Dear all,
Our trip continues
into France:
Day 21 –
London to Épernay
Our French
train odyssey started on the Eurostar from King’s Cross direct to Paris. The
English side was mostly tunnel, but in France it was all rolling countryside
and pretty villages, like a Monet painting. Lunch in Paris was a cliché in the
best possible way: French onion soup and garlic snails, and then we were on to Épernay,
the sparkling heart of Champagne country.
Ah, France.
Land of cheese, wine, and architectural hostility toward anything with wheels. Navigating
French infrastructure with a 20kg suitcase is akin to a low-budget obstacle
course. Wheelchair users must feel like they’ve wandered into a medieval siege.
Steps, steps, steps everywhere—it’s like the country is trying to win a
Guinness World Record for Most Vertical Surfaces Per Square Metre.
Getting off
the train involved heroic leaps over yawning platform gaps. The walk to our
apartment was mercifully flat, but the building itself was a two-storey
walk-up. I arrived looking like I’d just completed a triathlon in a sauna. Our
apartment was charming though, and after a whirlwind week of socialising, we embraced
the quiet joy of collapsing onto the sofa and eating in.
Day 22 – Épernay
Épernay has
been destroyed or burned more than 20 times in its history but has nevertheless
risen like a bubbly phoenix. The Avenue de Champagne is a UNESCO World Heritage
site and is essentially the Champs-Élysées of bubbles. Beneath its elegant
mansions and châteaux lie over 100km of chalk cellars storing millions of
bottles. It’s said to be more valuable per square metre than the Champs-Élysées
itself, mostly because of the champagne, not the real estate.
We started
with a stroll down the avenue, with our first stop at Moët & Chandon. We
didn’t do a tour—just wandered around the elegant courtyard and took photos
like champagne groupies. The house produces a staggering 33 million bottles a
year. Founded in 1743, Moët, was a favourite of Napoleon Bonaparte, who
allegedly took cases with him on military campaigns. Nothing says “imperial
conquest” like a celebratory toast.
Our first visit
was the Château de Venoges. We toured the beautiful chateau and then discovered
the history of the champagne house. Founded in 1837 by Swiss émigré Henri-Marc de
Venoge, the house pioneered illustrated bottle labels and then created their famous
Cuvée des Princes in tribute to the Princes of Orange. The house even won the
Grand Prix d’Excellence at the Philadelphia Centennial Exposition in 1876, an
epic world fair attracting over 10 million visitors. We celebrated this historical
success with two glasses of champagne for breakfast. There was also a tiny cheese
platter.
We walked the
length of the Avenue to Champagne Mercier, founded in 1858 by Eugène
Mercier, a visionary man with a flair for marketing who believed champagne
should be delicious and dramatic. He built 18 kilometres of underground cellars
and once created a wine barrel so large it could hold 200,000 bottles. The
underground train ride through the Mercier cellars was like Disneyland for adults
and included two more glasses of champagne.
Having
consumed four glasses and a single cube of cheese, Katie was now delightfully
light-headed. The Avenue de Champagne is all bubbles, no baguettes, so we
returned to Château de Venoges for a more substantial food offering – and
another glass of champagne – restoring us to semi-functionality.
In the late afternoon
we visited Boizel Champagne House, founded in 1834 by Auguste and Julie
Boizel, admiring their underground cellars, collection of vintage bottles, and
their meticulous commitment to ageing and blending. Naturally, we sampled two
more glasses. The day ended with another quiet evening in our apartment, and we
may have fallen asleep on the sofa.
Day 23 –
Épernay
Today we
embarked on a champagne tour into the countryside around Épernay in what was
described as a “vintage car.” I had visions of something from the 1940s with
fins and chrome, but instead we were greeted by a tiny bright blue 1977 Citroën
2CV. Technically vintage, yes, but mildly confronting as it looked like it had
been assembled from a child’s Meccano set.
As we set
off, it started to rain lightly. Apparently, driving and window-shutting are
mutually exclusive activities in this charmingly impractical car, so we had to pull
over to manually close the windows.
We drove down
the Avenue and set out into the hills. We passed the home of Bernard
Arnault, the third richest man in the world and owner of LVMH, which includes
Moët, Veuve Clicquot, and Louis Vuitton. The countryside was stunning, and we
learned that vineyard landscape always follows a strict hierarchy: forests at
the top (to protect the grapes from strong winds), vines in the middle, and
agriculture at the bottom close to the villages. All grapes are picked by hand,
mostly by Romanian workers who descend on the region specifically for the
harvest. Around 125,000 people arrive for this annual grape-picking frenzy,
which lasts just 3–4 weeks.
We visited
the village of Cramant, a Grand Cru village famed for its Chardonnay
grapes. The terroir here is so revered that it’s practically holy ground for
Blanc de Blancs lovers. The chalky slopes and complex geology make for wines
with bright acidity and a touch of minerality—ideal for those who like their
champagne with a bit of geological backstory. At the Julien Chopin
Champagne House in Monthelon, we toured the cellars and sampled their
creations. The Chopin family has been crafting champagne for three generations
since 1947, and their bubbles speak for themselves. We also learned about their
Ratafias Champenois—fortified wines that sound like something you'd drink while
plotting a revolution.
Next came the
highlight: sabrage. The noble art of opening a champagne bottle with a sword.
We were taught the technique at a scenic viewpoint, and naturally, once the
bottle was open, it had to be consumed. Thankfully, it was a small one—safety
first.
Our little
blue car continued to attract attention wherever we went. It was a comedy act
just getting in and out. And it’s hard to be inconspicuous when you’re driving
something that looks like a toy and sounds like a sewing machine.
Back on the
Avenue, we visited the Museum of Champagne, which covers everything from
geology and archaeology to the history of champagne and Belle Époque explorers.
It’s beautifully curated, but I now know more about chalk strata and
fermentation than I ever intended.
Katie
insisted on a final tasting at Perrier-Jouët, which boasts a spectacular
Art Nouveau garden. Founded in 1811 by Pierre-Nicolas Perrier and Rose-Adélaïde
Jouët, the house is known for its floral Belle Époque bottles and its enduring
love affair with nature and the arts. Their son Charles was a botanist, and the
house’s aesthetic is a tribute to the Art Nouveau movement, complete with
Japanese anemones and a philosophy of re-enchanting the everyday.
We returned to
our apartment for a rest and finished the day with a lovely dinner in the
village, secure that we have now reached peak champagne knowledge.
Day 24 – Épernay
to Dijon
Today was a
travel day. We took the train to Reims, an important French city with an
impressive cathedral where French kings were crowned. During World War II,
Reims played a pivotal role in one of the most significant moments in modern
history: the unconditional surrender of Nazi Germany, which effectively
ended the war in Europe. On May 7, 1945, at 2:41 a.m., German
General Alfred Jodl signed the surrender document in a modest school
building in Reims, which had been commandeered by SHAEF (Supreme Headquarters
Allied Expeditionary Force), led by General Dwight D. Eisenhower. This act
marked the official end of hostilities in Western Europe.
A slow
meander through the countryside took us on to Dijon, a city that just oozes
history. Everywhere we looked there were cobbled streets and buildings that had
seen a few centuries. Our apartment was a charming and very quaint 16th-century
crooked timber-framed building. It was all so beautiful that we wandered around
the town aimlessly, and ended sitting in a bar overlooking a plaza, sipping
drinks and watching people go by. Very “la vie est belle.”
Day 25 –
Dijon
Ah, Dijon.
Famous for mustard, yes, but also for being the capital of the Duchy of
Burgundy. Dijon was a powerhouse in
medieval Europe. The Dukes of Burgundy were so influential they made the French
kings nervous. The city flourished in the 14th and 15th centuries, becoming a
centre of art, architecture, and of course mustard. Dijon’s spicy legacy began
in the 13th century and continues to this day, to the delight of condiment
enthusiasts everywhere.
We did a
self-guided walking tour called “The Owl’s Trail,” marked by 22 brass owl
plaques embedded in the pavement, guiding you through the city’s most iconic
sites. The tour took us through cobbled streets and parks, admiring historic 17th
century mansions with Burgundian tiled roofs that look like medieval patchwork
quilts, an 18th century triumphal arch, and a timber-framed house
from 1483 that looks like it should be in a fairy tale. The Notre Dame church
was a 13th-century Gothic marvel with gargoyles (I love gargoyles) and the
famous magic owl carved into its wall. Legend says touching it
brings good luck. We touched it. We’re still waiting.
We also
visited the Palais des Ducs des États de Bourgogne, the former palace of
the powerful Dukes of Burgundy. We climbed the tower of Philippe le Bon,
all 321 steps up to the top. It was quite the cardio workout, but the view was
worth it: rooftops, spires, and a fantastic panorama of the historic city.
Philippe the Good ruled Burgundy in the 15th century and founded the Order of
the Golden Fleece, a very fancy knightly club.
We had a lunch
was at Les Halles, the covered market designed by Gustave Eiffel
(yes, that Eiffel). Katie went wandering around the market
stalls using her French to construct a feast of bread, cheese, wine, oysters,
pastries, and more wine. Very French. Very delicious. Very likely to require a
nap afterwards.
After-lunch, Katie
went for said nap while I ventured into the Museum of Fine Arts, which was
indeed fine, though laid out like a labyrinth. I got lost, found some art, got
lost again, and eventually stumbled out into the sunlight. On the way back, I
discovered the huge mustard shop in Maison Millière and set myself the
challenge of sampling every mustard they offered. Mission accomplished. I now
understand why Dijon is the condiment capital of the world.
That evening we
managed to “rendez-vous” with Brisbane friends Jeremy and Leona for drinks and
dinner in Place François Rude, named after the sculptor of La
Marseillaise on the Arc de Triomphe. The plaza was lively, the wine
flowed, and dinner was delicious.
Day 26 –
Dijon to Saint-Léger-sur-Dheune
We caught a
free bus to the train station with Jeremy and Leona, and then a train to Saint-Léger-sur-Dheune,
which took a mere 45 minutes. Saint-Léger-sur-Dheune is tiny, so we walked into
town and stopped for a leisurely lunch at the only restaurant, while waiting
for the rest of our nautical crew.
By 2pm, the full
crew of 12 had assembled, variously travelling from Italy, Provence and Paris.
We convened at the barge company, loaded the gear and the boat captains did
driver training. We had three boats altogether, each with three cabins but only
four people on each boat to allow a bit of extra space for extraneous luggage.
We settled in
for a team dinner of French cheese and bread on the back of the biggest boat,
washed down with French champagne—a meal so stereotypically French it may as
well have come with a beret. Katie presented me with a sabrage sword which she
had secretly purchased in Epernay, so I demonstrated my new-found skill with
moderate success.
Cheers
from Derek, Katie, Matt, Jessie, Molly & Pippa
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