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Thu, 27 Oct 2011
Je reviens chez moi
Reflections, from a distance
Well, I'm home again. It's interesting to return, and maybe see both countries
(France and Australia) from a different perspective.
Certainly there's a lot I miss about France, much of it to do with the food and wine.
I can't just nip down to the shops and buy a decent bottle of Volnay for €20 or so.
And the good French cheeses....
I also miss the cafés. In particular, it's hard to find cafés in Australia
that have reasonably priced, interesting food. There are many very good, expensive ones,
and a lot that sell okay food, at a lasagne-and-chips sort of level, but nothing like France.
And so many cafés here close at about 3pm. Just when I'm thinking about afternoon
coffee....
Travelling through the French countryside certainly was enjoyable and interesting. I got to
visit many beautiful small villages and a number of interesting wine domaines.
And eating a good meal in a French restaurant still seems to be one of the high
points of civillised life: good food, good wine -- but not just that, it's almost
a ritual, the formula the same -- wine, entrée, plat principal, dessert --
but the details (the important details!) different.
I'm trying to decide at the moment if I have enough material to write separate weblog
posts about some of the domaines I visited. Domaine Macle (Château-Chalon) and
Domaine Pierre Overnoy (Pupillin) would both seem interesting enough to write about,
but in both cases my visit was very short.
Oh yes, and shopping malls. I always seem to end up in shopping malls in Australia,
whilst I managed to avoid them completely in France. I do have a somewhat irrational
dislike of them. I think they're one thing in Australia that I'll never really get
used to...
posted at: 04:03 | path: /travel/france |
permanent link to this entry
Burgundy 2011: Pommard, Volnay and Mersault.
Getting back into blogging, finally. Some travel blogging.
Today, hired a bike in Beaune and cycled to Pommard, Volnay and Mersault.
The Cote-de-Beaune is looking beautiful, with the grape vines all still
in leaf, and grapes hanging off the vines, almost ready to be picked. Almost,
just a few days until harvest...
Stopped first in Pommard. I had a meeting arranged for 10h30 at
Domaine Mussy.
I didn't have a map of Pommard, so tried using my phone's navigation software.
It crashed, so I had to reboot it. Thanks, Google... Got there finally 15 minutes
late but luckily they did not mind.
M. Meuzard, the winemaker, doesn't speak English, but Mme. Meuzard does. We head
down into the cellar for a tasting. The cellar is low-ceillinged, 15th-century. The
winery was founded over four hundred years ago -- in 1646 -- and has been in the
same family ever since. Mme. shows me the barrel room -- they do not use much new oak,
only ~10%, as it obscures the terroir.
The barrel room, Domaine Mussy.
I try some wines. I try first the 2009 Beaune Epenottes -- a very good year, but still
young and very closed. Needs at least 4 years, according to Mme. Meuzard. I try then the
2001 from the same vineyard -- elegant, perfumed, some evolved/autumnal characters
on the nose, tannins still firm but elegant, red fruit. Mme. Meuzard says that this
is their most feminine wine.
I am asked what sort of wine I would prefer -- Masculine (structured, intense) or feminine
(lighter, perfumed). I am not used to thinking of wines in these terms, so hesitate.
Try a more masculine wine next -- 2001 Beaune-Montremots. More tannins, but still
very elegant. Good structure. Ten years old but would last longer. I forgot to try
their Pommard, unfortunately. Next time...
M. Meuzard is enthusiastic to hear I am a student winemaker from Australia. I wish I
could speak more French, so I could have spoken properly with him....
As I am leaving, realise I bought some wine but forgot to pay, so head back. Too
easy to get distracted when enjoying a good conversation...
Head to Volnay, then Mersault. Cycle around Mersault for a bit, then see
a shop called Art du
Tonneau, a barrelmaker. He has a short video in French, so I go in. The shopkeeper --
perhaps M. Gillet, the tonnelier -- doesn't speak much English but gives some
commentary to the video. He sells in Australia, including to some very
well-regarded domaines. He kindly offers me a coffee while I watch the video --
I have an espresso.
Afterwards, I head to Volnay and try to see a domaine there. I try one first, but
they only sell by the case so cannot give me a tasting. I try another, more-or-less
at random -- Domaine Christophe Vaudoisey. I ask "parlez-vous anglais?", but get a non,
he only speaks French. Ah, a problem. I ask for a tasting, je voudrais gouter votre vin?
He doesn't really follow my bad French. After a minute, he asks if I would like
a "degustation"... ah, that's the word I should have used, but forgot...
I follow him down to the cellar. I try a Volnay first, then two Volnay 1er cru. The
Volnay is very good, but both 1er crus have a certain something extra... more character,
more structure.
Then I notice he also has a Mersault, a 1er cru also. I try this last -- wrong order,
but can't be helped. I buy one bottle of a Volnay 1er cru -- 'je voudrais...' is the correct
phrase, and I remember it for once.
On the way back to Beaune, I finally have the lunch I packed this morning. It's 17h, not
exactly lunch time, but still...
Rain is forecast for tomorrow, and the skies still glower, threatening with grey clouds.
The grapes wait for harvest. The vignerons, I presume, pray the rain is not too heavy, not this
late in the year.
posted at: 03:36 | path: /travel/france/burgundy |
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Picnics
I had a picnic lunch today. A baguette, some cheese and a terrine. All that was missing was the bottle of wine...
I thought: this picnic, although very simple, would be impossible in Australia. Why? A good cheese, made with unpasteurised milk is expensive and hard to get (used to be illegal, but rules on unpasterised cheeses are slowly starting to relax...). I might find a decent baguette if I'm lucky enough to live near a good bakery. The terrine would be simpler (though what I had, partridge and almond, would be impossible).
Oh, and I mentioned wine. As far as I know, you're not allowed to drink in public places (eg, parks) in most of Australia. Seems okay in France, and rioting has not yet broken out as a result...
posted at: 03:36 | path: /travel/france/burgundy |
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Fri, 26 Aug 2011
Dijon
My weblogging continues...
Today was meant to be the day I visited Gevrey-Chambertin. A train from Beaune stops
there reguarly. I wanted to branch out, and see some of Burgundy beyond the Cotes de
Beaune.
I hadn't counted on the weather. Rain, thunder, lightening. Not good. Especially with
the grape harvest only days away. Mildew suddenly becomes a threat, and picking grapes
in the rain is no fun.
So I go to Dijon. Dijon, to see the old streets and the cathedral with the gargoyles.
In Dijon, my first stop is the first church I see -- the church of St. Benigne. A lovely,
typical Gothic church, it hides a secret: a romanesque crypt from the 11th century.
I descend. The first room is low and wide, with many romanesque columns. A statue of
Christ, his arms outstretched in welcome. Another room: a rotunda, surrounded by columns.
An altar. A doorway through to a gallo-roman chapel, once at ground level, now part of the
crypt. Another doorway leads off, to more passageways. Most are still blocked, buried, yet
to be excavated.
Reluctantly, I head back up into the daylight. The museum of archaeology nextdoor beckons.
Here I find more treasures: a bronze age gold torc, more than 1kg of gold -- a metal more
common then, oddly, than now. A roman statue of doves. Post-roman enamels and belt-buckles,
intricate in their working.
The best is in the lowest level: an old medieval room full of roman funerary memorials, memories
of the long dead. Early medieval wooden figures, dredged from river mud.
Street in Dijon
Out in the light again, I head for the Palais des Ducs. A follow one sign, only to find it
leads in the wrong direction. I find another, and follow that. After walking around in
circles, I find it eventually. It is now the town hall and the Musee des Beaux Arts. I wonder
around, and see what I can of the exterior.
I notice another church: Notre Dame. I am drawn by the impressive gargoyles on the exterior.
Coming closer, I notice portions of the portice still have some of their original paint, just
faint traces but still there.
Inside, I notice a few original scraps of wallpainting survive from the 15th century. A
service is in progress in a candlelit side chapel: song fills the church.
I head for the train. I don't like to leave: there is always one more thing to look at,
another photograph to take. I don't want to miss the train, though. I head on.
At the station, I can't find the machine to validate my ticket.
Eventually I find it, not on the platform, but inside
the station. On the train I can relax: I haven't missed it, I'm getting back in time for
dinner. Beaune beckons.
posted at: 09:10 | path: /travel/france/burgundy |
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Fri, 01 Jul 2011
New Arrivals
Well, this is the first time I've been somewhere in Australia that isn't
along the eastern coast since... since before I can remember. Since
getting back to this country at the start of 2003, I've just been
messing around on the eastern edge of the continent. Well, that's all
changed now. Temporarily.
I'm in Adelaide for about a week, for the Australian Systematic Botany Society 2008 National
Conference. The excitement doesn't start until Sunday, I got here a
earlier so that I could look around Adelaide a bit.
I had been warned(?) in advance that Adelaide was designed by the same
man as Christchurch in New Zealand. According to Wikipedia this isn't in fact the case, but walking along the river
I did get a certain sense of deja vu, the city feeling more
like Christchurch than any other Australian city than I am used to. This
doesn't explain why I kept thinking that the traffic would be driving
on the right, maybe I was subconsciously being reminded of a European
city.
The walk along the river was pleasant, and graced by musk lorikeets
(Glossopsitta concinna)
and Australian Pelicans (Pelecanus conspicillatus).
In a tree, noisy miners were raising a nest-full of appropriately noisey nestlings. The next was part twigs, part plastic: old shopping bags fished from the river, having
finally found some use.
I crossed over the river on a rather ornate bridge, and walked across
the fields. My attention had been drawn by church spires, by analogy
with Christchurch, there should surely be some sort of square out in
front. Sadly, the analogy did not stretch quite that far. Walking across
the fields, though, I found a juvenile magpie using the tried-and-tested
"nearly tread on it" method of bird detection. There were adult magpies
lurking nearby, I could but hope that at least one of it was the
juvenile's parent. Though no longer a chick, I don't think it was quite
up to looking after itself.
The delusion that I was in Christchurch was more or less dispelled by
the CBD. I didn't really look around the city centre much, though, but
headed straight for the South Australian Musuem. Sad thought it may sound,
this was one of the main reasons that I had arrived those extra few days
early. Here, they have some very rare and unusual fossils indeed - trace
remains of the first animals ever, from the
Ediacaran period -- some 650
million years ago. It's something quite special to see, and think
how long ago they lived. That the imprints of soft bodied organisms have
survived so long is quite amazing. It's incredible to think that these
ghostly shapes in the rock could well have been the ancestor of all of
us. Debate still rages as to if, and how, these things are related to
modern life. That they don't really look like any thing that you would
see out there today still is undebatable.
This wasn't the only thing to see at the Museum, and I enjoyed looking
through the Pacific Islands cultures exhibition, and the extensive and
brilliantly done exhibition of Aboriginal Australia.
Then I capped off another amazing day by getting the wrong bus back to where
I'm staying.
This is where it helps to have made a note of what bus you got into town
on. Adelaide photo gallery
posted at: 01:50 | path: /travel/australia/south_australia |
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On the train
On the train to Newcastle, winter landscape flashing by. Cold reflections in fallow fields, winter villages huddled around churchyards.
Slowly through towns, speeding past hedgerows. Empty platforms gone in a flash of station signs and sodium light.
Somehow the landscape reminds me of Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell, as if I
can see the Raven King's words written in the empty fields and the grey sky. Even though we're not far enough north to be North, not yet.
Ah yes, here comes the trolley with tea and Mars bars. Enough to break anyone out of thoughts of the Raven King...
posted at: 01:50 | path: /travel/uk |
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London or Siberia-on-Thames?
Well, that's exaggerating somewhat. Somewhat.
Whilst it wasn't exactly as cold as Siberia, there was a lot of snow.
This is quite odd for London, it doesn't often snow here. It certainly doesn't
often get this much snow, it was quite weird. There were several inches of snow on the ground,
and it just kept snowing the whole day.
Anyway, with no buses and almost no trains, I walked to Greenwich Park.
I haven't seen so many people in Greenwich park before, there were lots of people making snow
men and sliding down hillsides on sleighs, plastic bags, road signs,
real estate signs, or pretty much anything that could resemble a sleigh.
I took as many photos as I could before the battery decided it had had
enough, and died. Still, I think I took some nice photographs: there was snow
everywhere, on every branch, on the heath of Blackheath.
posted at: 01:50 | path: /travel/uk |
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