Published on 11/12/17 in In travel
The golden slopes
Still numb from the sleep, I saw an unfamiliar landscape unforlding around me. The serpentine road, which followed the course of the river Saône, crossed valleys dotted with vineyards. I was in Burgundy.
Monks were the first of growers but their arrival is lost in the Middle Ages. Omnipotent despots, who lived in extravagance and feasts. Côte de Nuits, Côte de Beaune, Côte de Saône ... the golden slopes. Small towns fortified behind damp walls. Some derelict, dull towers shut in the memories of a bygone era. A bridge oft-praised from generation to generation. Villagers, the offspring of knights and cheerful troubadours.
When I went for the first time, I was young to appreciate its beauty... a beauty that matured over the years on the trips that followed. A beauty that hides something completely in itself. The "art of living" say the French and advertise it as a national specialty.
Images: The château du Clos de Vougeot
The chef Olivier Walch and his team at the château du Clos de Vougeot