No mustard, free caterpillar!

6th Day
Sun
Date 03- Sept
Start Dijon
Destination Dijon
Kilometres 0
Cumulative Kms 305
Ave speed (kph) 0
Max speed (kph) 0
Time taken 0
Max Height (m) 0
Today climb (m) 0
Cum.climb (m) 1855

This was Sunday the first rest day of the trip and boy was I glad it was a rest day. I had slept poorly and woke with a headache. My legs, shoulder and head all ached.

Dijon, incorporated into the kingdom of France in 1477, is the largest city of the province and the capital of the Cote d'Or. It has been called the 'cradle and springboard' of the ducal dynasties of Burgundy. It is unmistakably a crossroads, busy and inevitably noisy. It owes its origins to its strategic position in Celtic times on the tin merchants route from Britain up the Seine and across the Alps to the Adriatic. It became capital of the dukes of Burgundy around 1000 AD, but its golden age occurred in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries under the auspices of Dukes Philippe le Hardi (the Bold), who as a boy fought the English at Poitiers and was taken prisoner, Jean sans Peur (the Fearless), Philippe le Bon (the Good), who sold Joan of Arc to the English, and Charles le Temeraire (the Rash). They used their tremendous wealth and power ‑ especially their control of Flanders, the dominant manufacturing region of the age ‑ to make Dijon one of the greatest centres of art, learning and science in Europe. Though it has lost its capital status, it has remained one of the country's pre‑eminent provincial cities, especially since the railway and industrial boom of the mid‑nineteenth century.

Once again, though, I had been drawn to Dijon principally by its cathedral. Looking out the hotel window that September morining I was surprised to see crowds streaming towards the cathedral and remarked to Séamus that people here seemed to take their religion very seriously.

We headed down for 10:00 Mass and were amazed to discover that the place was packed. It was a special mass for the festival and there were throngs of worshippers, many in traditional costumes. I was relieved when we found two chairs left in a side aisle and took our places. It was a little disappointing not to have a good view of the altar but I was glad not to have to stand. Séamus, though, was not so easily pleased and pointed out that there were spare seats in the cordoned off area in the centre aisle just in front of the altar. He marched off with me following sheepishly behind and we took our places as if honoured guests. Séamus – ten years have not changed you – fair play!

It was more than I could have hoped for. To be in a cathedral packed to capacity with the hymns played by various bands of differing nationalities while the prayers of the Mass were repeated in French, English and Japanese as well as other languages. The Offertory procession took almost 10 minutes to complete. At Communion time baskets of broken bread were passed around so that the non-Catholics could participate in the service. It was almost two hours before the ceremony was completed and a German band played recessional tunes.

We got breakfast in a nearby café and Séamus lead us on a walking tour of Dijon. I limped along. We regularly crossed paths with the Festival and its bands. The Musee des Beau Arts was impressive

We also visited the Musee de vie Bourg and sat in the courtyard as thunderstorms were followed quickly by sunshine.

Eventually we made our way back to the hotel where we decided to check the route for tomorrow only to discover that in all the maps and documents he had brought, Séamus had saved space by leaving behind the one he needed for the next few days. I went downtown and got another and again highlighted the route. Then we went for our evening meal, having taken the precaution of getting and translating a menu earlier.

The hotel restaurant certainly was high class and the waiters very formal. We, or at least I, felt a little out of place in informal wear. We ordered TARTE FINE A LA TOMATE Huile d'Olive et Basilic to start. When it arrived it looked appetising and I looked forward to a great meal. Séamus, though, was a little slow to start and I wondered why. Cautiously he asked me whether the green caterpillar stretching elegantly upwards from the topmost slice of tomato was a particular French delicacy. Deciding it was not we discreetly called the waiter. That took the wind out of his sails as he rushed to replace the dish. We had them on the run then as another offered a roll of bread but dropped it and was grateful that Séamus caught it before it rolled across the floor.

We relaxed then and enjoyed our second course even more. Séamus had SUPRÊME DE PINTADE AU SESAME Chou Vert et Beurre de Cidre while I had CROUSTILLANT DE THON AUX ALGUES Crème de Fois Gras. We would not have known what they were either but had taken the precaution of checking the menu against our French dictionary before we came down for the meal! Anyway they were excellent.

Our cheese course comprised BRIE MARBRÉ AUX NOIX and FAISSELLE DE FROMAGE BLANC A LA CREME and we finished with a selection from the CHARIOT DE DESSERTS and coffee. It cost us 190 Francs Service Compris and there was no surcharge for the caterpillar. (Now there’s one to stump the present generation – they probably don’t recognise Francs! - I’m a bit stumped myself : did that wonderful meal only cost us a little under €25 each??). Neither was there an apology or any compensation. We had enjoyed the meal and the evening and said nothing. Do please thy the Hostellerie du Chapeau Rouge website to get some idea of what the hotel, and its restaurant are like.

We watched the television for a while and went to bed ready to hit the road tomorrow.