Fontenay

We've really come to like the church bells here. I'm sure someone back home would complain about each and every hour being announced, twice, 30 seconds or so apart, with the half hours receiving a single bong. But as you lie in bed, listening while half-dozing, counting along to decide if it's time to get up or turn over, there's something quite comforting. This morning I turned over. I'm after one last cycle of the trip, but my knee has been playing up, so a postponement to tomorrow was woozily and silently agreed with myself.

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First target today was the nearby Fontenay Abbey. We'd been there 6 years ago, but hadn't quite seen it all (most significantly the gorgeous cloister) due to some filming that involved men in tights, and fake doors having people thrown through.

Fair to say it was just as beautiful today, the sun pouring down on the perfectly manicured lawns, and all the better for being able to glimpse it all.

As we left there seemed to be a higher concentration of British cars than we've seen elsewhere, so the timing was perfect for a sharp exit to head even further back in time.

According to the writings of Julius Caesar there was a decisive battle against the Gauls, lead by Vercingetorix, at Alésia. The problem is no-one actually knows exactly where that is. Areas from north to south have claimed ownership, but after excavations following the will of Napoleon III, who was something of a history buff, this area, in the hills above and the plains below Alise-Ste-Reine, has been widely regarded as the correct location. Well, no-one was going to argue with the emperor were they? Maybe they need Time Team on the case.

Granted the topography fits with Caesar's descriptions, and possible Roman camps have been found in various archaeological digs, but even with doubts still persisting those are never going to be addressed with the building of a fancy new 'muséoparc'. The structure is a cylinder, framed by a patchwork of wooden cladding, and was designed by the same chap behind the new Acropolis Museum, built with the return of the Elgin Marbles very much in mind.

The designer would account for the calm, airy, light feel inside, and the exhibition moves neatly from point to point. The audioguide adds to what you're looking at, but after 12 of about 33 segments to listen to I'm a little tired of the chirping voice in my ear, and instead rely on the information boards alone. What people there are inside thin out as 2pm approaches, while we head for lunch on the museum's terrace, with the others going to watch people dressed as Gauls recreate how they fought at an approximation of a Roman fort a few hundred yards from the museum itself.

We take that time to digest and see the rest of the exhibitions, and the view from the terrace on the rooftop, then wander into the gift shop (where I turn down the chance to buy an Idéfix (Dogmatix to us) fridge magnet, minutes after mentioning to Mel that he was my favourite Asterix character - being a museum partly focused on the Gauls there's quite a bit of Asterix stuff).

The museum is actually in two parts (three if you count the Vercingetorix statue we saw on the first day), and so we scoot 5km or so up the road to some Roman ruins. Where I buy an Idéfix fridge magnet from the gift shop. This feels a little like the unloved cousin of the main museum, with the building resembling a large portacabin, and 'ruins' is the right word, with virtually nothing left of this hilltop site. The walk around is relatively brief, and heading back to the car we recognise people from the main museum, who had gone to the Gallic reconstruction, taking their turn to arrive.

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I hadn't anticipated becoming an interpreter for anyone other than Mel on this trip (and even then her understanding is better than she would admit), but I found myself in the middle of a German couple and the French woman leading a tasting at Domaine Flavigny-Alésia.

Our host's English is good, but a few times she's not sure how to say something, while the young (mid-20s?) German couple had some French, but better English. Just a couple of times I become a go-between, which is interesting when the chat is about types of soil, or why the dessert wine is such high ABV. That's not the kind of vocabulary you learn at school generally.

We were left to chat for a short while, as our host had to process a payment for someone (we find out later she has been manning the fort on her own for the whole weekend - granted it's not main tourist season, but this still seemed a bit unfair given the place seemed to have a steady stream of visitors). So we learned about Franconian wine and beer (they're from Nuremberg), and the cycle tour they did around Brittany and the south of England, using a ferry to Plymouth and back from Portsmouth.

The wines themselves were good. Nothing earth-shattering, but good enough to warrant purchasing, and both a white (a 2012 Auxerois) and a red (César, the oldest grape variety in France, and particular to this region) find their way into the boot of the car, in multiple form.