We’re in Bourgogne, well away from the Alps now, in glorious wine country. Vines as far as the eye can see. Lushly green gently undulating hills. Picture postcard pretty.
Along the west we pass Lyon, looking incredibly built up, but oh so lovely. We’ve been twice before and have decided not to stop this time, but I’ll admit to a small pang as we pass, if only for the excellent Paul Bocuse market. And the glorious church that overlooks it. And the shopping. *Sigh*. If there is any truth in travel it’s surely this: you can’t see everything.
Instead, Himself has found an excellent place to stop in amongst the vines with a Cave de Prisse tasting room featuring wines from Prisse and Macon.
Each wine is showcased with its awards, growing conditions, tasting notes and interestingly, a vase of the earth the grapes grew in. There’s quite a remarkable range of soil and rock types – the French take terroir very seriously in wine making.
The rear of the tasting room is glass below which production is in full swing. It’s a modern affair, full of steel barrels. We taste of course and Himself adds to his stockpile. A lovely sticky makes it home too, I’ll just need to find the perfect blue cheese to go with it.
Best of all, the cave is adjacent to a 68 km bike lane though vineyards and villages. Corn and wheat crops sit in sharp contrast to vine plantings along the way. It’s a great excuse to get our bikes out and go for not one, but two bikes rides. One in the morning, the other late afternoon, the latter decidedly ouchy. Those seats are unforgiving when your bottom hasn’t been on them in a while.
Later, I take myself off for a walk through nearby Prisse and make a new, if slightly distrusting, feline buddy, find the old laverie and get an up close view of gardens and vines – still a way off harvest. Birds twitter happily along my way and the thrum of cicadas’ summer chorus fills the air. Extraordinary to consider they wait 17 years to emerge from their pupa stage only to live mere weeks.
Later yet, I prepare Toulouse sausages for dinner with a mustardy onion gravy and butter steamed vegetables. Toulouse sausages are a new find on this trip – Himself is very partial. I feel certain if I was removed from eating decisions, he’d happily eat sausages, peas and mashed potatoes for the rest of time.
All up, it’s a day well spent and thankfully nary a whisper of a long drive.
Miss Baci Travels 