Saturday, June 2, 2012

Beaune, Bourgogne, France

Takes my breath away.

Circumnavigated les remparts en velos. Slow ride took about half an hour. C. 14th wall. 'Moat' that's now part carpark part gardens. Incredible is the word that keeps coming to mind. Ancient stone walls several feet thick. Turrets, those 'slits' where arrows could be fired at the assaulting enemy. Name escapes me. All so hard to believe now. Drink it in. It's real. The French seem oblivious as they go about their lives, dressed so chic.

Was perusing the bricabrac at the Saturday market here in the centre ville de Beaune. Al was perusing the real-estate in a shop front.

'We could do it, Jules,' he said. 'Swap ours for one here.' I wandered over to the window & briefly, for an instant, entertained the idea. I LOVE this place. It suits me. That is, at the start of summer on a warm blue day on holiday. It's so engulfing. Feel like I'm absorbing richness through my pores. And that's before I get started on Chardonnay.

Not sure I'd manage winter, although the interior of the restaurant at which we had lunch - quiche Lorraine for Al, omelette aux champignons for me - looked very cosy. Suppose I'd sit inside.

I'm like my mother. Lachrymose. The tears come readily here & it's not cos I'm still in the wake of my dad's death, although that's still very present. It's thrown all this splendour into even more relief.

Al's just punctured the mood.

'Good example of why dogs shouldn't be brought into restaurants. It just pissed in the pot-plants.'

1 comment:

  1. Oh yum! Couldn't you be there in summer and then come back home in winter, and do CRT stuff back here. . .no? Maybe it'd work for me then. . . Tell you what, I'll go in with you guys to buy a small place (but big enough for the 3 of us) we can be there in summer, and also be here in summer. Non?