Friar Fredric greeted us and was rather taken with Alex's mop of blonde hair. We walked outside together, him wearing his long robes of black and white secured with a knotted leather belt around his slim waste, the sky had turned dark and mysterious. "The sky is dark, I am sorry" he said with a shrug of his shoulders and a smile. He turned out to be quite the joker, AJ was surprised, so was I. Frair Fredric showed us around the Abbey. Much of it had been destroyed during the Revolution, with the exception of the 15th century biblioteque. We followed him up the spiral staircase made of cold stone to where the original manuscrips are housed. They were beautiful and Friar Fredric spent time explaining and showing things to AJ.
The thunder clapped the loudest I had ever heard and the heavens opened. A sureal feeling while in an old Abbaye standing beside a monk looking out the window, smiling and nodding. Can't say that has ever happened to me before.
The thunder clapped the loudest I had ever heard and the heavens opened. A sureal feeling while in an old Abbaye standing beside a monk looking out the window, smiling and nodding. Can't say that has ever happened to me before.
The monks make a very well respected washed rind cheese, it has a fine reputation in Burgundy so I wanted to do a little digging and find out all about it. Friar Fredric was a closed book on the matter, obviously not a foodie. I happened upon Friar Raphael, I had hit the sweet spot. It turned out this monk is responsible for tending the cheese from when it is 2 days old to when it is packaged (about 20 or so days). He was so full of information and only too willing to share it. Our discussions ended at prayer time when we bought half a wheel of his sweet fromage, tasting of pasture, and bade him farewell.
We traveled around with no compass and ended up in St-Jean-de-Losne, a canal town not far from Dole. Our tummies were growling and we had packed one of our famous picnics, all we needed was a baguette and we were set. Not so easy to find today. It was mid afternoon and all the boulangers were closed, so were two supermarkets we tried. After much tooing and froing, we found a little artisan boulanger and were armed with a big, crusty baguette to accompany our goodies.
Finding a picnic spot can sometimes be tricky too but we set off in search of one. As we drove along, I saw two baby deer grazing in a field. I had kept saying to the boys that I just wanted to see a deer, the last I had seen was in the distance in the countryside of Lyon. It was a lovely sight to see.
By the time we found a suitable picnic spot in the shade, with a table, and by a river (we don't ask for much) it was after 3 - we were starving. We sat beside a crystal clear stream, I had never seen a stream so clear and perfect before and we had a great time. Certainly not a picnic from hell as they sometimes can be.
We had to be in Bligny-sur-Ouch for 5.30 so on we pressed. The country side is lovely here, hilly and painted green in one direction and gold in the other. There was time for a quick coffee in the bar that spilled out onto the village square. As we were about to leave, the wind came in a huge gust, blowing chairs along the ground and things off tables. We ran for the cover of the car. Mother Nature had another storm in store for us, just as we were about to board our steam train ride for a degustation of local products in the lovely Vallee d'Ouche.
Lucky for us, and everyone else, the storm came and went and we clickey clacked along the tracks under a sky of blue. Over the next few hours we rode the steam train and stopped at Thorey-sur-Ouche to enjoy a taste of regional products. The chevre was lovely, mild and smooth and the gougeres were light and cheesy, AJ loved them and so did we. JR loved the pain d'espice studded with fruit and nuts, cassis made an appearance as confiture spread on sweet bread. Everyone ate and drank wine without a care in the world.
We had to be in Bligny-sur-Ouch for 5.30 so on we pressed. The country side is lovely here, hilly and painted green in one direction and gold in the other. There was time for a quick coffee in the bar that spilled out onto the village square. As we were about to leave, the wind came in a huge gust, blowing chairs along the ground and things off tables. We ran for the cover of the car. Mother Nature had another storm in store for us, just as we were about to board our steam train ride for a degustation of local products in the lovely Vallee d'Ouche.
Lucky for us, and everyone else, the storm came and went and we clickey clacked along the tracks under a sky of blue. Over the next few hours we rode the steam train and stopped at Thorey-sur-Ouche to enjoy a taste of regional products. The chevre was lovely, mild and smooth and the gougeres were light and cheesy, AJ loved them and so did we. JR loved the pain d'espice studded with fruit and nuts, cassis made an appearance as confiture spread on sweet bread. Everyone ate and drank wine without a care in the world.
The train made its way through the valley, passing cows with their calves, sticky-beaking at us all aboard this noisy steam train, they couldn't take their eyes off us. As we returned to Bligny-sur-Ouche the sun was soft and low, the shaddows were long, and we were tired after our day of adventure and discovery.
