I digress. I seem to do that a lot. lol. So the plan for today is: we will check in at Chateau de Bagnols (yes, I'm staying in a castle!!!), then explore the surrounding countryside by foot, then eat at the well-acclaimed Bistrot Gastronomique for supper. It's hard to say which will cost more: our room or the meal. I'm guessing the meal.
Due to the record-breaking heat wave in our region, spurring an "orange alert," we have planned a very short randonnée today. We have not been out hiking since we came back from Lyon 3 days ago, when we walked the 3km route along Cours Lafayette to the train station, then rode the train to Lozanne, where we had to transfer to a very hot bus to Chamelet, and then hike up the hill from Chamelet with our bags... all in 35 degree heat. While the grapes in Le Cret seem to love the heat, Colin and barely made it up the hill. I had to stop at every tiny patch of shade, and pour water over my head. Then I climbed into a cold shower for about 30 mins to get my body temperature back to normal. A sign in Chamelet warned us what to expect over the next couple days: 40 degrees Celsius. Which brings us to today.
I can't handle NOT hiking at Bagnols, so I plot out a small figure-8 route, which will give us the opportunity to expand or contract our hike as needed. From the centre of "downtown" Bagnols, we'll head North up to Voie du Tacot, which will give us the option to extend our walk to Frontenas (adding on an extra 1.5km), or just head back with a short and sweet 2.5km loop. Then we will have the option to go South to Chapelle Saint Roch, on a short 2km loop. We end up tacking on Frontenas, then regretting it as we trudged back to Bagnols under the boiling 38 degree sun.
Arriving at Bagnols an hour before checkin, we hope to be able to check our bags at reception and head out immediately for our randonnée. We are pleasantly surprised to be told our room is ready, and the Concierge appears to give us a full tour of the facilities. Perhaps what is even more surprising is that the Concierge carries our suitcase throughout the tour, instead of dropping it at our room, or leaving it downstairs, or sending it ahead with a bellboy.
The reception is adjacent to the restaurant. The Concierge shows us the ornate fireplace mantle built for King Charles VIII's one-night stay. Apparently, in cooler months, this is the best table in the house and one can request to sit there. However, in 40 degree weather, we are looking forward to the sitting outside on the lavender-lined patio overlooking the gardens.
After touring the restaurant, the Concierge takes us upstairs to the Guest Lounge, a luxurious space with purple couches set before a gigantic fireplace and a "Petit Salon de Chasse" (The Small Hunting Salon) through what used to be a traboule on the right side of the fireplace. The Salon is covered in murals depicting hunting, but is somehow not macabre. The Guest Lounge is just a short hallway from our room.
Next, the Concierge takes us to "our room," which brings another surprise. We had reserved an "Authentic" room, the least expensive of the castle's offerings, whose most luxurious suites can soar to over 700 Euro per night. However, it seems we have been upgraded to the Guichard d'Oingt room, which is in the "Elegant" category. I'm all for upgrades, especially when they come with a complimentary bottle of Chateau de Bagnols vintage wine!
It's extra cool to be in the Guichard d'Oingt room, as he was the first owner of Bagnols in 1221. The Concierge explains every detail of our room, including the rather disconcerting toilet situation. "Don't be concerned," he assures us, leading us into the guard turret that serves as our bathroom. "There is indeed a modern toilet here. You see, this wooden chair is not actually a chair. You must lift the seat to find the toilet. Many guests call reception in a panic that there is no toilet, but it is here." The waterspout for the gigantic bathtub is carved like a dragon's head, and there are two slitted windows which used to serve as defensive positions for archers.
The view out our windows is gorgeous... I can't wait to sit in the reclining chairs among the trees, looking out at the countryside far below.
I barely contain my excitement until the Concierge departs, at which point I race around the room excitedly. I'm in a castle! I'm in a castle! You may call me Baroness! (Sounds much more mature than Princess. lol) I pose dramatically on the bed with the King Louis XIV purple silk and velvet canopy, in front of the 17th Century tapestry.
After storing our luggage, we are finally ready for our randonnée. We leave the castle by walking on the drawbridge over the moat, take a left at the courtyard with the fountain, and pass the Bagnols wine cellar. I take a great photo of our room from the outside. Colin asks a valet steward at the outer door about our vehicle: we have parked outside at the Mairie. The valet very graciously offers to go get our vehicle from the Mairie and park it inside the castle gates... even after we tell him that our vehicle is the camionette. lol. I feel a little like Cinderella, pulling up to the castle in a pumpkin...
After storing our luggage, we are finally ready for our randonnée. We leave the castle by walking on the drawbridge over the moat, take a left at the courtyard with the fountain, and pass the Bagnols wine cellar. I take a great photo of our room from the outside. Colin asks a valet steward at the outer door about our vehicle: we have parked outside at the Mairie. The valet very graciously offers to go get our vehicle from the Mairie and park it inside the castle gates... even after we tell him that our vehicle is the camionette. lol. I feel a little like Cinderella, pulling up to the castle in a pumpkin...
After leaving he castle gates, we head out on Highway D38E, which takes us through the centre of town. We are confused as to why there are pink banners draped on every public edifice; the staff at Bagnols had said nothing about it to us on our very thorough tour.
Just past the 15th century church, we reach a fork in the road, and take the left fork to stay on D38E, also called Au Bret at this point because it takes us to Le Bret.
Reaching the yellow randonnée signpost called Voie de Tacot, we continue on towards Le Frontenas. We pass a wonderfully shady little picnic area and a Memorial Stele to Lyon horticulturist Antoine Perrin.
We decide to take the Route des Carrières to the Chemin de Saint Abram, which is a lovely little road through endless vineyards. Where the two roads meet is a teeny park with a well-tended Madonna. Saint Abram appears to be an equally teeny village of about 6 houses. We pass through it to arrive in Frontenas (population 786).
The Frontenas church boasts a 12th Century door and a cockrel on its bell tower. Apparently, the earliest mentions of this church (in 1297) was in the will of a certain Guichard d'Oingt! I miss taking a photo of the statue of this church's patron: Saint Austregesile, also known as the bishop of Saint Nizier. Oh darn, now I have the Xena theme song back in my head!
After the church, we follow the pink bows to the Lavoir, also known as the Angles Crossroads. This public bath/washhouse has been traditionally used by pilgrims travelling through the region. The water is cool and clear and we wonder about the protocols of using it ourselves on this hot hot day.
The yellow randonnée signpost at Le Lavoir points us towards "All Directions," so we cross the Highway D19 and head out of town on Les Grands Prés which takes us directly back to Bagnols. An unidentified raptor circles overhead as we pass the Croix de Malicot.
We can finally see the castle in the distance, and decide against the second loop to the South of the castle. All I can talk about is the Bagnols swimming pool.
We pass the Pigeonner du Chateau, which seems like a grand edifice lording it over the vineyards, but which is really the place where the 17th Century castle-folk stored their manure fertilizer and raised the fowl meant for the kitchen. Nice combo. The sign declares both to be "nuisances" that rich folk wanted to keep far away from their everyday lives.
The yellow Pigeonner du Chateau signpost tells us we have only 0.3km left to go until the Bagnols swimming pool, which is how I am now visualizing our destination.
We buzz in through the gate of the castle, rush through the courtyard and over the moat, grab our suits from our rooms, and head directly into the indoor pool in the castle spa, located off the courtyard. There is also an outdoor pool at the castle, which might have been nice, but our earlier tour with the Concierge revealed too many children heading in that direction. We float around lazily in the indoor pool all by ourselves for over half an hour. Sadly, we can't figure out how to start the water fountain in the pool, but we have fun turning various jets on and off. After cooling down significantly, we lounge around in the fluffy robes and slippers provided to us. I could seriously get used to this!
We head back to the room for pre-dinner wine and cookies, but despite the swim and a cold shower to freshen up, the heat of the day's randonnée has really gotten to Colin, who opts for a nap after his first small glass of wine. I sit sipping my wine by the fireplace when there is a knock on the door. The Concierge is there asking if we need anything. I tell him we are fine, and he hands me a small box of gourmet chocolates. I could REALLY REALLY get used to this! ;) I wake up Colin before I inhale the entire box. It's only then that I notice the little card that accompanied the chocolates, telling me the weather forecast for tomorrow: 37 degrees Celsius. After today's randonnée experience, I think we will have to reconsider the route I had selected for tomorrow.
It's time to head down to the restaurant. Being crazy Canadians, we selected the earliest possible dinner time, 7:30pm, and we are completely alone in the restaurant, save one other table having drinks among the lavender above the moat wall.
The suppers are all set by the chef, and we decide on a 4-course meal for Colin and a 3-course meal for me (which means he gets a cheese plate, which he has promised to share with me). We order the House Kir, which turns out is a Kir Royale, made with champagne. How appropriate, considering Colin and I are celebrating 20 years together.
Then the most amazing amuse-bouche I've ever seen arrives to our table, compliments of the chef. You have to see it to truly appreciate the artistry. The "plate" is a slice of wood, and nestled into a bed of moss are three types of bite-sized treats: "cherry tomatoes" made of tomato soup barely contained in a thin shell of tomato paste, "truffles" made of cream and mushrooms, and "choux croutes" filled with seafood. They are as delicious as they are artful.
As we wait for our appetizers to arrive, Colin notices a guest sitting behind me in a yellow T-shirt reading "Hyper Cute: chic et choc." He twiddles his "Santana" mustache and adjusts his retro 80s shades. We decide he must be a celebrity.
The sommelier arrives to help us select a wine. We tell her we usually like Cote du Rhone and Languedoc, but they seem too heavy for a hot day like today. She suggests a Borgogne (Pinot Noir) Vieilles Vines by Michael Sarrazin, which we have never tried before. "Does it have large tannins?" Colin manages to ask with a straight face. (It does.)
The next course to arrive is smoked salmon in watermelon consommé, followed by a selection of breads. Since the bread is delicious, and we would like to ask for more, I practice saying "pain." I've recently noticed that people here say "pahn" whereas I've always said the word more like "ein." I don't know if that is a regional accent thing, or if I've just been saying it wrong for years.
Colin's foie gras arrives with a little mushroom-like loaf of bread. My escargot comes in tiny dumpling-like containers. Next, I get white fish with gnocchi, and Colin gets pigeon, which comes surrounded in a layer of foie gras with a side-dish of foie gras shaped like a little log. The cutlery is amazing, and I learn they are made in England and modeled after 18th Century cutlery that is no longer in production. One of the former owners of the castle, Helen Hamlyn, had done much research into circa 17-18th Century design, and ordered 500 pieces of flatware and glassware to be created especially for Bagnols in the 1990s.
As the sun sets over the countryside, more and more guests arrive to start their suppers, while we are nearing the end of ours. Our cheese plate ends up being more of a cheese platter, and the server asks us which ones we would like to sample. We have no idea at what point the number of cheeses we select will reveal us to be uncivilized boors, so we select four. It seems like we could have chosen more. Then a surprise dessert arrives: a tiny marshmellow in strawberry coulis, topped with a tiny scroll of white chocolate. For dessert, I select the "assortment of chocolate" while Colin picks the Pina Colada baba. They arrive with a set of three tiny sweets on the side. After a few bites, we decide we prefer each other's dessert and swap.
After dinner, we stroll around the gardens, then sit in reclining chairs and admire the full red moon.
We look forward to a restful sleep, but it is not to be. The weather is so hot, we are up at 2:30am. It's a stone castle: how can it be so hot in here?!?! I search the suite for fans, coming up empty. Colin opens all the windows. I try splashing cold water on myself, but it evaporates before I can get back into bed. Eventually, I crawl into the tub and turn the water on as cold as it will go, running it over myself until I start shivering. Finally, it is cool enough to sleep.
In the morning, the moon is still hanging in the sky. We decide to skip the 32 Euro continental breakfast, because for Colin, after last night's meal, "everything tastes like foie gras." Plus, we can't stomach paying 32 Euro for a croissant. After an espresso made in our room by the most convenient machine ever (you drop in a pod and don't even need to remove it after!), we repeat our garden walk in the daylight, visiting the outdoor pool and considering a dip. The children start arriving, so we decide to instead sit up on the reclining chairs in the upper garden, where there is shade and a breeze.
Refreshed, we are ready to head out for our randonnée in Ternand, but due to the heat, we decide to cut short our planned hike around the countryside, and simply walk around in the city itself, where their yearly Medieval Festival is taking place. Ternand is a small town (population 715) built around a 12th century castle and church housing 8-10th century frescos.
As we check out of Chateau de Bagnols, I see a flyer that finally explains the pink banners: we are in the middle of the Beaujolais Rosé wine festival. In fact, the Ternand Medieval Festival is listed as one of the featured activities.
As we arrive in Ternand, we are directed to park in a field next to the Mairie and catch a bus up the hill to the centre of town. On the next hill, someone has carved their field into a heart. We notice a very tall man rushing towards the bus with a huge suitcase. Arriving at the top of the hill, we are let out and pass through the entrance gate. We soon see the tall man fully decked out in chain mail!
There are many people in costume here, wandering the streets and attending the stalls. The lineup is longest at the icecream stand. Looking past the stand to the Medieval display behind it, the period meal appears untouched on the table while the actors all eat iecream cones. Many guests are filling water bottles from the fountain, and one knight in full armour climbs right in, announcing loudly that he will now be performing official baptismals.
We wander over to the mess hall, and see a full pig cooking on a spit. One fellow eyes my icecream and asks me if I found the Vervienne flavoured icecream cone he had lost earlier. We continue to wander through live-action displays, such as a blacksmith shop, an herbalist, and a leather-worker. I don't envy them standing out in the heat in full costume. At least we can move on when we start to get too hot. We find shelter in the Saint Jean-Baptiste church, where a trio of harpists are setting up. It is nice and cool inside, and we listen while one of the harpists explains the difference between the different types of harps. After about 15 minutes, although more and more people are filtering into the church, there is no indication of when the harp music might actually start, so we head back outside.
While there are several (abandoned) areas set up for playing medieval games, the program indicates there will be live spectacles in the arena on the far end of town. The next one is about to start, so we wind our way through the sales booths offering cheeses, breads, olives, and other savories. We stop to check out a seemingly abandoned booth of antique alcohols styled after drinks in the Middle Ages, when the vendor pops up. "I'm here! I'm here!" he exclaims. "Do you want to try some samples?" We try a honey mead and a spicy mulled wine. The owner tells us they are based out of Le Puy. "Do you know Le Puy?" he asks us. We tell him of our aborted plans to do the Way of Saint James, starting in Le Puy. It was stormy in May, then we were away in June, and now... "It's way too hot!" He finishes for us, "It's actually dangerous to do it now when it's so hot!"
We take our leave and head towards the arena. I'm excited, because the equestrian spectacle was the best part of the Medieval Festival I attended in Guérande (see photo below).
When we arrive at the arena, I double-check the posted schedule: the equestrian combat show should be starting now. We stare blankly at the empty stands. There are maybe a half a dozen people milling around uncertainly. There is also a small enclosure where a woman is sharing information about her two pet wolves, who seem friendly enough. However, there seems to be no spectacle. I go back again and stare at the schedule. I even ask a trio festival volunteers, who seem to have no clue that there should even be any spectacles happening, let alone what time they should be starting. Maybe it's too hot for the horses to perform? I wonder. Colin shrugs "It's France."
We decide to head for the bus. We arrive at the bus stop just as it is pulling out for its trip down the hill. It will be at least another 10 minutes of standing in the hot sun to wait for the next one. We decide to salvage some of our randonnée by walking the 1 km down the hill to the parking lot, bringing our Ternand randonnée up to something like 2km. Part way down, the next bus passes us on its way up the hill, and the driver shoots us an incredulous look. When we beat him down to the bottom, however, he offers us a grudging nod of respect.
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