Vendettas, nuraghi and the marches: Vines, mustard and power

We have been dawdling in the Cote d'Or, the hills of gold in the Burgundian region, quite possibly named for trees that tumble gold in the autumn, or for the liquid grapes that bring real gold here hundreds of years after they were first introduced. Specialist workers from France and Belgium are all over the grape fields at the moment, pruning and trellising to encourage quality growth.

The towns and villages are prosperous, ancient, gorgeous and most are beautifully maintained. We have been to Burgundy several times before, but not to these parts. We love it all. As we walk the streets and read the print in gold we know as soon as we see offerings like 'spumante' or 'foam' on the menus that there is a Michelin star in pride of place in at least one corner of the restaurant's window glass, and it so happens that this region has more Michelin-starred restaurants than any other in France, outside of Paris. Not at all surprising.

Dijon, long of mustard fame, is the capital of Burgundy and sits astride some of the most famous vineyards in the world. We have been drinking Burgundy AOC wines that we buy from the vintners each evening. The Dijon mustard, though, which can be bought in delightful little artisan-like faience jars as mementos, is now mainly produced industrially; most of the mustard seeds packaged now comes from Canada. Luckily, it still tastes wonderful.

As does the Boeuf Bourguignon -- rich, chunky and tender, seeping in thick red wine jus. We had it last night and sopped up the juices with crusty French bread. Oohlalaah! Dijon is famous for the toits bourguignons on its major buildings -- polychrome roof tiles laid out in brilliant bright black, yellow, green and terracotta geometric patterns. We have been sighting these everywhere and they offer Peter great photo ops, despite the showers which keep interrupting him this year. Have camera, will photograph, is his motto.

We visit Beaune, famous for its annual auction of wines produced from lands donated by wealthy benefactors in support of the Hospices de Beaune in the Hotel-Dieu Museum, its polychrome tiled roof glistens like a jewel in the drizzling rain.

We follow vines and the cattle up a winding route higher and discover Cluny. Wow! Here in the Middle Ages, a powerful congregation of Benedictine monks held political and spiritual sway equal only to the Popes. Their abbey in this tiny village was for five centuries the largest in all of Christendom and as powerful as any. Today, the buildings that remain --including cloisters, judiciary, granaries and administrative buildings are vast, but what existed before the revolutionaries decimated it must have been awe-inspiring. Charmingly counterpointed, today, by lovely little crafts, like lacemaking, which fill the old shoppes. The beautiful handmade Cluny lacy bears many of the symbols of the Abbacy in its stitches: rose windows and mediaeval motifs. At €35 per metre it is, for over 10 hours of work, very reasonably priced. Amazing this power war between the catholic abbots and the popes, too. You don't learn about that when you go to a conventional Catholic convent school.

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