[35] Dijon is Not Just Mustard, You Know

Dijon
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Dijon as in "Do you have any Grey Poupon?" is in the heart of burgundy. I’m not a real fan of mustard, so guess what we concentrated on? This is really a beautiful town. (Have I said that before?) It’s the kind of town we’ve been hoping to find during our travels. We found it in Verona, possibly Genoa and again in Dijon. A mid-sized city with some historical significance, lots of restaurants, beautiful architecture, friendly people – a place where we would readily agree to return.

Through a gat in Dijon
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The problem was – yes, there was a problem – neither one of us was feeling too well when we arrived. I was just slightly under the weather and feeling slow and tired. Ralph had an outright cold. We saw some of the sights but we also slept in most days and were in bed early each night. They have a walking tour of the city that is like the Freedom Trail in Boston. Whereas, Boston has red footprints painted on the sidewalk as guides, Dijon has brass, arrow-shaped plaques imbedded into the pavement. The town symbol (an owl) is on each plaque and the arrow points in the direction you should go. Trouble is, if you watch the ground for the little owls, you walk right past the sights. We especially liked the covered market that is open three days a week.

Covered market
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One day we did something that’d we’d never done – we joined a small tour group and visited the vineyards outside of town. Without a car, it was impossible for us to travel to these small communities. So we hopped in the van with seven other people (including the driver/guide) and set out to see the French winemakers. We couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful fall day. Clear, crisp weather with a sharp afternoon sun. The leaves were turning. The guide told us that in Burgundy, it’s not the winemaker who counts, it’s the field where the grapes are grown. They do not irrigate or fertilize, so the soil is everything. The root systems on the plants go down 40'.

Inside the covered market in Dijon
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When we stopped for the tasting, he gave us wine that was labeled not only with the type of grape, but the village, the winemaker, the classification, then the field. It gets very specific. We tasted seven different burgundies, some white and some red. There were only two that we didn't care for. Too bad we couldn't buy some. We’re glad we didn’t let our "anti-group tour" snobbery keep us from this one.

We’re off now for the last leg of our travels before returning to Belgium to pack for home.

Dijon Notre Dame
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Love to you all,

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