Our apartment, only a stroll from the Vieux Port, is on the sixth floor. The decor is modern with smart furnishings and looks out over the city roofline. Each morning we watch as a large seagull regurgitates fish for her obese chick nesting just outside the window.

Marseille chick waiting for fishy petit dejeuner

(The apartment is in fact the best accommodation we had on the trip. See details here.)

Nearby is the main commercial thoroughfare, Rue Canebiere, popularly known by English speakers as ‘Can o’ Beer’. The name is derived from long-disappeared hemp farms that provided cordage for sailing ships in the olden days.

The Vieux Port area is a sunny and pleasant maritime environment with thousands of pleasure craft moored; the waterside surrounded by lively fish markets and souvenir stalls. Nearby streets and plazas are packed with bars and restaurants.

Vieux Port

Walk a few blocks away from the quay however, and you might fantasize that you are in another country: Morocco? Algeria? Shops in the alleyways sell myriad African and Middle Eastern goods. Exotic fabrics and clothes hang from awnings and you walk past open “oriental” patisseries and savour the fragrance of restaurant kitchens that are definitely not Cuisine Francaise.

Hang on to your valuables

People in both Australia and in France warned us to “take care” in Marseille; it made us a little apprehensive at first.

The city certainly has a seamy side. Beggars and drunks are inevitably part of the street scene, even more so in the laneways. Cosmetically enhanced women hang out here and there, waiting no doubt to act as eager guides for the inquisitive tourist. In the background, day and night, is a cacophony of wailing sirens.

After day two, having witnessed a couple of bag snatches, we tuck passports and money under our shirts and the digital camera in my pocket and leave everything else in the apartment. This simple move inspires confidence and so we wander pretty much wherever we like. Always, as it were, with eyes open,

Recommended sightseeing

Les Calanques – Calanques is the local term for the deep bays or coves that dot the arid rocky coast south of Marseille. From Vieux Port, we take a two and a half hour boat trip to explore a few of these. Among the sights are old pillboxes, apparently dating from World War Two, tiny fishing villages, and maniacal rock climbers scaling the overhanging cliffs.

Les Calanques - en route

Wine

A cheapy from the local supermarket was a Les Figuiers AOC Bandol (low-yielding vines) 2005 – a bargain at €6. Blended from fifty percent mourvedre, with the balance grenache. A lighter bodied red with, given its age, forward tannins and acid. Plentiful cherries and blackberries showed in the mouth. Definitely a main course red. Not the quality of wine you will ever find at this price in Australia.

Leaving

Twenty-one days in France, including four short days in sunny Marseille and suddenly it’s time to head back to Noosa.

Highlights of the trip? Monuments, museums, galleries, landscapes, obviously. But standouts were the simple things: the people, the wine, the bread, the cheese.

Disclosure: All fares, meals and accommodation paid for by the writer.

Waiting for a bus

First stop in Aix is for a refreshing drink at a sidewalk bar. Among the thronging crowds in the Cours Mirabeau, we sip a milky, pungent pastis.

Cocktails with Cézanne

That evening, as we take a stroll past the Musee Granet, a departing guest hands us his invitation to cocktails for the opening of the Cézanne exhibition two days later (Collection Planque).

As if we own the place, we walk in among the dignitaries and culturati, me in my cocktail outfit of Dunlop Volleys and frayed Nepalese cut off shorts. Luckily, we have missed the speeches and immediately join the guests tucking in to huge plates of food and generous glasses of red.

Lucy asks what we should say if one of the many security people ask who we are. “I’ll tell them, ‘I’m the cultural attaché from the Orstrylian Ministry of the Yartz!’” I reply.

Encounter in Aix

A maybe see

Paul Cézanne’s Studio is a good walk out of town and visitors can wander around the room where he created his masterpieces.

Preserved pretty much as he left it when he died in 1906, the studio is a big tall space with north-facing ceiling to floor windows. Bits of Cézanne bric-a-brac adorn the walls and some of the items are recognisable from his paintings – of which there are none present.

Worth seeing, but not worth going to see, to paraphrase Sam Johnson.

Cezanne's well

Recommended dining

Restaurant La Medina de Fes, 5 rue Campra, Aix en Provence. This pleasant, cheap and unpretentious Moroccan restaurant is just off the main drag. They serve us delicious couscous and tagine and a stand out marinated artichoke/orange salad. A small bottle of Gris de Gris accompanies the meal – fruity but very dry, from Meknes in Morocco.

Domaine Vouniere in the market

Dinner in the apartment

Provencal omelette de Martin. Oeufs, bright yellowy girolles, young purple garlic, EVOO, avec mesclun et vinaigrette. The wine, bought at the local market, is substantial in body, fruity, and slightly petillant. Domaine Vouniere, NV organic merlot, Vin de Pays du Var, €4.50.

The train from Dijon to Avignon takes us through vineyard country. Signs for M.Chapoutieradorn the hillsides. As you enjoy the scenic vignettes, you pass an ominous brooding nuclear reactor, no doubt waiting for the Rhone to flood and irradiate the already powerful reds.

Rhone reactor

A first impression of Avignon is that it is noticeably more touristy than Dijon and more English language friendly. For example, unlike Dijon, many of the restaurant menus here feature English translations.

Half a bridge too far

A must-see here is the Pont d’Avignon, originating from the 12^thcentury and the basis of the famous song. It’s actually less than half a bridge as only four of the original 22 arches remain, so it stops disappointingly half way across the river. They have had many centuries to fix this but so far no action.

Incomplete bridge

And I have it on good authority that the song we learned in execrable French at school is wrong – they didn’t dance “sur la pont”, they actually danced under it, that is, “sous le pont”, in a long gone café. Should I be called upon to sing this song in future it is the correct “sous” version I shall offer.

We have a good look round at the Palais des Papes in the heart of the city. A bunch of popes who battled with Rome for control of the Catholic empire lived here and ruled in the 14^th century.

The palace kitchen area has a brilliant papal pizza oven, though I doubt the popes ever saw it.

Papal pizza oven

However, the endless chapels and well-preserved examples of papal power and domesticity wear us out so we are happy to find near the exit a tasting room, where for a few dollars we refresh ourselves with some of the local reds.

Near the Papal Palace, we enjoy a casual lunch at Creperie du Cloitre. Scrumptious folded rectangles of crepes ooze with cheese, cream, spinach and a fried egg. They go down well with a bottle of Val de Rance Cidre Bouché. A silky smooth unpasteurised dry cider from Breton.

Modern Masters

Hidden a few blocks away from the Papal Palace is the Musee Agladon – where we stroll around a small collection of gems by Picasso, Modigliani, Cezanne and Bonnard, not to mention classic pieces of 7^th century Chinese terra cotta.

Security seems lax and in contrast to most other museums, we are able to get up quite close and photographical to the priceless masterpieces.

Later, with supper, we try a shiraz from the local supermarket. It is the Domaine des Remizieres, Cuvee Christophe 2009, appellation Crozes Hermitage, (14% alcohol, about $18). The shiraz-based red is a deep purple in colour, rich, soft and satisfying in the mouth.

Aqueduct with Quacking frogs

Towards the end of our Avignon stay, we hire a tour guide and visit the Pont du Gard, a Roman aqueduct some 2000 years old.

Pont du Gard

As we rest on the bank of the tranquil river below the aqueduct, we hear loud quacking and look around for ducks. The racket is in fact coming from large frogs, and I reflect that the Roman Legionaries who built the place probably sat on the same spot 20 centuries ago, listening to the same spooky sound. And possibly caught a few for dinner.

Chateauneuf du Pape

The same morning we head off to Chateauneuf du Pape, a pretty hill top village set among hectares of Côtes du Rhône vineyards. On top of the main hill and sorely in need of a lick of paint are the derelict ruins of the “Pope’s new house”. Down the hill in the village, we visit a retailer for a little tasting.

Chateauneuf du Pape

Of the wines we taste, I quite like those from Chateau de la Gardine. First up is the 2005 vintage old vines white – AOC Chateauneuf du Pape – consisting mainly of roussanne. This presents fresh and perfumey, with a faint edge of liquorice allsorts on the palate.

Their 2006 red from the same appellation, made predominantly of grenache, is a warmly alcoholic style. Deep purple to black in colour, smooth in the mouth with sweetish fruit and a long finish.

Chateau de la Gardine 2006

A bus to Aix en Provence

But alas, after Chateauneuf de Pape, it’s farewell to fair Avignon, and time to take a bus to our next stop, Aix en Provence. More about Aix and Marseille in Part III.

On another Dijon evening we dine at Restaurant Le Verdi, Place Emile Zola. We share a Salade Chevre Chaud – squares of grilled chevre topped with pine nuts, set on crusty bread over a dressed green salad. Also, a perfectly al dente tortellini filled with ricotta and fresh asparagus sitting on a bed of creamy sauce dotted with petit pois. All washed down with a 500 ml pichet of Pays du Gard Rouge.

Food Observations Nowadays in France you can’t help but notice a significant amount of “biologique” (organic) food and wine in the shops. Organic wine apparently accounts for 10% of the French market, with consumption growing rapidly.

On previous trips to France the cuisine was straight down the line Francaise. In recent years there has been an explosion of pizzerias, kebab shops, ethnic restaurants – Chinese, Indian, Vietnamese, Moroccan, Japanese, Lebanese. And with it the inevitable run of McDonalds etc.

French chefs, who cook vegetables beautifully, still see vegetarian diners as abominations and the few menus that include a vegetarian selection assume that vegetarians eat fish.

Wherever we travel morbid obesity is never evident.

PS – Dijon Awarded Two Michelin Retreads. If the footpaths of Paris rate three Michelin Retreads for dog crappy footpaths, Dijon’s walkways, which are much cleaner, rate only two. However, there is a still a lot of shoe scraping for the short-sighted and for those looking at the stars rather than the gutter.

Early June, it’s springtime in France and we’re on the fast train to Dijon, capital of Burgundy. After Dijon, we’ll head towards Avignon, Aix en Provence and Marseille.

Asparagus - Les Halles

No rental cars or rural retreats this trip. It’s all train and bus from Paris to Marseille, staying at pre-booked, self-catering apartments in the heart of each town.

Les Halles shopping

On our first look around Dijon we take in the large covered Les Halles Market, built by Gustav Eiffel – he of Tower fame.

Les Halles features a profusion of fresh produce. Multitudinous piles of drool-worthy AOC cheese. Thumb-thick white asparagus stalks tinged with purple. Plump and glistening new season cherries. Provence–grown tomatoes bigger than your fist. Large purple heads of garlic. Piles of chanterelles, field mushrooms and morels. Bouquets of tiny red and white radishes nestling in beds of straw. Mounds of  perfumed, pumpkin-shaped peaches.

Peachy

From one of the stalls we buy a loaf of dark, artisan-made bread. Al dente crustique I call it. So al dente that Lucy breaks a tooth on the crust. Many euros later at the dentist…

The produce and wines seem quite cheap by Australian standards; it can’t all be down to the strong dollar.

Dijon Mustard

Not least of all, Dijon is famous for its mustard, and mustard is sold everywhere you look. Unlike Australia, where most retailers stock wholegrain Dijon mustard that is mild, the mustards in Dijon are smooth and hot, not dissimilar to hot English mustard.

After sampling quite a few, we buy a Reine de Dijon mustard blended with candied lemon zest and black currant pepper. Smooth and spicy at first, it gradually sneaks up on you with a wasabi-like, nose tickling, eye-watering kick.

Sightseeing

We travel round the city of Dijon on the Navette – a free shuttle bus that circles the main drags.

One pleasant morning we spend visiting the Dijon Musee de Vie Bourgignone. Here, we wander round three floors of exhibits based on Burgundian culture, wine and food. Their re-created arcade of 19^th century shops is fascinating.

Walking back to the apartment we chance upon an unexpected musical interlude in the Jardin de Berbisey, where an accomplished player of the French lute rehearses stately 17^th century French court music.

Lute player

Drinks

Dijon is the home of kir, the classic cassis and white wine mix named after a former Dijon mayor. Late afternoons, feeling dry after various museum visits, we typically drink a glass or two of this traditional brew by the fountains in the sunny Place de la Liberation.

For supper one night we share a bottle of Champagne Bruther Brut NV. Fresh and delicious, it’s great value at around $18.

Dessert is a block of Naturgie Chocolat Noir Organic 99%. Once past the event horizon of this cosmic chocolate black hole, you are sucked right in; there is no escape.

Beaune

Next on the agenda is a day in Beaune, the wine capital of Burgundy, a twenty minute train ride from Dijon.

There we check out the Musee du Vin, which contains an excellent display of artefacts relating to the history of wine in the region. Then we stroll through the now patient-free wards of the Hotel Dieu, aka the renowned Hospices de Beaune, site of the famous annual wine auction.

Hospice de Beaune

We have lunch nearby and drink a bottle of Andre Delorme Brut NV, Cremant de Bourgogne. Sparkling “Burgundy” styles in Australia are mostly red with a slight sweetness; this Blanc de Noirs example is white, dry, and refreshing.

Hotel Dieu

One evening, many decades ago, the good Greek ship Ellinis was under full sail (poetic ain’t I?), somewhere in the North Atlantic. Most of the souls aboard were young Australians, en route to England to gain a bit of kulcher.

The sea was angry that night my friends – as George Costanza might have said. Storms were creating massive waves, and as the ship had no stabilisers we were rocking and rolling as we sat down to late dinner in the dining saloon.

As guests moodily chewed on yet another plate of moussaka and sipped the odd retsina, a mighty wave struck the port side of the ship. Waiters stumbled, food and crockery crashed to the floor, and one old dear’s seat fell over. She slid on her back towards our table and lay there, apparently unconscious.

Concerned passengers gathered round and the head waiter asked if there were any doctors present. An elderly chap in a suit wandered over, he knelt down and closely examined the patient. Her distraught daughter asked, “Is she still alive?”

The doc replied, “Well, she’s still chewing her moussaka.”

Last Wednesday we were hosted by the Illuminati wine family. We stayed an extra couple of nights in the wintery Le Marche region, just to attend the work organised appointment. We met up with Stefano Illuminati around midday for a tour of their facilities, a tasting and what was described as a lunch that was to be “nothing special” in the organising pre-emails.

The winery and vines are actually in the Abruzzo region which borders Le Marche to the south. Stefano shepherded us into his Porsche for a tour of their expansive vineyards, pointing out the different vineyards (Montepulciano being the star, the white Pecorino an up and comer), trellising techniques (they use both espalier and canopy styles) and described with ardour how the business has grown since his great grandfather established it over one hundred years earlier.

Discussing his forefathers brought Stefano to a more surprising topic of discussion. His and his peers worry for their children. He told us that unemployment in Italy is an escalating problem and quite movingly expressed his concern for the future Italy and how it will be for his two boys. He told us how lucky we were to be born in Australia, we shrugged our shoulders and half heartedly agreed.

His family have been doing business in Australia since 1987, he told us. “My father loves your country.” On Dino Illuminati’s first visit back in the 80s, he was determined to find a long lost friend. He arrived in Adelaide (he knew that much) with only a surname and the name of the Italian town where they had grown up.  He found the man, much older, bed ridden and suffering from Parkinson’s.

Finding his long absent friend, who had not quite found the better life in Australia, had emblazoned Dino with a curious infatuation; “Viva Australia!!!” he said to us later when we met him. Indeed.

Our “nothing special” lunch with Stefano was an absolute joy. He took us to La Sosta, a local trattoria run by friends of the Illuminati’s. As we were seated, he disappeared, only to come back moments later, having ordered our lunch with nonna in the kitchen. The menu they had created for us featured fresh local produce.

For antipasti we had fried Mozzarella (OMG), Ascolano Olives, a cow and sheep’s milk pecorino (cheese this time), locally made Prosciutto crudo and bruschetta (toast) with peppery green extra virgin olive oil drizzled over the top. The olives were particularly interesting; large and green, they were filled with a mix of cooked meat and herbs, then crumbed and fried. Very moreish, they went superbly with Illuminati’s sparkling white brut, a mix of Trebbiano and Verdicchio.

For Primi Piatti (“first plate” in Italian, most usually a pasta dish) we had two pastas, both served from the cooking pot on a trolley beside the table (lovely touch). The first was tagliatelle with FRESH porcini; the flavour was almost too intense for my taste, “almost” because the chef had very cleverly added just enough finely chopped parsley to contrast the pungent mushroom tang. The second pasta was equally delicious and simple; spaghetti with a light tomato and sausage meat sauce.

By this time we were in serious trouble, make no mistake when you hear someone say that the Italians are a generous people. Each of the dishes so far would have been enough to be considered a full meal by our normal “at home” standard.

The Secondi Piatti was a mixed grill, veal, lamb chops, sausage, pork ribs and pork belly, well seasoned and cooked to perfection. They were served with a simple cabbage and broad bean side dish, almost like a mash and delicately flavoured with garlic.

Well into our food coma, dessert is but a blurry memory to me now. I think it was trifle-esque, with a gaudy rose pink layer. It was the specialty of the house, so it must have been good.

Our meal was accompanied by the bottles left over from our earlier tasting. My favourite was the Pieluni, 100% Montepulciano; Colour – vibrant, dark, light-catching crimson, Nose – sweet black pepper, cherry and a hint of treacle, Palate – rich and velvety, elegant oak.

See other travels at Curiouser and Curiouser.

Ian Hongell - Winemaker at Peter Lehmann Wines

Peter Lehmann Wines

Since its inception in 1979, Peter Lehmann Wines has been a Barossa Valley mainstay. The wines, especially the shiraz and riesling have been – in my little black book – synonymous with the Barossa style. So much so that when overseas guests have asked me to recommend typical Barossa wines, Peter Lehmann always come to mind.

The winery and cellar door are set in leafy, park-like gardens and guests can wander around, taste a good selection of wines and if peckish, enjoy lunch on a sunny verandah – as we did.

Winemaker Ian Hongell showed us a selection of releases. Standouts included the perfumed, limey 2008 Barossa Riesling; a lemon zesty 2008 Barossa Semillon and the 2005 Wigan Eden Valley Riesling – this showed a classic developed nose of aromatic lemon skin oil and lovely Granny Smith apple acidity.

Then there was a 2008 Barossa Shiraz, showing deep, almost black shades, a spicy sweet oak nose and a hint of chocolate above its chewy tannin infrastructure. I also enjoyed the 2005 Stonewell Shiraz – a rich nose with a slightly savoury edge of tapenade and a robust palate of persistent blackberry notes.

Stepping into the venerable cellars at the Henschke winery in Keyneton is a real trip into the past. The marks of generations of Henschkes having been hewn into the stony structures since the mid-nineteenth century.

In the winery are rows of open concrete fermenters still in use after numerous vintages, and the visitor may picture how winemakers in earlier days used gravity rather than motorised pumps to process young wines.

Henschke Winery - old concrete vats

A few tasting notes: 2008 Louis Semillon, very pale, penetrating, clean herbal nose; nicely balanced and just off-dry in the mouth with pleasant acidity. 2009 Green’s Hill Riesling, pale, with a steely citrus bouquet and a full-on palate with notes of lime and lemon marmalade.

2008 Giles Pinot Noir, perfumey lifted flowers and strawberries on the nose, an elegant dry style in the mouth showing cherries and strawberries – a beautiful entrée accompaniment. 2006 Mount Edelstone Shiraz, Lovely rich nose of summer berries and fine black pepper; blackberries and an edge of savouriness in the mouth with undertones of mint and chocolate; fine silky tannins.

We also liked Prue’s Verjus – made from the blended juice of not quite ripe riesling, chardonnay and muscat grapes. The taste is like tart apple juice or very delicate vinegar, and it serves as a tasty alternative to sharp vinegars in salad dressings.

Stephen and Prue Henschke have a well-deserved reputation for fastidiousness in their approach to viticulture and winemaking and that attention to detail has taken their wines to the forefront of wine collectability in the marketplace.

Seppelt Family Mausoleum

Seppeltsfield

The drive to Seppeltsfield is memorable – avenues of numerous stately date palms and on a hill the brooding Seppelt family mausoleum. As you arrive you are confronted by a complex of aged stone buildings that seem to have “just growed” since the winery’s beginnings in the mid-1800s.

In the old cellars the visitor is shown rows of casks still containing tawny port styles from 130 vintages. In the tasting room, ancient and modern fortifieds, brandies and table wines are there for an indulgent sip or two.

I particularly enjoyed a headily aromatic Paramount XO Brandy – from a blend dating back to the 1960s; a 21 year-old Para Tawny – very pale, dry rich and spirity; and a Paramount XO Tawny, matured on lees from 100 year-old Para tawny – it had a lovely aged rancio character and a texture that was thick and velvety.

Seppeltsfield Centenary Cellars