OK, things are really starting to get interesting in my AMA river boat excursion down the Saone and Rhône rivers. Both of which are reputed to be in France.
Being a believer in research, research and research, I resolved to look up Tournus on Wikipedia in order to be absolutely sure of my, you know, facts and stuff.
Alas. It turned out to be written in French, which I don’t mind saying is all Greek to me. And so, lacking a Rosetta Stone for quick translation I resolved to wing it.
Turns out that ancient Tournus was on the dividing line between the Kingdom Of France and The Holy German Empire.
This was in 1957.
But they never worried about being invaded by either side because Tournus has really, really narrow streets that no army could penetrate.
I mean really, really, really narrow streets.
This is an abbey that the King of France donated to the incels of his time (lest they rebel and form a MFGA movement.
The incels promptly built a really cool organ so they could play In A Gadda Da Vida at happy hour.
Other than at happy hour the abbey was a really gloomy place. They even had a wall depicting people in hell lest the incels be tempted to try on-line dating.
Editorial comment: You do NOT want to go to hell. Trust me.
Oddly, for all the abbey’s gloom and doom, there is a shop directly across the street celebrating the hedonistic lifestyle.
Although, to be fair, they do have an infomercial depicting some guy drinking and dancing his way into hell.
Left: The pink door is marked to indicate the years the Saone flooded its banks. The top marker is 1840, which was apparently a stinker of a year.
Right: A wooden door.
They sell a lot of chicken in the village market.
I mean a lot of chicken.
A couple a hours in Macon
By the time we rolled into Macon it was dark. But they left the lights on for us.
Despite the lateness of the hour, I managed to do a crash course on all things Maconian. So pay attention as I outline the essential facts.
1. Even though this quaint village is named after the more famous and celebrated city in Georgia, the French, being French, pronounce it completely differently.
2. The barbecue here leaves a lot to be desired.
3. Nobody comes here on an Allman Brothers pilgrimage.
I thought they would have barbecue in this restaurant. But I ended up casting caution to the winds and ordering from a menu in a completely foreign language that was, if you don’t mind my saying, Greek to me.
I was saved when I recognized the words “osso bucco” from an old episode of The Sopranos.
It came very close to tasting like barbecue. So I’ll give them that.
I don’t remember if I took this photo from inside the restaurant looking out or outside the restaurant looking in.
Walking back to the boat I was either hallucinating or they have some really cool street graphics in Macon.
Arriving back on board I discovered they have a lot of champaign glasses behind glass in the lounge.
You’re welcome.
FreeGNV 