Not content with a gorgeous day at the Individual Pursuit (Stage 9), the girls were all-a-buzz about the Tour and INSISTED on heading south again to Macon, for the start of Etage Ten. Back down the motorway at 130km+ and a turn off to the east towards Macon. We had programmed a little village along the way into the GPS and thought it would either take us there, or to another good view-point along the way. The latter alternative was how it turned out and the Route Barre sign pulled us up on the outskirts of Saint-Trivier-sur-Moignans, yet another gorgeous village with a main drag lined with enthusiastic, well-behaved and excited TDF afficianados.
We walked along the route through the fan-lined village and took our respective places at different vantage points - me at a corner and the girls further out along the route towards the Jura Mountains. We waited and we waited, until - whoooshhh! Past us they flew. I saw the whites of their eyes, but not much else. They were up out of their saddles, cranking up the big gears and headed out onto the plain leading into the hills. I whispered a quiet wish for a good ride to all the participants. I thought that just wanting the Aussie boys to do well was a bit on the churlish side and hell, they were all doing their very best, weren't they?
We wandered back through the town, which by this time was almost completely deserted and hopped once more into our little Opel and headed westwards up into the Morvan. Our destination was Vezelay, the hill-top tourist town up towards Auxerre. More gorgeous countryside, but also a fair smattering of camion (truck) routes.
Arriving at Vezelay in late evening we found a cute-as-cute hotel at the foot of the hill, booked in and walked up the main drag to a little restaurant I know of near the top. Lovely meal with two lovely girls. We were dining 'al fresco' and during our main course a table inside sang a close-harmony song that melted our hearts. This is the dirt of experience that one comes to expect in Bourgogne and excites disappointment when it doesn't.
Next morning it was "up-and-attem" for me and the girls and we "hot-footed" it up the hill to the Roman Bascilica at the top. Wonderful, marvelous, astounding, though sans the contemplative nun and then brother that I spied lay visit. The view from les remperts of the little village of St Pere and surrounds was gorgeous and you must make a secret pledge to go there. SOON!
Having vacuumed up most of the low-hanging culture in Vezelay, the Three Intrepids headed even further away from Beaune via Bessy-sur-Cure (those of you paying attention in the last blog know that that is the village containing a possible house purchase last trip) to Auxerre. Here we wandered the streets, deciding that though this was a beautiful city in its own right, that Beaune is right for us. Which is all well and good, because 28 Rue de Lorraine Beaune is where we have dropped our anchor.
The day having skipped along much faster than we intended, we hurtled back to aforementioned Beaune along the camion-way, avoiding the wristy-tristy back roads that I love to travel when in the Morvan. NEXT TIME!
A two-day adventure to complete the Groombles-travels of a couple of months ago. Ally and Dear Jude are up to speed on the outlying areas, but are yet to finish off the Beaune experience. That, I strongly argue, would take a lifetime ...
Too Roo for now,
G. Charles Rose
PS Graz has been asking for photos, but we do not have ready access to wi-fi, so photos not possible. Sozzles!