Where the Mustard Comes From – Dijon

We had passed through Dijon a few times on the train. Our train line from Paris to Lyon passes through this notable and grand city.

Dijon has given its name to mustard. Or at least that is how I knew the name of Dijon long before I knew of the city. Mustards tended to be of the American, English, or Dijon varieties; anything else was exotic or niche.

The city of Dijon is the capital of its region, ensuring the commune has ample grand buildings, a rich – sumptuous even – history, and more than enough to keep us occupied for a weekend’s visit.

There is a trend in France to have large expanses of exposed space. Space lined with gravel, stone, or some unforgiving material. No trees, little shade, and few places to sit. The sun shining back from ground as well as from above.

Dijon suffered its own set of beautiful buildings surrounded by large open stone spaces. Stunning and at the same time unfriendly. We surveyed, got our photos, and wandered on.

The obvious retort is to suggest sitting in the shade in a cafe. This is not our thing. Sitting outside in a French cafe, tends to bring with it nearby smokers. Sitting in a cafe with a coffee and cigarette may be an iconically French scene but that does not make it pleasant for the non-smoker.