C’est la vie dure

Saying farewell to Paris was like leaving behind a new friend. I was sad and a little wistful, but certain that I’ll be back before too long. It is such a magnificent place, despite there being a zillion places I want to visit before returning down under, I am certain I will make my way back to Paris too.

We headed east, to the hillside vineyards of Moët and Piper Heidsieck. The north east was a completely new and undiscovered part of France, so we were very excited.

The Champagne vineyards claim they are unique in all the world. The ground is more chalk than soil, so it soaks up water (such as dew) like a sponge and releases it slowly throughout the day. Combined with an excellent balance of sun and rain, warm days and cool nights, it makes unique champagne blend grapes.

We only had three days to explore some of the region, and of course taste as much champagne as we could!

We camped in a lovely campground right in the middle of the champagne region, in Epernay. This town is the 'home of champagne', or at least of the Avenue of Champagne, claimed to be the most expensive street in the world because of the thousands of bottles stored below the cobblestones of the street (whilst we were there they were busily tearing up asphalt and putting in 'ye olde' cobblestones in part of the avenue - lovely look, but bone shattering bouncing around on our bikes!)

We rode out of Epernay and up hills crammed with rows of champagne grapes. Because the champagne growing soil is limited to only the chalky and inclined parts of the region, every square centimetre that has the right characteristics is crammed with vines - as we rode into many towns we would see vines amongs the houses, crammed into the vacant lots as they become available! Each section has a placemarker, and we drooled as we rode past the Moët, Piper, Mumm, etc. But there are hundreds of small producers as well, as we discovered on returning to Epernay and had a champagne degustation of some of the smaller producers. We loved the blanc de blancs - champagne produced with only chardonnay grapes.

On the morning of our final day we packed hastily and scooted over to the Moët et Chandon mansions, where we were told which wing used to house the royalty, distinguished guests, etc, with a whole drawing room reserved because Napoleon ('our Emperor' they said, that's right, the first empire never died!) once sat there. We next watched a hilarious film comparing making champagne to painting, with melodramatic voice over and dramatic aerial shots of the vineyards.

Finally we were led, hushed and excited, down into the cellars! They were cool and dark and smelled of chalk and mildew. The folk at Moët clearly enjoyed the atmosphere as the lighting was all little brazier style lights, and the whole effect was intentionally, gorgeously archaic. We wandered through the halls - again, there's Napoleon's hall, they really love this guy! Maybe it has something to do with the design of the champagne glass ... And we learnt of the secondary fermentation, the riddling, and how they plunge the bottles into a freezing solution to extract the remains of the yeast! Then, after all that thirsty work, we came to the tasting.

Neither of us are ones to stand on status. I think that's fair to say. We had noticed, turning up in our cycling clothes (clean!) that there was a marked reluctance form the Versacci clad ladies and hunting suited gentlemen in the party to get too close to us. There may even have been diminishing glances down aristocratic well-heeled gallic noses. Which we of course took in our stride because, well, it was like that in most of France. But then to get to the tasting and realise that we were the only people who had paid the extra to try the vintage champagne (a wedding present) while all the other plebs only tried the standard - and to have the sommeliers make a song and dance of the vintage, and treat us as rock stars, even asking us behind the tasting bench, well, it was a sort of delicious Schaudenfreude. The champagne was delicious - the rose vintage was full bodied and mellower, not sweet so much as lusciously fruity.

We drank our two glasses (extremely full - thank you Jose the Sommelier!) and ate the croissants we had smuggled in and were quite tipsy as we mounted our bikes to depart for the south of the region.

With our bikes weaving a little (luckily there were almost no cars on the little roads we followed) we rode south through the blanc de blancs region.

After pleasant meandering we arrived at our lodgings for that night - no campsite for us! A chateau awaited us, towers lifted above the small hamlet of Etoges. And it was to the round tower that we went, a beautiful circular eyrie above the formal gardens, fountains and duck filled moat. Above the fireplace a reproduction of a painting of the Medicis going to war that we had just seen at the Louvre. It was stunning. We lazed about, explored the town, and then it was time for dinner.

Dinner was served in the orangery of the Chateau. At first put off by the fancy silver service and dozens of waiters (this was our first time in such a fancy restaurant), we relaxed into the night - Sean timidly asking the waiter if champagne would go with all the courses ... to which he replied 'of course', of course. The meal was divine, a vegequarian degustation, with the tiniest mouthful of finely minced vegetables to start, a palate starter, to the exquisite entrees and mains, and then to the cheese. Ohh, the cheese. Not a cheese or two - a whole cart full of cheeses! We asked all sorts of questions, before choosing our five or so cheese portions each - and then shamelessly ransacked each other's plates in a tasting frenzy, soft blues, mellow goats, oozing bries and washed rinds, and an amazing soft peppered goats cheese. We thought that was all but were amazed as they brought us two dessert courses! Finally we staggered back to the Chateau, under the stars and moon. Ahhh, what an experience!

Ahh, France, thank you, you came through with the goods ...

Five days in Montmartre

We've just spent a lovely and relaxing five days in Montmartre, perched northerly over Paris.

We are lucky enough to be staying with Beth, who has lived in this part of Paris for about 40 years, and is one of the warders of the last vineyard in Paris, a little further up the hill. We have been looked after, wined and dined with her and her fabulous friends at her appartment.

This morning early we walked up the step hill to Sacre Coeur and realized how lucky we were, two streets up and early it was packed with people selling paintings, offering to do our sketch, people wandering from shop to shop. We walked into the beautiful church at the top of the hill, all cool white marble, and inside a different focus on the sacred heart and compassion. Apparently the church was built to appease God who had punished the Parisians (and perhaps the Montremartians most of all?) for their wicked ways. Later, in world war II, 13 bombs were dropped near the church and didn't kill a single person - which further strengthened the devotion to the sacred heart.

It really has seemed as if we are in Montmartre, and not Paris. Montmartre seems a village first and part of Paris second. I really like it. We have strolled down the hill to the bus or metro and made our way into Paris and it always feels that we are crossing a border or something.

But Paris is beautiful too, the light, the water, the architecture which fits the stone they have used perfectly, and even modern building like the Pompidou centre don't jar here. We spent two days immersed in the Louvre, and explored thousands of years of art and history (and debated the merits of museum versus art gallery - even more hotly contested on seeing the overlapping collections at the Louvre, Orsay and Orangeries).

We have also managed to catch up with friends, and even do a little window shopping at the grand stores. It certainly makes a difference from the tiny villages we have been cycling through!

We have eaten and drunk and gazed our fill of Paris (well, for now), and are heading off this afternoon for Epernay, heart of the Champagne region. I am intent on telling them that we come from Australia, which also makes very fine champagne, to see if I can provoke them into a very un-french rudeness.

Because the French are almost unfailingly polite. At least to your face. Every transaction in the tiniest Boulangerie or here in Paris is accompanied by good-days, wishes for our good health, and our continued enjoyment of the day.

Ahh, Paris, I have the felling we'll be seeing you again ...

Before the Pyramids...

Brittany is crammed with old stones. At Carnac, the largest neolithic site in the world, there is a linear forest of 3,000 menhirs (standing stone pillars) within four kilometres. 4000 - 1500 BC (the Stone Age and early Bronze Age) was a period of rapid and revolutionary advance in western Europe. European people made pottery, tamed animals, built houses and moved from cave-painting to the building of elaborate stone and earth monuments. Many years before the Egyptian pyramids, the Neolithic culture was constructing carefully plotted and painstakingly laboured alignments and circles of standing stones. There are 3,000 of them in Britain, Ireland and Brittany alone.

Sean and I were incredibly excited to make our way to Brittany to see some of these wonders for ourselves, but found more than we expected to.
It was wet, very very wet. It was somewhat a shock to the system, after having 3 months of near perfect weather (except for the middle week of the Pyrenees). All of a sudden we found ourselves battling wind and rain, always in raincoats, and packing up a wet tent every morning, setting up a sodden tent every night. Did I mention it was wet?

Still, all that rain, makes for stunning landscape. From the first kms we found ourselves in an amazingly beautiful countryside, and we got to visit the coolest historic monuments. We were happier than pigs in mud. The particularly large and important ones were fenced in and you paid lots of money to cram inside squishy dolmens with 30 other tourists.

Our favourites were actually the ones that weren't on the 'historically important' trail. You could just pick a tumulus on the map and ride right up to it. No one else was around and you had to go in with a torch to see anything. Some of them were very long and deep, and super atmospheric, we felt very Indiana Jones.

Then there were the gorgeous towns, the beautifully rugged coastlines and the awesome, awesome crepes. They put anything on those babies. From the typical sugar or chocolate, to eggs, sausages, whatever takes your fancy. Sean's favourite was an organic seaweed and blue cheese crepe in a tiny old place in Rennes.
Despite the weather (and the millions of other tourists), we adored Brittany. Possibly more than the Loire, possibly almost as much as the Pyrenees. We figure the weather is what made it such a ripe landscape for the rapid expansion of humankind.

Lastly we just really skimmed past Normandy. We wanted to see a little more but had completely run out of time. So we made the visit to Mont Saint Michel - a magnificent fortified abbey with soaring impossibly amazing architecture.

Le Loire a velo

Ahh, le Valle de la Loire, home of Kings and powerful Queens, their beautiful chateaux rising from the woods and forests next to the rivers, blessed with good wine and great cheeses, what more could we ask for?

After our 6 days luxurious rest we were more than ready to be back on the open road. This lasted all of, oh a long days ride, when we made another stop.
We were lucky enough to be invited along to a weekend gathering of family and friends at Antoine's parents house in the countryside. We arrived with perhaps a little trepidation at knowing only 1 person at this huge gathering, but we needn't have worried at all. Everyone was wonderful to us (despite our not great French) and we had a hugely fun weekend. As well as good french food and wine (and beer, aperitif and even sangria), there was dancing, games, singing, and lots of relaxing too. It was so good to spend time with the French, rather than just moving through their country side as outsiders.

Then it was back on the open road again, this time for real. It's been a lovely few days cycling small roads and the occasional cycle path, with very relaxed gradients. We haven't done a lot of K's either, as we have been far too busy sightseeing.

Our first night in the Loire was to be a stay in a chateau - but we found this beautiful Abbey just near Blois. It was an awesome buidling (the on in the photo above) on a lovely spot by the river, with beautiful rooms. Absolutely magnificent. We topped off the experience with a lovely Chinese/Thai meal - our finest French dining yet!



A most unexpected delight was when Prita and I found that there is a cycle route, on paths and small roads, all the from the Atlantic outreach of the Loire all the way to the east of Germany, and plans to extend it from there to the shores of the Black sea. It meant we could largely travel off the roads. Not only does it make for far quieter, less stressful riding, but we can ride side by side and enjoy the route together.
Now if only we could manage another few months ...

The cycling has been a breeze, it has been great wandering through the stately rooms of the rich and famous. My favourites so far have been the last home of Leonardo Da Vinci, le Clos Lucé in Amboise, which the king granted him as a retreat. It was amazing to see his house, with quotes from his writings, and models of his inventions in the basement. But more amazing for me was the gardens which he wandered in, making scetches for his paintings from the water plants and woods around the Chateau.

In the garden there were projections of his drawings, large scale models of his inventions, and everywhere running water and ponds, and renaissance singing coming from everywhere and nowhere (but actually I think it came from the overpriced restaurant where they served you in renaissance garb. I don't know about you but I didn't fancy one of those sleeves in my gratin!) Inside we found a waterdamaged but still stunning print of the Mona Lisa, and we joked that this was as close as we would get, given the security and crowds in the Louvre! All in all it was a magical, peaceful visit, and possibly the best lunch stop (in the gardens) so far.

For our last night in the Loire valley we went for a romantic moonlight kayak on the river. We started out at about 9 and paddled as we watched the sun set, then on in the darkness, guided by the torch at the front of the boat. We arrived at about 11pm for some cheese and wine. Ahhh, just perfect. It was a real highlight.