Arles-to-Dijon River Cruise, Day 6: Mâcon

We docked this morning in Mâcon, a city in the south of Burgundy with the obligatory 11^th century cathedral, 19^th century church, massive city hall, narrow lanes, and Renaissance-era houses.  The day dawned cold and cloudy, to the point where I went back inside the ship twice before setting off on my bike tour – once to grab an additional fleece layer and again to buy a pair of warm gloves.

After riding along main roads to get out of the city, we biked mostly on dedicated bike lanes and paths.  A long uphill near the beginning of the ride left me questioning my sanity – to the extent there was still enough oxygen reaching my brain to permit such questioning – but the route then evened out, as did my breathing.

There wasn’t any striking scenery, or at least none that we could see through the fog shrouding the hills.  Nor was there an exciting destination at the turnaround point, a winery called Cave des Deux Roches (Cellar of the Two Rocks). 

Of course, when I saw the winery sign, I thought of (1) the Roches, a trio of sisters who wrote and sang gorgeous songs – look them up if you haven’t heard them – and (2) a line from an obscure but terrific Crosby Stills & Nash tune, “Pre-Road Downs”: “Hotels and midnight coaches / be sure to hide the roaches.”  That’s irrelevant to this travelogue, but it is symptomatic of my memory consisting largely of old song lyrics and music trivia.

You might think that the weather conditions and unremarkable scenery hampered my enjoyment of the ride.  Far from it!  Once we were out of Mâcon, the still air and serene surroundings were invigorating, and I got to talk at length (and without gasping, thanks to the flat terrain) with some amiable fellow passengers.  I came back to the ship both energized and relaxed, as well as considerably less guilty about my food and wine consumption the preceding day.

Being in Burgundy, and having pedaled away yesterday’s wine, I naturally signed up for a winery tour this afternoon.  So, after lunch and wandering around the center city area in Mâcon, I boarded a bus to Chateau de Pierreclos, a centuries-old winery perched in the rolling hills outside Mâcon.

Robert Louis Stevenson famously wrote that “wine is bottled poetry.”  I’ll take that as license to inflict this on you:

The hills are patched in corduroy,

Green squares of vines in serried rows.

The harvest’s done, time to enjoy

Some wines of rich and pleasant nose.

The cellar’s walled with oaken casks

And iron tools from age gone by,

The tastes are poured, you sip and bask

In sun-drenched nips, some sweet, some dry.

From chardonnay to pinot noir,

From Pouilly-Fuissé to peach liqueur,

I’d welcome them while at the bar,

But now we must resume our tour.

Alas, I sense my verses aren’t a hit –  

I think it’s time to put a cork in it.

*******

Don’t blame me; blame Mr. Stevenson.

Before catching up with our ship in Tournus, where we’re docked tonight, we made a quick stop to marvel at the Rock of Solutré, an iconic limestone spire rising nearly 500 meters. 

Tomorrow I’ll do a city tour in Tournus followed by a relaxing afternoon on the ship.  Until then, a votre santé!