Madaming lumang gusali tulad nito sa Dijon some going back to the fiifteenth century.
A stopover at Dijon, a well-known wine region in France
Hapunan sa isang wine vineyard at ang pagbisita sa Dijon city
At the start of the tour, whole day drives were comfortable and pleasant. Now, at the tail-end of the trip, the scenery was no longer interesting, especially after Switzerland. You ran out of things to talk about with your companion, and people are easily annoyed. On our very long drive to Paris, we had a stopover in Dijon.
Dijon is the capital of Burgundy, a wine producing region of France. Even before we reached the city proper, we turned off from the highway and into a large vineyard. Long tables were laid out under the grapevines, al fresco. We were allowed to stretch our legs and walk around the vineyard and lunch would be served in 30 minutes. Rows and rows of grapevines as far as the eye could see, even up the hillsides, what a wonderful sight! Bottles of red wine were brought out with wineglasses for all. A cheer came up from the Australian group.
For lunch we had stewed lamb and fresh baked bread. “Good God! Mutton!” said one of the Australian men. From his tone, I couldn’t tell if he liked it or not, but they ate a lot of it. Wine was all you could drink, but bring your own water. No water was served. For dessert we had peach tart which was really good, and freshly picked grapes. Everything was delicious! My great-great grandfather was French, from another wine state in the south of France – Bordeaux. Perhaps there is DNA memory.
If we didn’t have to go, the Australians would have stayed until the last bottle was empty, but the bus awaited. We drove to the center of Dijon city and paid our usual respects to the Cathedral – Saint Benigne de Dijon and to the Palais des Ducs et des Etats de Bourgogne.(Church and State) Magnificent structures, both of them.
Another day of travel. Papunta naman sa France this time scaled.
The Indonesian couple with us had quite the story to tell. He was Muslim, but not religious. She was Batak, a tribe in Indonesia that has many Christian followers. He was divorced, which is allowed among Muslims and she was Christian. They worked together in a newspaper and considered getting married. Her grandmother lived in Amsterdam and they went to see her to ask for her approval. According to them, he knelt before the grandmother and begged for her blessing. The answer was no.
At the end of the Paris tour, three people will not be going back to London: the Indonesian girl was taking a train to Amsterdam, mama and myself were taking a train to Zurich, to visit with my cousins.