It’s only 1.5 hours on the bullet train from Paris to Dijon, and we like mustard and traveling at 300 km/h across gorgeous pastoral landscapes, so… why not?
Plus, 12 seconds of online research had informed us that Tuesday is Dijon market day, and we love markets, so… why not some more?
While markets in France certainly sound different in the specifics than those in North America, the experience in general is the same.
Farmers proudly arrange their spring produce…
… and happily discuss the merits of sunshine, good health, and perfect radishes.
People of all ages wander to gander the stalls, the wandering being as much a part of the day as the gandering.
Olives? Check. Candied popcorn? Check.
Assortments of old clocks and inner workings? Yup.
Fashion-forward accordionist? Certainment!
The produce was glorious. I didn’t inquire, but these heirloom tomatoes looked like the gene pool probably started in the kitchen gardens of Versailles.
There were dozens of different kinds of everything, a few of which we even recognized.
The cafes were perfectly crowded with satisfied shoppers, soaking up sun and killer caffeine in equal measure…
… while other attendees were just waiting for someone to kick a stray sausage their way.
(The truth is this critter is probably another canine super-model, disdaining meat and carbs in preference for a daily handful of those exquisite radishes and a nice Cote du Rhone. He and Winston would make perfect room-mates.)
In the center of the market square was a huge indoor market, perfect for ending the shopping trip out of the sun and picking up goods from the refrigerator section.
Oh my word! Who can resist those cheeses?!
Not Rick and his trusty neon-orange bulging backpack.
Note how quickly he has picked up the local sign language. He was either telling the proprietor “Close enough!” or, “Sure… give me the whole block.”
(He doesn’t mean to be easy to spot in a crowd. He’s just drawn that way.)
We wandered a ways from the market to a quiet cafe where we stopped for some lunch and “un pichet du vin.”
Rick took a moment to try out his handful of new coloring markers, bought at an art store across from the market.
They worked so nicely in his cartoon journal (some samples to follow here in the next post or two) that we decided to head back to the market to buy a whole set, et…
… Voila! The market, she was gone!
Apparently, market “day” is a term thrown around loosely in the literature. We were informed by the art store proprietor that promptly at one o’clock, everyone rolls up their radishes and smoked eels and heads for the hills.
On walking into the now completely silent grand hall, Rick stood for a moment to take it all in, then pronounced, “Wow. If you don’t get your fromage before midi, you are shit outta bon voyage!”
On the plus side, our language skills have advanced to “Franglais 101.”
Hey Rick and Kathy! Great pix from the continent. It looks like you are having the time of your life. I REALLY like the composition in your pictures.
We might be going to Sweden in June, but it’s tentative due to the sequester.
Anyway, travel safe and stay well.
Dave
Hey You Two,
Dijon go to the market? No, but Rick and Kathy did….Magnifique! More blog please. That was wonderful.
Zinc
I see they have those quaint little balconies on the apartment buildings. Sounds like market day is “Snooze, you loose”. As in not getting there on time to get what you want. What’s the name of your hotel (what’s the building look like, room number?
Hi Kathy and Rick, you are in a beautiful area and some of the bests chiefs come from this regeon.Must get out the album and look up an ancient town near by, that has been preserved through the centuries. Think it was called Perouge. Of course , that was a time before digital cameras and portable computers.Magificent area.For twenty years we covered most of France and found each area was distinctive and equally beautiful. Food is a French religion , almost as bad as the Italians.Strange that we seldom gained weight as we walked every where, including a late night stroll after dining.Cannot decide between the food or the scenery as each was a delight.
Hi Kathy and Rick, you are in a beautiful area and some of the bests chiefs come from this regeon.Must get out the album and look up an ancient town near by, that has been preserved through the centuries. Think it was called Perouge. Of course , that was a time before digital cameras and portable computers.Magificent area.For twenty years we covered most of France and found each area was distinctive and equally beautiful. Food is a French religion , almost as bad as the Italians.Strange that we seldom gained weight as we walked every where, including a late night stroll after Dining.It was a toss up between the food and the scenery. Sigh.
Maybe everyone went home to nap.
Sounds like a great expedition.