Oh yes, Beaune

Over breakfast at our Normandy B&B, the owner asked where we were off to next in France. I replied "Beaune", pronounced "Bone" according to my Lonely Planet book. The owner gave me a blank look. I said it again -- Beaune. Nothing. Finally, he thought for a minute and said, "oh yes, you mean Beaune". Which, as far as I could tell, is exactly what I said. This is not a new experience -- it has happened to us over the years in at least 4 or 5 European languages. Now, if a foreigner said to me they were headed to Wushington or New Yark or Les Vegas, I think I would probably get the drift. Not so in Europe. But I digress.

Beaune is in Burgundy, the primo wine region of France. No blends allowed here -- the reds are only pinot noir, the whites are only chardonnay, and there is a grading system that is roughly comparable in complexity to the IRS tax code. We went to a bistro the first night where you pick your own bottle of wine from their cellar -- we went cheap (in Burgundy terms - 26 euros) and ended up with an absolutely stunning 2005 old vine Burgundy pinot noir. It was clear these folks were not messing about. Our good friend Josh came down from Paris and spent the 3 days with us -- we ate, we drank, we learned a grand cru from a premier cru from a village appelation (Andrea could teach a sommelier course at this point, while Josh and I focused more on the the ingesting of alcohol aspect). But most glamorously, we did laundry at a laundromat for the first time. Andrea and I are carrying 12 days worth of stuff with us -- we did our first laundry in Scotland at our friend Lisa's house, but this was the first run in public. Thank god Josh was there, and not just because he speaks/reads fluent French. Neither Andrea nor I have ever done laundry at a laundromat (I can hear our big city friends groan) and so the concept of how to buy soap from the machine, where you pour it, how you buy dryer time, and general laundromat etiquette (can I head out for a baguette or do I have to stay here and stare at my sole belongings spin round and round?) were all lost on us. I'm happy to report we left Beaune with happy taste buds, whites still white, and brights still bright.