4 works by Dali, but there we were in this tiny town, and it almost looked like they were running out of space to put the sheer number of objects.
Pretty soon after entering, Dali became one of my new favorite artists and now I wish I could take a class just on Dali this semester. Alas, I don’t think that will happen. Seeing one artist’s works in mass makes one realize that that is the only way to really get a grasp for an artist. Sure we all know the melting clocks painting, but Dali was so much more than that, and I hadn’t realized it before because every time I had studied him in school, I had studied two or three that were basically the same. However, when you see one piece after the other you begin to spot trends in subject and form across different mediums and you get a much more intimate look at the artist’s thought process.
Take Piet Mondrian for example. Having had to study his life’s work this past spring I became quite familiar with his “style”. Google his name and up pops thousands of pictures of his geometric black and white lines filled with spots of primary colors. However, those works that he is most known for make up a rather small percentage of his paintings and in reality he started off as a rather traditional Dutch landscape painter. Just seeing his most famous works from the very end of his life, one cannot understand them fully without having a prior knowledge of his evolution from sunflowers and windmills to absolute abstraction. Well, enough of that…
After the museum, we split up for lunch. Me and this other girl were the only ones who wanted to eat at the market, so the rest went to a café for a sit-down meal. We figured that it would be way more fun, less money, and a better French experience if we bought a few things from the market and then found a bench with a spot in the sun. We decided that bread, cheese, and fruit were the way to go, so we walked around until we found the perfect loaf of crusty bread, a round of fresh goat cheese the size of a biscuit, a pear, and a peach. We wandered around looking for the perfect spot and found one on a bench under a huge mossy tree next to the main church. It was so relaxing and we sat there for an hour just eating and talking and helping the random lost tourist who thought that we were locals. As far as cost-benefit goes, we hit the jackpot. For a total of €1.40 each, we feasted.
Dead fly on church door
More verdant things
Back on the bus we headed in the direction of Dijon to drive the Route des Grands Crus, a tour of some of the most beautiful wine country; just field after field of vines as far as the eye could see. We were fortunate enough to be their during one the 3-4 weeks in the year when they harvest the grapes and many of the fields were speckled with groups of field workers, their backs loaded down with huge baskets of grapes. It was very cool. The even cooler part was that at one point, Bernard stopped the bus by a field of vines and we all got off and were basically told that we could walk wherever we wanted and taste the grapes along the way. After our initial hesitation, we all spread out amongst the vines munching on grapes and taking pictures. It was very cool as well.
Yours truly
The second tasting was by far my favorite at it took place in an ancient cave/wine cellar. Blandine and François Rocault were the 17th generation of wine makers and their family had been in Bourgogne since the XIII century, so who knows how long this cellar had been in use. They were such a nice couple, knew so much about their craft, and were excited to share it with us. I know so little about wines that I felt bad attempting to appreciate them, but François was very philosophical about how everyone’s palettes are different and thus there are no right or wrong answers or opinions. He kept grabbing new bottles for us to sample and I lost count around nine, but after the first one, I settled for one sip of each followed by a lot of swirling and sniffing before pouring the rest in the little bucket. One other girl did the same, but the rest were a bit red in the face and quite happy by the time we left.
It was a cool night, the moon was huge, and our gîte was only about ten minutes away on top of the hill, so we decided to walk back which felt good but left us even more hungry than before. A warm dinner led to a warm shower and finally collapsing into bed around midnight. Sorry this is such a long post, but it was a really good day.
-Kate Alice
No comments:
Post a Comment