Frogs legs, Fromage & Vin Rouge: Dijon

November

On a cold and wet morning in November, we woke early, made a packed lunch and with bleary eyes, made our way to Gare de Vaise to catch the early morning train to Dijon, capital of the ancient kingdom of Bourgonge, the Palais des Ducs (not the Palace of Ducks - Katie was most dissapointed when J translated it and discovered that Dijon had a serious lack of ducks) and of course, home of mustard.

Arriving at 9am, the need for coffee and a map was great, we trundled up to find the tourist information centre and were faced with a bright red british telephone box, after taking the obligatory photograph, we selected our map and headed into the christmas decoration covered city centre.

The city is very different from Lyon, the architecture is a combination of different styles and has a very different feel to it. Long sweeping wide streets, lined with trees and grand ornate buildings are then intertwined with older timber framed buildings nestled along small winding cobbled streets. As Dijon was spared the destruction of the 1870 Franco-Prussian War many of these timber frame houses date from the 12th to the 15th century.

It was saturday and market day, vendors selling everything you could imagine, huddled under the canopies to avoid the now freezing rain. After walking round the outside market we came across one of Dijons 'must-sees', the grand covered market designed by Alexandre Gustave Eiffel (yep, same as the tower). The facade itself is beautiful but when you walk inside its like stepping into another world, the acousitcs are amazing and on a saturday morning the athmosphere is buzzing as the oysters that have been shipped in overnight are unloaded, the cheeses are unwrapped, the vegetables are arranged lovingly and the vendors banter with one another over whos' produce is best. In between the open jawed tourists the Dijonnais people are going through the ususal saturday morning routine catching up with friends and local gossip by the stalls or in one of the market cafes. The sounds and smells of the market are incredible, so incredible in fact we realised we were bloody starving and headed off to the nearest patisserie for a pain au raisin!

After leaving the roaring bustle of the market behind, pain au raisins in hand, we were once again surprised by the variety of Dijon as we rounded the corner into the Palais des Ducs, one of only a few remaining examples of the Capetian period in the region, the former residence of the Dukes of Burgandy and from where they reigned over their lands. WOOOAHH. ITS HUUUUGE. The imposing Palais looks out over a sweeping, semi-circular courtyard, the place de la Libération, a spectacular site in itself, and at this time, the site of Dijons christmas market - everything was slighty blurred due to the sheer amount of mulled wine vapour hanging in the air and as we wandered from stall to stall, we realised this was identical to any other christmas market and quickly removed oursleves from its clutches and tootled into the Musée des Beaux Arts within the Palais. Kt was delighted to find a statue of a duck (albeit a scary looking duck statue in a hat). The museam is filled with some amazing, some hideous and some downright strange pieces. As we moved from room to room we felt our brains expand as we discussed the works before us. On leaving we found we had made some important discoverys, we are not fans of Dutch artists as they commonly paint dark pictures of depressed cows (Sorry, private reference for McGregors', Manny was right! "Do you like art?" "Yes, yes, Im a fan of art. Late art" Its from the Dutch school." "Mmmm, yes. Brown. The cow is looking there, perhaps its saying cows see, but what is the cow seeing? Cows know something we dont?") and Kt likes french landscape artists as they more often than not have a horse or two in them. Important lessons learnt. We leaned good. Within the museam is the early Dukes feast room that was converted into a chapel containing the tombs of Philippe le Hardi and Jean sans Peur and his missus.

Feeling educated and proud of ourselves we trundled round the streets, Dijon is known for its rooftops, may of them are made from patterned coloured tiles making simply walking through the streets interesting, although quite dangerous sometimes as you quite often fall of pavements or bump into people as everyone is looking up too! We soon came across the Eglise Notre-Dame, a small carving 'La Chouette' (an owl) on the north side of the bulding attracts a lot of attention, for centuries people have believed that if you touch the statue with your left hand you will have good luck, wisdom and happiness, so we gave it a quick cuddle and continued down the street, only seconds later it was clear that there was some truth in the tale...... Kt was chuffed when she spied santa in a window of a wooden toy store and it made her day when he winked at her. (J was jealous he didnt get winked at, but he wouldnt admit it and instead called Kt a muppet.Harsh.)

We continued through the streets, cameras cliking away as we absorbed the city, pausing to have a look in THE Maille mustard shop - mustard on tap - amazing (although a little on the pricey side!). We looked in little quirky shops and gothic churches, found a fairtarde fair and purchased some coffee. By now the day was pushing on and we found a fantastic organic cafe right in the centre of town. We had missed the lunch time rush and enjoyed a lovely meal of leek and goats cheese quiche with salad for Kt and a ratatouille tart and salad for J, finishing up with an amazing chocolate mousse and a lemon tart with the obligatory french coffee. By far the most delicious meal we have had whilst in France. Prising ourselves from the ornate seats now groaning under our weight, we continued to explore, taking in all the sights, the Eglise Saint Michel, the cathedral, the Porte Guillaume on Darcy Square and the site of the first freshwater reservoir in france...

We finished off by having a boisson in Cafe Leffe opposite the station, by now we were both feeling rather tired and were grateful to see the train pull into the station for the 2hr trip home, but the excitement wasn't over yet, oh no.... as we found our seats Kt was thrilled to find that the tray table had a drinks holder. Small pleasures for small people. Js only comment was once again, muppet. A great end to a fantastic day!

A thoughtful moment on the train to Dijon