What is Ble??

Today we talked about wine production for 5 hours in the classroom. This gap was broken up by a two hour break for lunch, but the weather is humid and rainy, so walking into town was rather unappealing. We covered the history of wine discovery and production, discussed the differences between white and red wine, distinguished the  microbial control points, outlined the variables in production which distinguish wine makers and set their products apart, and also touched on several technological advances that have impacted the wine industry. It was a busy day!

We purchased our train tickets this afternoon for our return to Paris on Sunday morning. I can’t believe a week has already flown by! Even better, though, there’s still a whole week to go!

Alright, so remember that cheese we’d purchased at the market on Saturday? The one that was a mouth-watering, upstanding hunk, aged to perfection, and of the perfect golden hue? Slightly nutty? (We’re still talking about cheese.) Well, I mean, that’s how I remember it. Amino acid crystals flecked throughout to indicate it’s aging, a thin, red and brown, craggy rind. Faint lines running throughout as a memory of the curds that were turned and pressed, turned and pressed to yield a masterpiece. Part of me spotted the cheese from almost across the street, and despite being  one of the most indecisive people you’ll ever meet, I knew I’d love it. Long-story short, for class we need to select a cheese to study and present to the class. Salers is now my chosen cheese, and today I spent a little bit of time doing some research.

The day culminated with a group dinner at La  Nation. Despite my efforts, I am continuing to struggle with the menus. I’d selected “Ble a la Nicoise.” One, because I knew what a Nicoise salad was and that I could eat it. Two, because I had to figure out what “ble” was. I asked the server and she had no idea how to explain it, and had to go ask someone else to ultimately tell me it was wheat. Now, I’ve never heard of wheat just being served straight up, and how did were they planning on bringing that into a Nicoise salad? So, I referenced the translator app. on my phone which told me it was wheat, corn, or grain. I was pretty sure it wasn’t corn, the term for which looks closer to maize. Again, I had to wait and see what I was going to get. 

What came to the table was a tremendous salad, with a small mound of barley and tuna nestled in the center. Ble meant barley! Mystery solved. Needless to say, I ate the whole thing and will be sleeping well tonight.

I napped in the gardens of a chateau in France. Enough said.

Today we went for a bike ride! We travelled approximately 26km north to a Chateau where we had a picnic and toured the Chateau. It was a beautiful day and I was very excited for such a leisurely, yet engaging activity.

I woke up a slightly early to go to the bakery in the morning with some of the other students to get a quick coffee and bread for our picnic. Why didn’t I go to the bakery every morning? No. Why didn’t I live in the bakery? This place smelled like heaven. The baker was shaping baguette after baguette to be put into the oven after taking several out. the walls and display cases were filled with pastries and fresh loaves of all different shapes and sizes.

Upon checkout, I decided to purchase a small French donut—the equivalent of what looked like a munchkin. We took a seat outside with our coffees and I bit into my donut. This is exactly why I DON’T live at the bakery. I think I died, this thing was glorious. The small donut was rolled in sugar, and what oozed from the center wasn’t any syrupy, or waxy pudding-like substance which can be found inside American donuts. No, what oozed from the center was real, luscious milk chocolate. How do these not exist in America? Who’s responsible to ruling out the sinfully delicious cheeses, ice cream, and now donuts, too? It’s really probably a good thing I don’t have regular access to those little nuggets of bliss.

After coming back down to the streets of Cluny from my brief stay in heaven, we finished our coffees and headed back to the hostel to divide up the picnic supplies for our bike ride. Originally, I had the cheese bag in my backpack, which had the dreadful potential on a warm afternoon to leave the lingering smell of cheese as a souvenir for my backpack. Luckily, though, we were able to acquire cargo baskets for our bicycles. And we were off!

The bikeride was beautiful. We passed through several farms and saw field after field of grazing white (Charolay) beef cattle. After about an hour ride, around 12pm, we arrived at the picnic site just outside the town where the chateau was located. Once again, by means of a great deal of leftovers from yesterday’s picnic feast, we enjoyed a delicious picnic including a few more cucumber, tomato, avocado lettuce wraps, a very tasty baguette from the bakery that morning, white peaches and cherries. For cheeses we had an aged goat cheese (which always seems to go to quickly) boquefort, and the emmental and citoux which seem to be never ending. We also had some leftover cranberry cheese and herb cheese from the Fromagerie Delin which we’d visited on Friday. That is, until I clumsily knocked the herb cheese onto the ground. 

We finished up 2 bottles of wine and our picnic around 1:35, and we headed into town. Unfortunately, we were within that 2 hour window during which everything in town closes for lunch, including the Chateau. So to kill a bit of time, we popped into a café for some espressos and to refuel our dessert stomachs. Also in the café, I came across what looked like a candy dispenser, with little 2 ounce cans. But the cans weren’t candy, some were peanuts, some mixed, others olives! I couldn’t resist buying one.

I wasn't kidding about the moat.

After our coffee/dessert break we headed into the Chateau. Walking to the entry we crossed a moat which surrounded the Chateau. A real moat?! Hello, fairytale! 

Our tour guide, who spoke French, provided us with typed guides in English. The Chateau was beautiful and incredibly ornate. Even the ceilings were intricately decorated with carvings and paintings. This was a clear reflection of the tremendous wealth of the original family that lived there.

Living the life.

On top of the building I noted a giant nest in which sat 2 tremendous birds (storks maybe?). Those animals had it made! If I were a bird, I’d totally post up at a chateau or castle. Why not?

We next toured the gardens located just over the moat on the right side of the Chateau. Our walk around the gardens ended in a brief nap in the gardens surrounded by rose bushes, lavender, and the carved bushes of various plump little animals.

Around 5pm we awoke from our slumber and realized that one of the keys to the bike locks was missing. Together, we search the grounds of the garden and the Chateau, but came up empty handed. As it turned out, one of the chateau guides had the key in his pocket the entire time! Luckily we retrieved it from him and departed for our bike ride back to Cluny. The return went by much more quickly than the morning’s ride.

We had dinner tonight at Brasserie du Nord (where I’d had the unfortunate meat experience during our first lunch). Well, this restaurant seems to always put me at a loss as a lactose-intolerant vegetarian. Seemingly every dish on the menu is entirely cheese or graced by meat of some kind. The past two times I’d been here, I resorted to just telling the server I was vegetarian and that I’d be happy with anything the chef sent me. Unfortunately, I arrived at dinner this night slightly later than the rest of the group and was left with very little time to find something I could eat on the menu. Exhausted from the long day, I once more told the server I was vegetarian but would eat fish, and would be satisfied with anything. After rolling his eyes at the vegetarian comment, he nodded and left our table. Well, at that rate, I had no idea what I was going to receive as my meal.

I really should tell them to send me anything tasty that I can eat more often. What was soon delivered to me was a plate of pan-seared salmon dressed with a creamy seafood sauce, a small bowl of wild rice, and a light green salad with walnuts and the French Dijon vinaigrette that I can’t get enough of. I really couldn’t have asked for something better.

Sufficiently full, I once again made my way to the bar for yet another Eurocup game. Tonight, it was England versus Italy (my ancestry!). I was initially disappointed when I arrived at the 90 minute mark, which would technically be the end of the game. However, I next made note of the score which was zero-zero! I was just in time for overtime. This is when it gets intense. Just five minutes before the end of overtime, Italy scored! Except it didn’t count. So the game went on to penalty kicks. Now, here, this is where watching becomes unbearably nerve-wracking. But, alas, just as in the 2006 World Cup, Italy claimed victory over penalty kicks. Viva Italia! Wednesday will be the Spain-Portugal, and I can’t wait!

Tomorrow, after a very fun weekend, we’ll be back in the classroom to talk about wine which I’ve been much anticipating, especially after taking the Rutgers Wine Course this past spring. 

Our Introduction to Market Day in Cluny

This morning we all met outside Le Cellier de’l Abbaye at 9am before being led into the market and shown around by Catherine Healy. We first past through a few non-food vendors selling jewelry, wallets, bags, and clothing before entering the heart of the market. We were there just as it was getting started, so there weren’t a ton of people there yet. Cathy led us through, with several stops to point out the cheese farmers and sellers, indicating where to get the best goat cheese, the vendor townspeople line up to purchase their cheese from, and the goat-cheese-filled pastries we had to try.

Before setting us loose, she left us with a few useful phrases which we could use to request half a kilo of something, one/two/three of an item, and for cheese, “un petit morceau,” a small piece. We decided to simply buy what looked good to supply our picnic that afternoon. As we dispersed, the locals and visitors from neighboring towns, coming to do their grocery shopping for the week, began to roll in.

I loved seeing all the shoppers out and about in the market, filling baskets or little rolling carts with a bag on them with small parcels of delicately wrapped meats and cheeses and bag after bag of fresh produce. One vendor was selling produce, milk, and milk products which had been produced ising biodynamic farm methods. Biodynamic farming, is a step above organic, with emphasis on sustainable agriculture. The milk they were selling was raw. Even after eating all this raw cheese, the site of raw milk still sends shivers down my spine after doing a brief paper on the raw milk debate during the spring semester. Not sure if I could ever take that risk.

I felt silly among the hustle and bustle taking pictures of the market, which, in addition, the French find ridiculous. Why would anyone want to take pictures of that?

 I readily purchased a few goat cheese pastries for all to try at our picnic, as well as some lettuce, tomatoes, and avocado—I needed to break up the cheese and bread meals with a little green. I continued to walk around with the other students, tasting wine at some vendors and perusing a full other strip of trade items such as wooden instruments and jewelry, not to mention all the clothes, shoes, accessories, furniture, etc.

We headed back to Cluny Sejour to rest up and prepare for our picnic lunch. I can easily say I really, really miss having my own kitchen and being able to prepare my own meals. I’m the kind of person that will put thought into the details of every meal I eat. I’ll go all out with elaborate plating, garnish and all, even though most of the time I’m just cooking for myself. I felt a little lost washing the lettuce leaves one by one in the solitary sink in our hostel room, having to scavenge for paper towels to dry them on layer after layer, and no bowl or plate, but a plastic bag.

The least I can say is that at our picnic, which took place under the shade of several trees, atop a large, round rock table with no seating, the lettuce was a hit. Other students purchased a roasted chicken, mustard, and cucumbers, all of which were utilized along side a touch of avocado and a sliced tomato, nestled in tasty lettuce wraps. Boy, does Dijon mustard have some kick to it! That stuff was like wasabi. A little shocking, but with my love of spicy things, it kept me coming back for more.

We had a great selection of goat cheeses, leftover Emmental, the Citoux and Pyrenees cheese from the day before, and a new cheese which Laura bought at the market, called Salers. We could tell this cheese had been aged several months and would be nutty and delicious. And, oh were we right. I could eat this cheese for days. Needless to say, it went very quickly. We’ve gotten pretty good at building some tasty picnics. We even had dessert today which included raspberries, strawberries, and cherries. Oh, and a good ol’ jar of Nutella….

I’m currently getting ready to go for a run really quickly so that I can be ready to go to an oboe performance later this evening with the rest of the group which will be followed by a reception with wine from Perraud vineyards (Sonia’s!) prior to dinner.

Also tonight, Spain will be playing France in the Eurocup. Once more, my heart lies with the Spanish team. Though, from what I can tell, it doesn’t seem as though soccer is too big here in Cluny. There are no big screens set up anywhere as I have seen done in several other cities. This isn’t too big of a deal, as long as I can catch the game somewhere!

The Beginning of the Never-Ending Citoux

This morning we woke up for our next day trip! At 9am, we departed for the Cote d’Or, about a 2 hour bus ride north. Around 11am we pulled up at the Gougry cheese production facility where they make the much anticipated Epoisses! This is a relatively stinky cheese, so we can say that walking into the building was nothing short of a big slap in the face. If anyone was sleepy from the bus ride… they weren’t anymore, that’s for sure.

We were warmly greeted and watched several videos which provided the details of the production process. We learned that Epoisses are made from the milk of 3 different breeds of cattle, Brune, Simmental, and Montbeliarde, which are combined raw and delivered to the processing facility every morning. Also, in a building adjacent to the factory, the whey waste-product of the cheese-production process is broken down to methane by bacteria which is used as an energy supply for the factory!  We all loved this use of bacteria to transform waste into something readily useful—how efficient! The curds are drained in molds, then further drained on wire racks after a generous sprinkling of salt.

We got to see the workers hand washing each cheese. Yes, all the cheeses, one-by-one, for several seconds, rubbed and shaped by hand, no gloves—to be reset on the wire racks, glistening with a fresh coat of water and Marc du Bourgougne.

We tore ourselves away from the viewing windows, eager to finally taste the Epoisses! We passed through the factory store, which had lots of goodies: dried meats, candies, honey, spreads, and, of course, a wide assortment of cheeses. We weren’t able to visit the Citoux Abbey and observe their cheese production, but this store had several wheels of Citoux stocked, one of which Cathy purchased for our picnic that afternoon. This store also had yogurt: a whole section. MY FAVORITE. I’m not kidding. I couldn’t resist buying a few: one plain, and one with visible specks of vanilla bean in it.

Back to the Epoisses. We entered the tasting room, where laid out for us on a long wooden table were prepared plates with 5 cheese wedges, small glasses of red wine, and big baskets of chewy, crisp, delicious bread. Hmm, don’t mind if I do!

The cheeses on our plates, we were instructed, clockwise from the one with the knife in it was Soumaintrain (washed in water), Plaisir au Chablis (washed in white wine), Ami du Chambertin (produced by similar method as Epoisses, but from a neighboring region), Epoisses (washed in Marc of Bourgougne and water), and Cendre de Vergy  (Epoisses rolled in vegetable ash). The cheeses were delicious. 

I think my favorite that morning was the Soumaintrain. However, I was slightly disappointed that the cheeses were still slightly chilled when served. They weren’t at their peak yet either, and should have been tasted at a gooey, room temperature. Well, after a full plate of cheese, it was time to depart for lunch: more cheese, of course!

We climbed back into the bus and ascended the mountainside, where we arrived at a few picnic tables on a hill. We set up the picnic, which included fresh bread, our new Citoux round, a Pyrenes cheese (cow and sheeps milk blend), a gooey St. Felicien, a perfectly ripe cantaloupe, and bottle of pinot noir. When we couldn’t eat any more, we cracked open a sleeve of Les Nonnettes de Dijon, which were tasty, sugar-glazed ginger cakes. We’ve come to accept that as a group, we have extra dessert stomachs always on standby for the end of the meal. 

And, now that we really were stuffed, we went on a brief walk up the mountain to visit a statue titled, “The Waking of Napoleon” before getting back onto the bus.

Laura and I in the vineyard.

Our next stop was the vineyard which was initiated by monks who had broken away from the Cluniac order in order to rededicate themselves to strict life of work and prayer. These monks worked with wine and it was here that the concept of terroir was developed. It was really cool to stand in the same place where monks had hundreds of years ago when they’d developed the concept which is today considered to be central to wine character.

 

                                                         Model of an old grape press.

 

Me with an old wooden
fermentation vat. These
were huge!

We were not done yet! We drove over to a small Chateau which was another Abbot retreat. Since there were no tours or anything planned, we spent most of the time admiring several statues which scattered the garden grounds.

 

Finally, we visited a local dairy, Fromagerie Delin, where they make several varieties of cows milk cheeses, many of which were originally created at the facility itself. We couldn’t tour the process because the setup of the buildings for the production process was not suitable for tourists viewing pleasure. So, we spoke with one of the workers, and took a peak inside their cheese shop where they sold several other cheeses in addition to the ones they produced.

 

We then made the 2 hour drive back to Cluny. I went for a quick run to break out of my sleepy daze before dinner with the group. After so much cheese and bread throughout the day, I was itching for something green on my plate. I enjoyed a perfect “Salade Siciliane” with artichokes, olives, and sundried tomatoes alongside a fresh tomato and zucchini salad.

Tomorrow, is the farmer’s market, which I’m very excited and nervous for. I’m anxious to purchase some fruits and vegetables but will I be able to communicate with the vendors? Perhaps I should practice several phrases before venturing out in the morning….

Layers and layers of history

After the standard breakfast, we found ourselves back in the classroom this morning for a lengthy discussion of cheese production. With all the talk of cheese, time flew by and we were soon ready for a lunch break. Still tired from the previous day, I stayed in for lunch with Wei Ji and Luisa. When the rest of the class returned, we resumed another 2 hour discussion of cheese production. In France, a country with at least 350 cheeses, one could discuss it forever.

This house was called the house of
dragons due to the dragon carvings
in the pillars.

At 4pm we met with Cathy Healy to check out a few historically significant houses in Cluny which were being preserved and restored. First, we visited an unrestored, but well-preserved house which was one of the first to be built in Cluny. From the high ceilings, it was clear that this was once home to a very wealthy family, and served as both a workshop and a living quarters.

Bottom left is the original floor,
top right is the present floor.

 The walls were being chipped away and the floor excavated, to peel back the centuries of layers and reveal the skeleton of the original structure.

Can you see the old painting
of a knight?

We climbed each of the three floors, and on the third floor saw some old basic wall paintings.

Old paintings and sketches
uncovered, dating back over
100 years!

Just outside, workers were busy laying down new cobblestone roads to replace the pavement that had overlain such a charismatic town feature. One by one, a man skillfully hammered each stone into place. We made our way around the construction and were welcomed into the home of our guide (something not common in French culture). 

This home, unlike the other, was beautifully restored. The entire bottom floor was filled with uncovered treasures the man had revealed during his home’s restoration, and which he was studying to better understand life in old Cluny. Artifacts were proudly displayed throughout the home, and minor features alluding the house’s previous inhabitants, such as paintings or little nooks, were cherished and exaggerated. This man was so passionate about everything he was sharing with us, we could feel his excitement at each turn, and he was anxious to show and explain to us each artifact he had lain out.

On the way back to Cluny Sejour, Cathy told us that there was someone whom she’d like us to meet. As we began to follow her, she told us she was bringing us to meet her father at his apartment, just next door. He welcomed us into his apartment, wholeheartedly aswell—he was adorable and it was a pleasure.

Overwhelmed by the passion and warmth surrounding me as I stood among my peers in Cathy’s father’s apartment, I found myself holding back tears. I couldn’t get over how genuine everyone was, and I was absolutely touched.

At 6:15 we parted to come back to the hostel. Tonight we’re going to be going to dinner and afterwards, there is a music festival going on throughout the town which we hope to walk around and enjoy. On our way back we saw several bands and food vendors beginning to set up for the evening. I believe we’re going to the town pizza place, for which I am interested to see the French interpretation of pizza.

Tomorrow we’re taking a trip to the Gaugry Fromagerie to see Epoisses being made. I’ve heard a lot about this cheese, so I’m very excited to try it!

Longest, busiest, most exciting day yet!

I'm not sure if I can handle all this bread for breakfast. Oh how I could really go for an egg, or some yogurt, or even just a piece of fruit. At least there's coffee, and for that I am thankful. Especially today, because the weather is miserable. The rain didn't hold off as hoped, but nonetheless, we're still going to Sonia's vineyard today. I'm super excited to see land, and the production facility, too! Perhaps it will clear up in time for the picnic.

At 9am, we climbed into our small travel bus and drove 30 minutes to the Macon wine-growing region. We pulled over to take a look at the mountain top below which the sloping side was covered as far as the eye could see with row after row of vines. The mountain was a 20,000 year old hunting ground and was capped by a tremendous limestone rock, which historically served as the perfect lookout spot.

In New Jersey, you'll find flat farmland that stretches far and wide covered by densely packed corn stalks. In France, on the other hand, on almost every eastern-facing slope, you'll find strategically placed plots of several parallel rows of vines.On this particular morning, given the weather, a random van could be spotted here and there, and nearby, a few men and women in heavy draped rain jackets, checking on their vines. The vines had just flowered and most had been pruned. This rain is troubling for the crop. The job of a grapegrower is demanding given mother nature's inconsistency, and the vines require constant tending.

We'd stepped out of the bus to read a bit about Chardonnay grapes on a nearby plaque, but soon after the rain really began to pick up and we clambered back in to continue the drive to Sonia's. 

Upon arrival to the newly built Perraud facility at which Sonia and her husband produce wine with grapes they grow on land inherited through her husband's family, Sonia gave us an indication of the terroir of the region by walking us to a part of the land which had be excavated. Here we could see the small limestone rocks just below the topsoil, followed by a layer of a mixture of limestone and clay about a meter deep, and finally large limestone rocks a few meters from the surface. We were told this is the perfect terroir for Chardonnay grapes. The rocky top forces to vines to extend their roots deep to the rich, mineral clay and limestone layer, and the large limestone rocks further down prevent the roots from reaching too deep and wasting energy on growing the extreme depths. Thus, older vines, at their best, 45 to 50 years in age, may reach optimal depths.

All
Chardonnay!

Chardonnay have very
green leaves.

The vines had just
flowered; now, baby grapes!

We walked over to a plot of vines that extended up hill. The vines were evenly spaced apart, and after flowering a few weeks ago were pruned to only produce about 8 bunches of grapes per vine. This, in turn, limits yields to about 50 hectolitres per hectare of land. Here, it's quality over quantity--which I like. These vines were relatively young, only about 15 years old. The vines had recently been pruned aswell at the top to prevent too much energy investment of the vine in growth upward. And finally, to prevent toppling over, the vines were wrapped around and supported by wires.

The Perraud vineyards have one hectare of red grapes, Gamay and Pinot Noir, the only red varieties grown in Macon. The rest are entirely Chardonnay. In September, the red grapes are harvested by hand and the Chardonnay is harvested mechanically by machines that shake the vines. The red grapes are dropped into fiberglass vats where they are pressed by stamping and the white are dropped in to stainless steel vats which are pressed mechanically by an internal balloon-like mechanism that swells, forcing the grapes against the wall of the vat and expelling juice.

Naturally, by means of yeasts present on the skins of the grapes, fermentation occurs. Once alcoholic fermentation begins, the grapes are moved to large vats, and eventually may or may not be put into oak barrels to undergo malolactic fermentation. Wine in barrels must be stirred for two minutes 2 to 3 times per week.

Here we had the opportunity to taste wine from the vat and from the barrels. These were cloudy in our glasses, and acidic to taste--their flavors were undeveloped and it was clear that this wine was not ready and had a long way to go. The winemaker does this kind of tasting on a daily basis to determine how to treat the wine in terms of blending juices from different terrains in order to control the aroma of the final product.

After trudging the vineyards and tasting the unfinished product, we were good and ready to set up our picnic and taste some of Perraud’s finished wines. Luckily, the rain came to a halt and we were able to set up a table outside of the warehouse, overlooking the surrounding vineyards. We set out the fruits and vegetables from our market purchases the day before (tomatoes, arugula, watermelon, apricots), lay the meats on plates (ham, salami, dried beef, and prosciutto), and unwrapped each of our carefully selected cheeses. These were a soft, herbed goat cheese, an aged Macconais goat cheese, Emmental, a blue goats milk cheese, brie de meaux, and finally a young Macconais goat cheese. After slicing up some fresh bread and pouring Perraud Chardonnay, we dug in.

The wine labels used by Perraud vineyards each have a character from Little Red Riding hood on them. These aren’t just cute—each character was selected for the label with an intricate backstory.

Full from our overstocked lunch, we cleaned up and got back onto the bus to take a drive through town before our next stop at Madame Bourdon’s Fromagerie. We passed by old town wash basins which were decorated with hung basket of flowers. These were spots where women used to come to wash clothing and are now being preserved by towns.

These goats kept popping their heads up and disappearing!
As Wei Jie said, "like Whack-a-Mole!"

Eventually, we arrive at the Bourdon Goat (Chevre) Farm. We met a few of the 70 goats which make up the farm, received a tour of the milking facility, explored “le Petit Musee des Chailloux,” and finally, with petit glasses of chilled white wine in hand, had the opportunity to taste some of Madame Bourdon’s award winning goat cheeses, which she makes with 320 litres milk from twice daily 2 hour milkings. 

Aged
to perfection

Left: Fresh
Right: Young

The fresh goat cheese was just 24 hours old, requiring 1.5 L milk. The young cheese was 2 to 3 days old, and also used 1.5 L milk. Finally, the aged goat cheese, at one week, coated in a thin layer of fuzzy blue mold, required 4.5 L milk to achieve perfection.

Why did I eat so much at lunch? THIS WAS THE MOST DELICIOUS GOAT CHEESE I’D EVER HAD.

I was so full, and Madame was pleading that we continue to eat more and more of the cheese. Upon finding out a fresh cheese was less than 2 euros and the aged cheese was only 3 euros, I died. Could I buy it all? If only we had a refrigerator at Cluny Sejour… if that were the case¸ I don’t think I could tell you how many cheeses we would have walked out of there with. 

To top it all off, we found out that Madame’s children didn’t want to take over the business and they were unsure where they’d be several years down the road. Oh boy, I’d move there in a heartbeat. Teach me the trade!

If we hadn’t already had a whirlwind of a day, after the Madame Bourdon’s farm, we ventured to the Abbot’s retreat house where we met with Dr. Reinart to observe the grounds as well as discuss a painting inside the houses accompanying church. At this point of sitting, after a filling afternoon of cheese and wine, I realized that the big midday meal knocks me right off my feet. It’s a wonderful experience at the time, but come midafternoon, I’m in delirium, physically struggling to stay conscious and battling my eyelids open. The Spanish totally got it right with the afternoon siesta.

Ever onwards! We made a final stop at the Cluny Castle which was built to have a clear view of all the surrounding land in order to keep an eye on all those arriving and departing the town.

At last, we made it back to Cluny Sejour and I went immediately to bed.