A Week in the Jura

A  Week  in  the  Jura   We left La Borde for a week because a group of Belgian psychologists had rented the entire facility for a retreat, and returned to Villette-les-Arbois, 2 km from Arbois, to stay again at Marie-Helene and Gerard Treuvey’s gite. Here is a view of Villette from our gite’s garden:

As before, Gerard was delighted to be our personal guide to the most interesting spots in the Jura. (In fact, we had to work fairly hard to carve out some time to hike.) And as before, we learned an enormous amount and improved our French, as the Treuveys speak no English. Over an aperitif we caught up on the news. The grape harvest looks extremely promising. The winter was very cold but spring came a month ahead of schedule, and they expect to begin the vendage at the end of August rather than late September, or even October. With longer days the grapes produce more sugar, leading to a better quality vintage. M/H’s mother is about to have a 2nd hip replacement; their younger son is getting a divorce; the potager is off to a slow start because there was no rain at all for 2 months (Mar/Apr) and only a little in May, and they were forbidden to water. No lettuce or peas. We explored more of Arbois in the afternoon. It’s a charming small city on the edge of the mountains, the center of the Jura wine industry and therefore relatively wealthy. It’s built along the banks of the Cuissance River, and there are many little bridges to cross as you go through town. There are also fish in the river, probably trout, which suggests that it’s relatively clean. (Though G commented later that there used to be many kingfishers, and now there are few fish so few kingfishers.) We visited the Louis Pasteur home in Arbois:

One of its interesting features is that the dining room is one floor above the kitchen. Meals were delivered on a dumbwaiter, but the servants (and the family) had to go outdoors to climb an exterior staircase to get from the kitchen to the dining room. The bedrooms on the top floor were also accessible by an exterior staircase. Gerard pointed out a house in Villete Les Arbois with a similar arrangement, so apparently it wasn’t all that unusual. Challenging in a New England type climate, however! Wednesday it rained (sorely needed) so we went to Besancon for the better part of the day. We parked outside the Old Town and walked through it,

up the old Roman road, to the summit and La Citadelle. It was quite a climb – probably about 450 feet in total altitude gain. On the way we passed a park with remnants of a Roman temple and amphitheater:

La Citadelle in its current incarnation was the brainchild of Marechal Vauban (for whom our Burgundy gite is named.) It’s an astonishing, enormous construction – must have provided jobs to everyone in the area for years and drawn other workers as well. It replaced a whole series of earlier fortifications, including Roman. It no longer serves any military purpose but houses several museums (natural history, regional history, the Resistance) and a small zoo. Rather sad to see a few kangaroos, a capybara and a lion, among others, confined to this mountaintop in the Jura. There were also some rheas, with young, so we gave them greetings from their cousins in Burgundy.

We had a lovely lunch at Barthod, recommended, quite rightly, in the Michelin guide. (Non-foodies may skip this paragraph.) They’ve got a good thing going, from just about any point of view: pairing wines with various assietes, - lots of food at once, on a large plate, rather than multiple courses. And a glass or two of wine is included in the price. Twenty to 26 EU got a very good, very ample lunch. I had the chef’s suggestion, which was foie gras and more foie gras. A base of little spring lettuces, a cherry tomato, a grape or two, a sautéed fig and a couple of sautéed strawberries, and a couple of very thin slices of watermelon; a shot glass of gazpacho, with its own little straw; and then foie gras in various guises. There was a lovely slice of foie gras pate, a slice of sautéed foie gras, 3 adorable and delicious little foie gras filled ravioli in broth in their own little casserole, and – the killer – crème brulee with foie gras. I had read a recipe for this but had thought I wouldn’t like it. It was divine. Probably the richest thing I’ve ever eaten, all 2 tablespoons of it! My wines included a slightly sweet Arbois white and a Bordeaux, very different but terrific with the foie gras. Paul’s assiete included lettuces and a few little fruits, lots of locally cured ham, and a timbale of morilles. Both of us also got fried potatoes, not frites but slices, and I strongly suspect the frying liquid was duck fat. His wine was a Poussard, a Jura red. Grilled pain complet came with the meal but I don’t think either of us ate more than a mouthful. However, Paul did manage crème brulee with Macvin, and coffee. And when we got back to the gite we were invited to Gerard’s surprise 73rd birthday party. One of MarieHelene’s 4 sisters had made a fabulous cake: 2 layers of macaroon filled with pastry crème and raspberries, topped with more berries. With this we had Cremant de Jura made by Remi Treuvay (son of Gerard and Marie-Helene), followed by a very sweet dessert bubbly, macaroons, and biscuits de Reims, another sort of macaroon. Present were the 5 sisters, their mother, a nephew, and M/H and G, and “our American friends”.

Not interested in much dinner! Thursday we started off bright and late (9 am) with Gerard but unfortunately without Paul’s camera. We visited the Source of the Lison River, a magnificent waterfall pouring out of a limestone cavern, and then on to La Musee de Taillanderie, where they used to make cutting edge farm utensils including scythes and sickles, hoes, rakes, hatchets and other specialized gear, with a world-wide market. The forge was powered by water. All perfectly fascinating. What was astonishing was the video we saw at the beginning. It included interviews with people who themselves or whose parents, had worked in the taillenderie, and also some specialists from similar facilities in other parts of France. One of them, from Haut Savoie, had a very strong resemblance to my brother John. We’ll never know, but I suspect we have cousins somewhere in that region. I tried to buy a copy of the video but no luck. Then on to Le Pont du Diable, a bridge over a very deep gorge, the charcuterie shop where we got such good things last year, and back home for lunch. We had a few hours in the afternoon to walk around Arbois, but at 5 pm, off on another round of sightseeing, this time to several small churches - Gerard knows them all – an organic grain mill, the local Comte and Morbier Coop, where we saw the affinage (ripening) rooms - strong smell of ammonia - and bought cheese. We finished up at the artisan brewery, where we tried several styles of beer (la Franche) and (of course) bought a few bottles. Friday was a hiking day, and we drove south about 40k to do an 11k walk around the 4 lakes. Not the best footing, but interesting varieties of scenery and great exercise:

Dinner was cheese fondue at the Treuveys; Gerard makes the fondue. His recipe: Wipe the fondue pan with a piece of cut garlic. Put in the pan 1 glass of white wine and 100-150 gr of grated cheese (in this case, local white wine and Comte) for each person. Salt and pepper to taste. Heat the wine, stirring in a figure 8 motion (otherwise the cheese clumps.) When it’s all melted, and everything is blended, add a good dollop of cognac, Armagnac or marc, mix that in, and keep the fondue warm over a low flame while everyone dips in.

We would have been delighted with just the fondue, but also had melon in port, charcuterie, salad and a lovely custard pie. Before we left for this trip I read yet another book written by an American about her experiences in France. Like many other writers, she insists that the French are standoffish, have very closed groups that are almost impossible to break into, and generally limit their interactions with Americans and other foreigners. They never invite us to their houses, for example. Well, you can’t prove that by us. We socialize in Burgundy, and now we’re socializing in the Jura. Of course, this isn’t Paris, it’s the provinces, and some of the people we interact with rent gites, which means they have to have some comfort level dealing with strangers. But they don’t have to introduce us to all their family members or invite us for dinner! Friday was all about mountains. Paul and Gerard and I left around 9 am and headed southwest and up into the Haut Jura. Once we left Arbois we actually ascended onto 3 different levels of plateaus, known as the first, second, and third plateaus, ending up around 3500 feet. My mental altimeter didn’t function well at all, as the climbs are deceptive. You go curving up a fairly steep grade, looking up at and then reaching the top of spectacular limestone cliffs. The land suddenly becomes flat, or slightly rolling, and there’s no sense of the steep drop you’ve just ascended. And there are no further peaks visible. The terrain rolls along gently for a while and then you begin climbing again, winding around yet another series of fairly hair-raising bends (thank goodness for guard rails, and this isn’t a landscape where you encounter sheep on the road – just bicyclists) to come out on the second level plateau. We stopped to look at the 3rd largest dam in France:

And the lakes behind it:

This dam provides hydro power for all the Jura and also serves as flood control for the Rhone, ensuring that a nuclear plant near the Rhone won’t have a tsunami-style meltdown. We wound round and climbed some more, finally reaching a little town, St Lupicin, above St. Claude, where we had lunch with Gerard’s daughter Fanny. She’s head of a school serving about 80 2-10 year-olds. We looked at the church, Romanesque and apparently unique in the Jura:

After lunch we came down to St Claude and toured the cathedral:

And the Musee des Diamants et Pipes:

Pipes and clocks and gems were all indoor craft work that could be done by farmers and families during the six months of the year they were snowed in. We then climbed some more. If you look very carefully at the center of the photo, you can see a tunnel we came through:

We saw many indications that this part of the world gets a lot of snow, including poles beside the road, chalet-style roofs, 2nd-story woodpiles, and chairlifts (big skiing area.) After a brief stop right next to the Swiss border (we declined the possibility of Swiss chocolate) we began the descent on the N5, the road from Paris to Geneva, which took close to 2 hours. Paul did a masterful job of driving. Sunday we hiked again, to the Pont du Diable, with camera this time. Total hike about 11.5 k, better footing than the 4 lakes although I wouldn’t have liked to do it after a couple of rainy days. One muddy scramble up, 1 sharp gravel-covered descent; the guide book predicted 3 hours but we made it, including stops, in 2.5. Very pretty countryside:

Lots of flowers, including but not limited to daisies, buttercups, pink mallow, cranesbill, soapwort (pink and white), yellow gentians (used to make a cordial; their height this year apparently indicates how much snow will fall next winter, sort of like woolly bears):

A lovely little turk’s cap type lily, blossom about 1” in diameter:

And several varieties of orchid, including this rare one:

Finally, something I identified thanks to an informative plaque as broad-leafed blue campanula:

And the Pont du Diable is scarily spectacular:

Then, we headed by car down another cliff-hugging road to the Source of the Lison,

for a picnic with many, many other French families (carefully avoided in the picture). Coming back we decided to avoid Salin-les-Bains and the huge footrace that held us up a bit in the morning, so we took a bit of a detour. Every trip has its Buttertubs moments and this was it. Narrow winding road up for 2k to St. Thiebault (spectacular views but who can look when you’re facing a sheer drop of several hundred feet with no guard rails.) Paul calculated that it was a 5% grade. The road down was even narrower, but the drop, for the most part, wasn’t especially sheer. However, about 1 k was a 10% grade. G later chided us for not going up a bit further to one of the best views in the Jura! Monday Paul and Gerard went to explore the Grottes de Moidon (I stayed at the gite to do laundry):

After lunch we all (G, M/H, their 2nd son Jean-Luis, Paul and I) went to visit the church of St Christophe at Chissy, one of the earliest examples of Gothic in the Jura:

We then proceeded to the Cistercian Abbaye D’Acey, where G’s younger brother is a monk. We were given a thorough tour of the church by his brother, the Brother.

Very pleasant guy, and I’d love to talk theology and recruiting with him but my French isn’t up to it. G suggested we might want to come back next year and spend a week in retreat there: no talking, total vegetarian diet, lots of prayer. I think he was joking. I managed to ask some reasonable questions about the architecture; it helps to know some French history and to have visited Cluny and Fontenay. It’s quite a spread. Then on to Dole for a quick visit to the Vieille Ville, including crossing the Canal du Rhine/Rhone, a high point for us. (We love canals.)

The church with some of the city rooflines:

The tower is quite large. A city watchman used to live up there with his family and two goats, keeping watch across the countryside, mostly for French invaders. Dole had a long, uneasy relationship with France. Lots to see in the Jura, though summer is clearly the best time…