Beaune to Shop

I wept when I first saw the vines.
Now then, it's possible I wept because I'd flown for ten hours to get from SFO to CDG, retrieved a rental car from Terminal 2 after arriving at Terminal E, managed the peripherique and then sped breezily along the A6 at 140kph until I got off at Beaune Centre, in the heart of Burgundy. Maybe anyone would have wept...from sheer exhaustion.
But the vines have always touched my soul. The day has been hazy but spring-like. The fields are yellowy green and the vines are still dormant. Once you've taken the ticket to enter the A6, the drive south is a breeze. Here and there the soil was tilled a warm red brown; not deep and dark like in California. Off to my left over a crest I'd see a castle or a chateau or a medieval village, little changed to date.
I did not make a hotel reservation before arriving, not knowing exactly where I would want to spend the night. Alas, this is a country of traditions and so I stuck with mine -- when driving south, overnight at the Hotel de la Poste in Beaune. When driving north, overnight at the Hotel de le Cloche in Dijon. I could have booked this hotel in advance for 130euros but I thought that was over-priced and sheesh, on a Wednesday night in the middle of March, I could just waltz in and pay 100 euros.
Ha. One room left. 160 euros please. Merde.
I was too tired (and too weepy) to go elsewhere. Besides, I had already done an online search on prices at the other two hotels I like in Beaune (Cypre and Cep -- these are two different places) and both were higher than the de la Poste.
So my room is very sweet -- small but intime with gorgeous furniture and a deep bath tub. There is an ecologically proper soap dispenser on the wall of the tub/douche. This may be green and may in fact save the earth, but there are few amenities in the bathroom and none to 'steal'. It's also very hard to squeeze and wash at the same time.
I took a fast shower as soon as I arrived. After all that travel I was feeling more French than is ever proper. There was no shower cap in the bathroom but when I stepped under the hand-held I remembered:
A) it's hand held, you can avoid getting your hair wet rather simply ... and
B) even when attached to its post, the pommeau du douche is still way too low to ever get my hair wet. French people are much shorter than I am.
Town is as charming as ever, although there are a lot of empty storefronts; Recession has obviously come to even the cute towns of France. Real estate prices don't seem to be too affected. Cute little cottages, far cuter than my house in Provence, begin around 300,000 euros -- almsot twice the price of my house. I guess this is the zip code to own in.
Certainly it's the place to drink. The wine shops do not seem to be hurting from Recession and the town center is crawling with tourists (mostly British) buying up burgundies. Me? I'm just brushing up on my French. I have to have mis-translated when I saw the sign for a vineyard that appeared to be named Patricide (see above).This wine from Solvang, California -- OK, that's clever. But here? I must be very tired.

One Beaune Day

I maybe wouldnt have even mentioned this if it hadn't happened that when I had lunch with my friend Dottie last week, she told me that she and her husband were soon leaving for France and, by coincidence, had the exact same arrival and car rental plan as me. Thinking that great minds might think alike, I am starting off with the way we were.

With two dogs, two valises, two duffles and countless tote bags, Sarah Lahey (Editorial Director of Born to Shop) and I decided that going into Paris and then taking the train south to my house in Provence was simply too much schlepping. Sarah went online and found a wonderful car rental deal with Kemwell; I took lotsa Stilnox on the plane (having just read that Bill Buckley liked several a night, I figured what the hell) and was rested enough to drive.

The rental companies at CDG bring the car right to you, about 30 minutes after you check in at their desk. We went for breakfast and were soon driving toward Paris and the Ring Road and to the A6. Our goal was to get to Beaune for the first night, since it is a 7-8 hour drive to my house in Provence and even with some sleep on the plane, I did not want to go that far.

Having been to Beaune several times before, I knew what hotel to book (I always stay at Hotel de la Poste) and we got a fabulous room on the top floor with exposed beams and two beds and a little terrace. Sarah booked it through www.venere.com-- 145 euros. Doggy guests cost an additional 10 euros per tail.

There are two 4-star hotels built into the ring road that encircles Beaune and allow you to walk to all the sights in town-- the other is the Hotel de le Cedre. Driving in Beaune is not complicated, it's just frustrating since everything is one way.

While the most well-known landmark is Les Hospice, this building was closed by the time we arrived. We had to search for a viewing point on the street just to peek at the famous multi-colored tile rooftops. It was a brilliant spring afternoon and strolling was a pleasure. There are a number of food, cheese, mustard and wine shops. After all, you are in the heart of Burgundy and only a half hour from Dijon. The boutiques are more fashionable than ever before, there's even a Farrow & Ball paint store! No Chanel, however.

Perhaps the most striking thing about our visit was the extraordinary town plantings. We're not talking about geraniums or petunias here; not even pansies. Entire beds of wild flowers form a type of English garden in all public squares and traffic circles. All the local real estate magazines seem to show affordable housing and Beaune was picture perfect.

With jet-lag eating us alive, we went for an early dinner (20 euro special, 3 courses-- snails from Burgundy, Beouf Bourgignon, dessert of choice) at a cute bistro down the street in the heart of The Cute then fell into bed. We fell asleep quickly, listening to CNN and waiting for news about the missing child Madeleine...who is still missing.