horns of wilmington's cow

By anth

Auxerre and Upwards

There's always one day on every trip you can write off as being a bit down on the rest. You may think that was two days ago with the rain-aborted cycling, but today managed to surpass that, despite wall-to-wall sunshine.

That the morning started with discovering a thorny puncture from yesterday's ride should have been a warning, but that was fixed in ten minutes, and the long ride followed by a stop at the boulangerie simply became a short ride (though with three separate climbs hitting between 10% and 20%) followed by a stop at the boulangerie.

The drive to Auxerre was uneventful, parking was easy, and the view from the river (above) painted a pretty picture. A map was procured from the tourist office, and the cathedral perused. But Mel wasn't really enamoured with the town as we wandered around. It was a bit busier than anticipated, and while the old town was pretty enough, there wasn't really an overwhelming charm. So we forewent lunch at one of the riverside, but also roadside, cafés, and instead headed for tiny Irancy.

There was a respite here in the form of lunch at Le Soufflot, managing to snaffle a table a smidge before service closed (as people not long after us were turned away). It was properly superb, with Mel's cheese course containing an Époisses so melty it was served on a spoon, and lifted spirits from the disappointing morning perambulation. From there it was to an Irancy cave for a bit of dégustation. This is a place for reds, which is more my cup of tea (if that's not a beverage idiom too far), but the door to the cave we were looking for wasn't obvious, and workmen were shifting stuff about in the alleyway that seemed to contain the entrance, in a way that suggested there was no way by. 

We drove on, therefore, to Chablis, but a visit to La Chablisienne, which had promised much, brought an emotionless barn of a place, with an unfriendly woman behind the counter. Not conducive to spending time tasting wine.

So a change of tack saw us in Tanlay to visit a picture-perfect chateau. This time we were thwarted by the French Chuckle Brothers. There's one entrance to the chateau, through a couple of arches, over the moat. And mid-afternoon someone had decided that was the best time to shift a cherry-picker through from the courtyard side to us. This involved more shouting than movement, with those wanting to leave trapped within, and those wanting in trapped without. We took a walk to the grounds (now mostly given over to a golf course) and checked out the dilapidated stables. After 20 minutes the cherry-picker had cleared one, the most difficult, arch. Which it appears warranted a break, with the engine of the machine still running, to toast the midway success.

We went back to the car.

Ancy-le-Franc gave us another pretty chateau stop, but the hour till closing was considered too short to properly view what is apparently one of the best interiors in the country.

It was clear some planning was needed for the next few days, so tomorrow at least should see an escape from people by heading into the Morvan regional park for a walk, though if time permits (and it should) a perfectly planned chateau visit is on the cards for after that.

Tonight was contented ourselves with another walk into Semur, to a lovely little épicerie, and a lovely wee man who owns it, to avail ourselves of peaches, époisses cheese, local beer and, finally, some lovely wine.

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