Most holidaymakers whizz through Burgundy on the A6 – the famous Autoroute du Soleil – on their way to sunnier and more glamorous destinations in the south of France. That’s excellent news for those of us who have come to love the region’s cooler, and less crowded, charms. We cheerily wave them on their way.
Whether it’s for climbing the Roche de Solutré to survey the voluptuous Mâconnais vineyards below, or attending a Bach concert in the majestic Romanesque basilica at Vézelay, or truffling around the markets and museums of Dijon, Burgundy will entice anyone who loves the French countryside, culture and cuisine.
Even at the busiest times of the year, the region seems to enjoy undertourism but still welcomes visitors, albeit on its own terms and in its somewhat fastidious and understated way. For curmudgeons like me, who have lost any desire to jostle in airport queues and broil on a beach, Burgundy has become a welcome sanctuary, little more than a 60-minute train ride south-east from Paris on a high-speed TGV. When we were living in Paris in the mid-2000s, my wife Carol and I bought a house in a tiny village in the Côte-d’Or and we have been regular visitors to Burgundy ever since.
