Homeward Bound

As is my usual MO, I am not one to say much about departures. My heart always breaks a little bit every time I have to leave a newly discovered land, and so I try to keep the closing posts short and sweet.

We wandered over to Beaune (the only mature way to pronounce that is “Bone”) and wandered around the sweet little town. There was a market, and museum of local art & furnishings all the way back from the Middle Ages, all housed in a “flamboyant medieval hospital” (Google’s words, not mine). It looked like a genuinely gorgeous building, but sadly we had little time for more than a pleasant stroll around town and lunch. In my solo exploration I came across an absolutely delightful old gentleman, who was playing the Spanish guitar with beautiful dexterity. I settled on a bench nearby, and gazed absent-mindedly into space as I spent the last few precious minutes I had before lunch letting the music waft around me.

We had an excellent lunch, and I wrangled a taster-morsel out of Josh’s every course - I had a valid reason. He had ordered the exact dishes I would have, had I had time for a three course meal. Sadly, we had to rush away before the crème brûlée got to the table (devastating).

Then it was airport, muggy rain, train, home. I had missed our cosy flat, I won’t lie, but looking out the window and being faced with, well, other people’s windows, didn’t quite have the same magic as looking over rolling hills covered in lush vineyards and a gorgeous sun glinting off the vibrant green leaves.

Repeat visit? I certainly think so.En savoir plus