Normandy to Burgundy
Oct 11th, 2004 | 07:49 AM
#1
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Joined: Dec 2003
Posts: 24,359
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Normandy to Burgundy
After another hearty Château de Cottun breakfast we loaded our luggage and selves into the car and headed out for the long drive to our next hotel, in the hamlet of Bouilland in Burgundy. Our carefully planned route had to be amended, as our host at the château had gone on line and discovered that one of the tunnels around Paris was closed. He advised us on an alternate route, taking us south of Paris near St-Cloud, and we made our way through the frequent road-repair detours for about two hours before we finally were able to get on the autoroute for Lyon.
Shortly after noon we stopped at one of the large autoroute service areas for gas and lunch at what turned out to be an extremely expensive cafeteria?not a memorable meal, although we did have the pleasure of watching a French automobile-racing support team tear through their meal. Then it was back into the car again, a car that was demonstrating its control over us in a new and different manner. Periodically the car would beep when we went around a corner, but not every corner?apparently the vehicle just disliked some corners, not all. Then it quieted down and we thought the rebellion was over.
On we went down the Autoroute du Soleil, with its expensive toll plazas?much more so than in the northeast. Somewhere around 3:00 in the afternoon we left the autoroute for a road than ran alongside the Burgundy Canal and were treated to lovely scenery after all those kilometres of asphalt. We saw barges moored and going through locks, people fishing in the canal, and others out for a leisurely walk along the water on this pleasant day.
Finally we reached the small road that led to Bouilland. It really is a hamlet?a church, about eight houses, a small auberge new since our last visit, and then the Hostellerie du Vieux Moulin with its restaurant, ancien batiment, and two newer buildings containing rooms and an indoors swimming pool. We checked in and were shown to our rooms by the same young woman who carried our luggage on our first trip, some years back; she evidently chose to stay on when Jean-Pierre and Isabelle Silva sold the operation to move to Provence. (More on that later.)
We had asked for ground-floor rooms, and ours were located in the newest "wing," the one with the pool and exercise room. The rooms were large and spare, contemporary in design and decoration and totally lacking the charm of the older buildings that we loved. Our room in particular needed some upkeep (badly stained carpet area) and additional furniture; there was no chest of drawers, only shelves in the walk-in closet. The wall between the bedroom and bathroom did not go up to the ceiling, allowing humidity to creep out and making it difficult to keep the room dark while one of us was still in bed. We decided that should we return we would definitely ask for more traditional rooms.
In the early evening we walked across the road to the restaurant, which still has one Michelin rosette after the change in ownership. The new owner is from Switzerland, and he had made changes in the dining room to make it warmer and more intimate. So far, so good, but what about the food?
The food was fine. We began with an amuse bouche of bisque d'homard au cappucino, a delectable diversion. Then Bob had mignons de veau with lovely mashed potatoes (I know: I shared), while our TC and I had filet of Charolais beef with a rich sauce of chantereles and Richebourg wine, paired with creamy white polenta. We had a lovely bottle of Savigny-lès-Beaune to accompany our main courses.
Then came a plate of the usual mignardise suspects (tuiles, madeleines, tiny fruit tarts) and, finally, dessert. The cheese trolley looked wonderful?many goat varieties, as before?but the evening was waning and we were tired. So Bob indulged in a chocolate crème brûlée, which was accompanied by a chocolate "cocktail" in a small flute, with butter cookies alongside. Our TC, who likes her crème brulée as God meant it to be, had the version à la Réglisse, with a Reine Claude plum confit. I passed.
The next morning we wanted to leave early and so skipped what we three remembered as a real spread of a breakfast in favor of stopping in Beaune on our way back to the autoroute. We found a charming little tea salon and had tea, croissants, and, for our TC, one of those delicious raisin and custard rolls that she loved. When no one was looking I bought one of the beautiful lemon tarts to have later on. (Good thing, too: it was the best of the trip.)
By 9:00 a.m. we were back on the Autoroute du Soleil, zipping along toward Provence. Then the car woke up and began emitting what the French manual called a "bip sonore," and sonorous it was indeed. It grew louder and louder until we thought that something very serious might be wrong, and then the sound of an explosion set our adrenalin rushing?fortunately the noise proved to be a jet flying low across the wide autoroute. That excitement seemed to satisfy the car for a while, but then the beeping began again and wouldn't stop. Finally we pulled over at a picnic stop and took everything off the middle seat in the back, since, according to the diagram in red on the dash, seemed to be the problem. Did the car's brain think the invisible passenger on that seat hadn't fastened its seatbelt? Did the car just want to be told what a good little vehicle it was? We remembered Thomas Kleingartner's parting words, that French cars had distinct personalities and strong likes and dislikes. Following his advice we praised General de Gaulle loudly and at length; the car seemed to like that and became quiet once more.
Shortly after noon we stopped at one of the large autoroute service areas for gas and lunch at what turned out to be an extremely expensive cafeteria?not a memorable meal, although we did have the pleasure of watching a French automobile-racing support team tear through their meal. Then it was back into the car again, a car that was demonstrating its control over us in a new and different manner. Periodically the car would beep when we went around a corner, but not every corner?apparently the vehicle just disliked some corners, not all. Then it quieted down and we thought the rebellion was over.
On we went down the Autoroute du Soleil, with its expensive toll plazas?much more so than in the northeast. Somewhere around 3:00 in the afternoon we left the autoroute for a road than ran alongside the Burgundy Canal and were treated to lovely scenery after all those kilometres of asphalt. We saw barges moored and going through locks, people fishing in the canal, and others out for a leisurely walk along the water on this pleasant day.
Finally we reached the small road that led to Bouilland. It really is a hamlet?a church, about eight houses, a small auberge new since our last visit, and then the Hostellerie du Vieux Moulin with its restaurant, ancien batiment, and two newer buildings containing rooms and an indoors swimming pool. We checked in and were shown to our rooms by the same young woman who carried our luggage on our first trip, some years back; she evidently chose to stay on when Jean-Pierre and Isabelle Silva sold the operation to move to Provence. (More on that later.)
We had asked for ground-floor rooms, and ours were located in the newest "wing," the one with the pool and exercise room. The rooms were large and spare, contemporary in design and decoration and totally lacking the charm of the older buildings that we loved. Our room in particular needed some upkeep (badly stained carpet area) and additional furniture; there was no chest of drawers, only shelves in the walk-in closet. The wall between the bedroom and bathroom did not go up to the ceiling, allowing humidity to creep out and making it difficult to keep the room dark while one of us was still in bed. We decided that should we return we would definitely ask for more traditional rooms.
In the early evening we walked across the road to the restaurant, which still has one Michelin rosette after the change in ownership. The new owner is from Switzerland, and he had made changes in the dining room to make it warmer and more intimate. So far, so good, but what about the food?
The food was fine. We began with an amuse bouche of bisque d'homard au cappucino, a delectable diversion. Then Bob had mignons de veau with lovely mashed potatoes (I know: I shared), while our TC and I had filet of Charolais beef with a rich sauce of chantereles and Richebourg wine, paired with creamy white polenta. We had a lovely bottle of Savigny-lès-Beaune to accompany our main courses.
Then came a plate of the usual mignardise suspects (tuiles, madeleines, tiny fruit tarts) and, finally, dessert. The cheese trolley looked wonderful?many goat varieties, as before?but the evening was waning and we were tired. So Bob indulged in a chocolate crème brûlée, which was accompanied by a chocolate "cocktail" in a small flute, with butter cookies alongside. Our TC, who likes her crème brulée as God meant it to be, had the version à la Réglisse, with a Reine Claude plum confit. I passed.
The next morning we wanted to leave early and so skipped what we three remembered as a real spread of a breakfast in favor of stopping in Beaune on our way back to the autoroute. We found a charming little tea salon and had tea, croissants, and, for our TC, one of those delicious raisin and custard rolls that she loved. When no one was looking I bought one of the beautiful lemon tarts to have later on. (Good thing, too: it was the best of the trip.)
By 9:00 a.m. we were back on the Autoroute du Soleil, zipping along toward Provence. Then the car woke up and began emitting what the French manual called a "bip sonore," and sonorous it was indeed. It grew louder and louder until we thought that something very serious might be wrong, and then the sound of an explosion set our adrenalin rushing?fortunately the noise proved to be a jet flying low across the wide autoroute. That excitement seemed to satisfy the car for a while, but then the beeping began again and wouldn't stop. Finally we pulled over at a picnic stop and took everything off the middle seat in the back, since, according to the diagram in red on the dash, seemed to be the problem. Did the car's brain think the invisible passenger on that seat hadn't fastened its seatbelt? Did the car just want to be told what a good little vehicle it was? We remembered Thomas Kleingartner's parting words, that French cars had distinct personalities and strong likes and dislikes. Following his advice we praised General de Gaulle loudly and at length; the car seemed to like that and became quiet once more.
Oct 11th, 2004 | 09:44 AM
#3
Joined: Mar 2004
Posts: 6,117
Likes: 0
Loved the description of driving along the canal. One can tell you are a real traveler from the experiences with the car 'beeping' and the wall not quite touching the ceiling. A newby might have been ranting. What kind of car were you driving? We've twice had the embarrassing experience of setting off the alarm (loud honking and flashing) in a parking lot. Both times it took about 15 minutes to figure out how to turn it off. Looking forward to reading about the next miles.
Oct 11th, 2004 | 10:49 AM
#5
Original Poster
Joined: Dec 2003
Posts: 24,359
Likes: 0
One possibility for the name of the tea salon is La Maison d'Arlequin
24 r Victor Millot 21200 BEAUNE.
I found it on pagesjaunes, but the map and photo function isn't working at the moment. I'll keep trying and post again if it looks like the right place.
24 r Victor Millot 21200 BEAUNE.
I found it on pagesjaunes, but the map and photo function isn't working at the moment. I'll keep trying and post again if it looks like the right place.
Oct 15th, 2004 | 04:40 PM
#6
Joined: Jan 2003
Posts: 1,766
Likes: 0
I'm really enjoying your reports! I've been out of commission for a few days, so it's fun catching up. I'm leaving in 2 days for France, and hope my car isn't temperamental! It's (I hope) a little Renault Megane. I always have trouble figuring them out the first day.
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