Around Beaune: no cycling

October 21, 2011

WEATHER: Foggy early morning, then sunny, chilly

We woke up to fog and temperatures close to 0 C. Breakfast at the hotel was buffet style at small tables packed into the diminutive wine bar area in the lobby. The food was good, and we marveled that they could fit so many people into such a small space, especially since everyone was getting up and down to serve themselves.

We put on our warmest clothes and headed off on foot along the busy road to the walled city centre. Our destination was the Hospices de Beaune, founded in 1443 by the chancellor of Burgundy and his wife, as a hospital for the poor and needy. The original hospital building, the Hôtel-Dieu, billed as one of the finest examples of French fifteenth-century architecture, is now a museum, although it was used as a hospital until 1971. We were surprised to see busloads of tourists here, including French high school students as well as Germans and Americans. Once again we were glad to be travelling in the off-season, as it was quite easy to avoid the crowds in the large rooms and courtyards of the Hospices. Indoors, we were particularly impressed with the huge Room of the Poors and its two rows of red-blanketed, comfortable-looking beds and cubicles for two, and outdoors with the colourful glazed roof tiles, emblematic of Burgundy, but mostly appearing in the Beaune area. The one-page Wikipedia article (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hospices_de_Beaune) gives a quick and useful summary of these historic buildings.

Room of the Poors. People came here not to be cured, but to wait to die in pleasant surroundings. The past seems strange seen from the present.

Millions of ornate roof tiles on the large buildings.

After several hours in the Hospices, we were ready for lunch. The sun had burned through the fog, although it was still very cold. We found a table in a crowded brasserie in the pedestrianized centre. It was almost the last table and very near the glass front door which was unfortunate, as more lunch-seekers continually held the door open while peering around to see if there was a table available, thereby admitting a constant stream of cold air. We kept our jackets on and enjoyed our quenelles with sauce nantua.

The kitchen in the Hospice. What's in that pot?

Tucked away on a shelf in the pharmacie, Dragon Blood, just the elixir we need for all the cycling still to come.

In the afternoon we walked to the train station at the east side of town. We wanted to know where it was, since we would be taking the train south to Montelimar in a couple of days. We had already purchased our tickets in Dijon, but we double-checked to make sure we would be able to carry our bikes unfolded on this local TER train.

That evening we went back to La Ciboulette for another good dinner with a glass each of the Meursault chardonnay.

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