October 2, 2024
Day 54: Dijon to Beaune
Humpty Dumpty
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We arranged a wonderful meet up with Keith and Susan Klein for today. Keith is the author of seventeen blogs on Cycleblaze. Keith and Susan live in Gevrey Chambertin, right in the middle of the Grand Cru wine area of Burgundy. Gevrey is just 18 km south of Dijon and directly on our route to boot. A get together was therefore a foregone conclusion. Keith and Susan suggested that we all visit a bistro nearby their place , so that would put the timing about noon. Noon was good timing, because it gave us a chance to perhaps tick off some of the more remote things to see, as recommended for Dijon by GPSMyCity.
The first thing, of course, would be the cathedral. Someone had carelessly sited this huge pile of stone slightly outside of downtown, with that prime central spot taken by the deceptively named Eglise Notre Dame de Dijon. Our spot today would be Cathedrale Saint Benigne de Dijon. Got it!
The first thing we actually saw out of gate was the Maille mustard shop, or maybe headquarters. With Dijon mustard at home we were familiar with Maille, and also Grey Poupon. Maille claims to stem from 1723 while Grey Poupon only mentions 1866. That gives them just 158 years of experience, so, dunno. Also, they were bought out by Kraft Foods, so that may leave Maille as the one with the most prestige. Frankly, though, we rather like the basic bright yellow mustard. Sabrina somehow landed a big pile of it from the Montreal Hebrew Delicatessen, and that remains our standard. Sorry Dijon!
Well here is the cathedral, closed at this hour. I'm sure some will quibble with the tower being cut off. But you can see the fancy lower roofs. Tgherer was actually no way to stand far enough back in the street to get the whole building.
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Despite all the interesting details we had read about the cathedral interior, we were forced to move on to our next big thing. The was the "Arquebuse" botanical garden. This is said to have 4,000 plant species, and we found them to be very well labelled. This would normally be a big wow for us, but I admit I was tired this day (or more like sick, and tired) and I focussed on the promise in the literature of various species of wild ducks, geese, and swans.
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As you see from the map, the garden is moderately sized, and does have those water features. But sadly all we found there were a few Mallards.
We did still like all the good plant labelling. And below, for example, you see many varieties of grapes, with one plant per variety, and well labelled.
They also had a beginners guide to varieties. This was helpful to us, allowing us to be sure we were looking at Pinot Noir, near Gevrey-Chambertin.
With the apparent lack of ducks, and with me feeling what some expedition members were beginning to call "grumpy", we left behind the 4000 species and looked for our next big thing.
That thing seemed to be the glitzy "City of Gastronomy and Wine". My (grumpy) assessment here differs from that of the ever ebullient Dodie. It struck me that someone figured out that France has a great thing going with food and cooking (true enough) so why not make a sort of theme park out of it. We can have talks by famous chefs, cooking classes, kitchen shops, and a variety of restaurants all in the same place! So voila, the City of Gastronomy!
Mr. Grumpy thinks that the French food thing is an organic entity, living free in the many bakeries, restaurants, markets, and farms, out in the real world. Trying to bottle them up in a modern large building does not strike me as a good idea. I was a bit relieved to see that the place was not yet at opening time, but when I cycled up to the huge sliding doors, they slid back, ushering me and bike inside the (to me) sterile courtyard. Yes, only one of the restaurants appeared to be open just yet, but there was a giant plastic "chou" pastry in the courtyard, with a cutout containing some texts and pictures about the history of "eclairs" and this type of confection. There were in truth only four sheets of text displayed on the subject, and this contained in a huge plastic ball. I can't show you what it was, because Mr. Grumpy did not take out his camera for it!
Dodie says I didn't even understand how to rotate the huge "chou" to get more information, and that indeed it was interesting!
One thing I did like was that the courtyard was heated. After sitting with my bike for a while it was now time to head for Gevrey-Chambertin. So for a sick person, the Cité with its heated courtyard was some use after all!
Our route took us past a road named for Gustave Eiffel, who was apparently born in Dijon, and who lived to the age of 91. Now that's good information!
We followed a canal for a bit, and it at least had some Greylag geese. I could see that when they paddled, they alternated feet, just as when we walk. That makes perfect sense. Why would I think they sort of do the breaststroke or a flutter kick under there?
We had done a fair bit of research looking for a replacement kettle, both in Dijon and what would be further down the road. We rejected E. Leclerc and Decathlon and others, as their websites did not show our required small, light, plastic, dirt cheap, item. We did locate "Boulanger", another chain retailer, with the right thing, and we put a pin in their location in Beaune. But suddenly we passed an Intermarché, and sent Dodie in, and she impulsively came out with just the right low quality item, 10€, but too big, at 1.7 litres. Well we found a place for it in a pack, so all is well. And hey, this one has the big added feature of the detachable base. Wow!
Gevrey-Chambertins is directly on the "Route des Grands crus", meaning great vintages. This is a quite narrow strip of land adjacent to a ridge of low hills, extending approximately from Dijon to Nuits St Georges. That's just about 25 km long and 2 km wide. Some sources give this as 60 km long (to Beaune and beyond), and including 37 wine villages. We were excited to see our first "grands crus" route sign, and then to see the first vines. There is not a single vine north of Dijon, for example.
Depending on your vantage point, you can see vineyards to the horizon.
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The "plat du jour" offered the choice in the main dish of Boudin or Lasagne. Boudin is blood sausage. Keith loves it. ???
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The photo below, simple as it appears, embodies a number of French dining protocol things. I had asked for coffee, and of course got the typical miniature French cup. But Dodie had not asked for coffee and got it anyway, allowing me to score a double amount. The blueberry pie came, and sat in front of me for a long time, as I waited for the coffee. Eventually Keith had to explain that the coffee comes after the pie, so while my pie was still there, no coffee would come. I put my napkin on top of the pie, and this rather worked, except that we had to fend the waiter off of confiscating my pie (and napkin) as the coffee arrived. Finally, the pie came with a spoon. When I announced my intention to ask for a fork, my horrified table mates (all three) dissuaded me. Wow, I'm glad there was not burger or steak on the table, to spark any debate about whether it was cooked enough (which for me it would never be!).
All this was super fun, increased for me as I visited the "toilet". Again, I remembered Peter Mayle on the subject of French restaurant toilets, and the amusement of the staff at the wailings of the American guests over them, especially children.
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As a female of a certain age, restroom facilities are of extra interest to me.
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Back home, it was time to set off for Beaune. Keith warned of some hills, that could be avoided. So he pulled some maps, and he and Dodie readjusted our route, for the easier way.
We so much loved seeing Keith and Susan, and going to the bistrot with them. A real highlight of our week!
Our route took us through Gevrey-Chambertin centre, where there was some attractive decoration on or near the buildings.
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Out on the road (or rather, the route) now, we entered just a complete playland of vines everywhere, rustic stone buildings, winding, usually level and paved path, and the thought that we were riding by some of the most expensive vines around. (As an aside, at the bistrot Susan got wine and I asked if this might be local. The answer was no, local would be too expensive. This was likely some "plonk" from Cotes du Rhone!).
Here we go into the wine wonderland:
We reached Nuits St Georges, a place that I remembered as having a lot of traffic. But that was only because we had been on the 900 level road. Following Keith's advice, we sailed through placidly.
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We arrived in Beaune quite nicely, coming to the entrance gate shown below. Having arrived the gate at its left side, we needed to switch over to the right, to carry on further into town. This one of dozens and dozens hop off the bike, or maybe just stop and go, as we negotiate some kind of city or traffic situation.
Each of us has their own way of starting off when getting a bike going. In my case, I put my right foot on the (right) pedal in the all the way down position, and then kick off with my left. With the bike then slightly in motion, and maybe not quite sitting on the seat yet, I give a strong push on the right pedal, and away we go! I have done this, what, 50,000 times in my cycling history. But this time, when I gave that strong push with the right foot, it slid off the pedal. That allowed the force of the push to send me flying off the bike and down to the right. I hit my right shoulder, and also managed to gouge left and right calves on pedals. It was quite a shock, and it took several passers by to lift me and bike out of the road.
I felt my shoulder was not particularly broken or dislocated, but it was very painful, as were both legs. In such situations, you do not want to deal with all the people clustered around, but would rather go somewhere to cry, tremble, and to assess or lick the wounds.
So I hobbled off, to the skepticism of the observers. Only thing, I could not lift that left hand to the bar, so I was trying to push the bike with one hand. Our hotel was fairly close, and the objective was to make it there.
Dodie asked for the camera, and I thought she was aiming to make an after the fact record of the crumpled rider. But in this case, since I could not raise my camera hand, she recorded (as I would have) what the street looked like:
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In cycling, we sometimes encounter rather implacable opposing forces. These are usually wind, rain, and hills, and maybe narrow roads with traffic. Often in such cases it seems like the opposition will never end - like that hill that curves up and up and curves up again. This time around, for me, it was the pernicious and stupid cobblestone road. Each bump was either a challenge to get over with one hand balancing the bike and pushing, or it was an occasion to get that painful other hand (shoulder) up as high as the bar, to help push from that side.
At the hotel, the staff was very helpful, and the bikes went directly into a unused restaurant bit. The hotel is in a 16th century Benedictine convent, though I have not yet been able to appreciate it. But they have an elevator, helping Dodie a lot in getting our gear to the room! Soon, a staffer appeared with a tube of Arnica cream, which should help the shoulder.
I am typing the blog here now, which means that the right hand is ok at about waist height. I am also practicing with scratching my head. It's slow and painful to do that, but I can achieve it. We have pain killers too. Tomorrow will tell if I can get back on the bike. Taking the train somewhere does not sound too enticing, because trains usually involve a lot of bike lifting. I am betting I'll be fine. Yes, I'll be fine!
Today's ride: 54 km (34 miles)
Total: 2,740 km (1,702 miles)
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Best wishes.
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Sounds like maybe an auriculo clavicular separation. In 2001 I endoed my bike, then, doing my typical bike crash tuck and roll... I only got up to my knees at first. Hospital, x-rays, sling, pain meds... Took a week or more to lift my right hand waist high. The elbow down worked fine but for the first month I had to use my left hand to grip my forearm to move my right arm. The right arm just did not function at all, but a couple months following exercises recommended by some Physical Therapists I knew got most mobility back without surgery.
Yours sounds like it is not near as bad as mine was, with the mobility you describe, so I really hope you recover faster than I did!
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Whatever you do though, don’t try to lug your bikes onto or off the trains! It’s amazing how helpful folks are with this - there’s always some younger person ready to give a hand, and you should just go with it. Maybe wear your sling as a visual cue?
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At least you didn’t fall into traffic?
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