A: Ex-cursing

Q: what do you call the action of going on excursions?

As we’ve sailed down the Saône and Rhône, we’ve had the chance to take several group tours (excursions in the parlance of cruises) and a few personal side trips, too. This being France, and wine country to boot, we’ve done a few vintners.

The first was called Château de Chasselas, near the town of Mâcon. The village of Chasselas lies literally on the dividing line between the Bourgogne (Chardonnay) and Beaujolais areas. One could look at the hillside fields on one side of town and see grapes destined to be Chardonnay, while on the other side of town the grapes were headed to Beaujolais. We tasted Chardonnay while learning of the travails of the vintner, who left the high-intensity world of Paris fashion to start a family-run winery, which is also high-risk. I guess the grapes are less temperamental than Parisian fashion critics!

Next we tried Beaujolais at a winery called Domaine Paire, a family-run affair for over 400 years! Jean-Jacques recently turned over the business to his son, but he happily gave us a lesson in Beaujolais, especially the difference between the Nouveau (which has turned into something of an event despite being of, shall we say, “fresh” quality) and Cru Beaujolais which has all of the body, depth, and aroma of great French wine. We practiced the subtle art of wine tasting (first eye, then nose, then mouth) under the master’s friendly tutleage. Nothing beats a little learning reinforced with practical exercise. I looked forward to the homework!

Of course, excursion tours also involve following the flag (your cruise tour guide), while listening to a receiver hanging from your lanyard connected to an earpiece in your ear! We visited the tiny hamlet of Oingt. Bonus if you guess how to pronounce it: like a baby’s cry: “WAAH.” Once an abandoned medieval ruin, Oingt was gradually reclaimed and rebuilt by artisans and now serves as charming–albeit touristy–photo op. Still, it does provide amazing set-pieces, so why not?

Another mandatory tour stop was at Les Halles de Lyon, to which the name of chef Paul Bocuse was added after he died in 2018. This market is filled with the very best of wine, meat, fish, cheese, chocolate, bread and all things culinary. You can shop, sample, or just browse, but I guarantee you will gain five pounds even just looking!

We went off on our own to brave the wild transport system of Lyon (actually very easy to use) and visit la Maison des Canuts: the silk-weavers museum. It was a small affair, jam-packed with information about the centuries-long history of silk weaving associated with Lyon. The Canuts, or weavers, were mainstays of Lyonnais working culture, and even famously rebelled in the 1830s over government regulation (such rebellions are a passion in France). Canut culture inaugurated the bouchons (which we covered previously), the traboules (ditto), and are essential to understanding Lyon, although the Canuts themselves are in the main long-gone.

In Avignon, we ditched the crowd to find a church for Sunday Mass. Now you might think finding a church in Catholic France, let alone the one-time seat of the papacy (French Kings held various Popes hostage in Avignon for sixty-seven years) would be easy, and you would be . . . right. Despite France’s increasing secularization, we easily found the 10:00 am Sunday Mass at Avignon’s Cathedral Notre-Dame Des Doms.