Death by cheese.

After 48 hours on French soil I have succeeded in finding my quarters, finding the restroom, and eating my weight in cheese. Don’t worry. I don’t weigh much.

I may have also told my host I have three wives and I recently sold my mother on EBAY, but my French only gets me so far. Unless we’re talking about agriculture, food, and wine I’m lost….

I’ve also learned that despite every effort by Homer J Simpson and the Republican National Committee to paint the French in a bad light they are terrific hosts. Once I get past the fact that I only understand half of what they are saying, and accept that I’m about a minute behind in comprehending everything that’s said it’s a whole lot more fun. Warm, charming, and gracious, despite the gaps, you don’t have to say much to know that you’re welcome.

Today we took a walk around Auxerre. Pronounced (O-sair) by the aboriginals, this ancient town was first built by the Romans on three hills that overlook the river Y’onne. Once the main road between Lyon and Paris, it is perhaps more famous for its twin churches or the tiny vineyard within the town itself. Auxerre is close to Chablis, but considered separate from the famous Chardonnay growing vineyards.

It is very cold here. In fact it is actually warmer in Ohio today than Chablis.

Tomorrow I will bundle up and accompany the rest of the Rotary GSE team for a professional day in the vineyards of Chablis. I hope they let me prune the vines before the wine tasting. Take it from me… it’s much harder to prune after a few glasses of wine.