Plucky Survivors See Europe Day 24: Zurich to Dijon

Let’s talk about how hot it is for a moment.  Yesterday, France broke an all-time record for heat.  They take measurements at 30 stations around the country and average those out and it was higher than it has ever been.  Today and tomorrow may be even higher.

Look, I live in Savannah.  I understand heat.  But I rarely drive hundreds of miles or walk for long distances when it is stupid hot at home.  On this trip that’s all I’m doing, plus lugging heavy suitcases often up and down stairs (these old hotels aren’t big on accessibility).

In short, it’s freakin’ hot and that means I’m not doing as much as I could or should in the last few days.

The drive from Zurich is efficient but kind of boring – mostly rolling hills, fields, and the occasional city to pass through.  Basel was a confusing mess, with Google Maps not helping much.  I made a couple of very last minute “oops, I need to go that way” maneuvers that could’ve gotten me a job as a stunt driver on “Dukes of Hazzard” back in the day.

I crossed into France the rest of the drive was pretty uneventful, although toll booths still give me great anxiety.

They’re different in every country.  Germany doesn’t have any toll roads at all.  Czechia, Austria, and Switzerland are all done by registering the car and the license plate in advance online and then plate readers take care of the rest, so no toll booths at all.  Italy and France have a couple of different kinds of toll booths.  In some you take a ticket and then pay when you get off the toll road.  Others, you pay when you get to the toll booth for the next chunk of road you’re going to be driving.

But every time I see I’m approaching a booth, my blood pressure spikes because I’m convinced I’ll be that dumbass who won’t be able to figure out how to make it work and I’ll have a line of angry French people behind me ready to pummel me with baguettes.  It hasn’t happened yet, but I’m sure it will at some point.

Along the way, I spotted a sign that nearly derailed my journey.  It was for an attraction called Dino Zoo.  If that doesn’t get your attention, I don’t think I want to be your friend anymore.  On the original Plucky journeys, Mary and I actively sought out what we called “crappy concrete dinosaur bliss” and had an adventure at one such park in Arkansas that was permanently closed.  We ignored the posted “no trespassing” signs and hiked in anyway, waiting for someone to chase us off with a shotgun at any moment.

I pulled into the nearest rest area and immediately started Googling.  Dino Zoo is a theme park of sorts with giant concrete (or stone or something) dinosaurs, rides, and more.  I seriously considered going but then I stepped out of the car and said, “nope.”  The entirety of the park is outdoors and involves a lot of walking in 100-degree heat.  I’ve put it on my list of places to come back to in the future.

I got to Dijon around 1pm and the room wasn’t ready, so I walked about a block to get something to eat at L’Edito Dijon, which was one of the only places open.  A lot of restaurants, stores, and businesses are closing because the heat is so dangerous.  The high today was 103, which I understand is a degree shy of the all-time record. 

They had a wide-ranging menu that all sounded too heavy for how hot it is, so I got a nice light hamburger with a fried egg, bacon, fried onions, cheese, tomatoes, and barbeque sauce.  Oh, shut up.  It was good, but I didn’t eat a lot of it.

The room was ready and it’s lovely, with small balconies on three sides, one facing the plaza I had just taken a picture of.  Too bad it’s too hot to enjoy them.

A few doors down was what I thought was the Mulot and Petitjean gingerbread factory where you can take a tour and get samples.  In business since 1796 (not a typo), they are one of the world’s most renown makers of European gingerbread, which is different than the American style you’re used to at Christmas.

However, the place I stopped at wasn’t the factory, just a shop.  The factory, I was told, “Is just down the street.”

I’ve run into a lot of liars on this trip.

It was about a mile in 100+ degree heat with not a hint of shade or a breeze.  By the time I figured out the error in judgement I had made, I had gone too far to turn back.

The factory tour is more of a historical attraction, with screens that come to life as you approach them giving you the history of the company and how gingerbread is made.  At the end of it, I got four small samples – traditional Dijon gingerbread, a sweetened style, one with raspberry, and one with apricot.  This is more cake-ish than what I normally associate with gingerbread, but it was still good and I got some of the raspberry to go.

I took an Uber back to the hotel and literally chilled for a few hours. There was more I wanted to do, but it was unbearable outside so most of Dijon is on my “maybe next time” list.

Earlier in the day, I dopped off my laundry at a nearby place that does it all for you, thus saving me a couple of hours in a laundromat.  The very nice – and very handsome – owner had it done in a coupe of hours.  16 pounds of clothes for 12 Euros (about $14).  I gave him 20 Euros and my eternal gratitude.  If you’re ever in Dijon and need to have your clothes washed, dried, and folded, go to Novitaqua Laverie & Blanchisserie Artisinal. 

I went a long ways for dinner… as in downstairs to the hotel restaurant La Jardin.  It’s highly regarded, recognized by both the Michelin Guide and Gault & Millau.

It’s a fine dining experience that included several starters that the very sweet waitress explained to me in French, so I don’t know what I was eating other than I verified that none of it had nuts.  It was all very good – gastronomic in construction and flavors.

They were offering a cheese plate with selections from Alain Hess, a master cheesemonger and now that I know such a job exists, I want it.  Again, the only thing I got out of the waitress was that one of them was brie, but they were all simply perfect.

Dinner was Wagyu beef with potato puree.  It was a little undercooked for my taste, but it was still very good.  I ate way too much.

After dinner, I was hoping it would have cooled off enough to maybe go for a walk, but as I type this, it is after 9pm and it’s still 98 degrees.  Sorry, Dijon.

Tomorrow it’s off to Paris and once I arrive there it’s almost two solid weeks with no driving (other than to the airport to fly to London).