Semur-en-Auxois

Semur-en-Auxois is one of those places where the geography does half the storytelling before you’ve read a single plaque. The town sits on a spur of pink granite, and the Armançon river, rather than flowing past it in a straight line, bends around three sides of the rock in a tight horseshoe, as if it changed its mind about leaving. Medieval builders clearly noticed the same thing I did on my first approach from the Auxerre road — that this was about as naturally fortified a site as Burgundy has to offer — and built accordingly, ringing the spur with ramparts and four massive round towers, one of which, the Tour de l’Orle d’Or, still cracked clean down one side from a 16th-century siege, stands taller than anything else in town.

Walking the ramparts above the river bend

The best way to understand Semur is to walk the promenade des remparts, the path that traces the old fortifications along the cliff edge above the Armançon. From up there you can watch the river curl around beneath you in that improbable loop, with the huddled rooftops of the lower town and the old stone bridge, the Pont Joly, holding everything together at the pinch point where the loop nearly closes. I came in late afternoon, when the granite genuinely does turn a warm rose-pink in the light, and stood at the viewpoint by the towers for longer than I’d planned, mostly just working out the river’s route with my eyes like a puzzle.

A collegiate church and a very small dragon

Inside the walls, the Collégiale Notre-Dame dominates the old town with a facade that’s been patched together across several centuries, Gothic doorways next to later repairs, and inside, oddly wonderful stained glass donated in the 19th century by local guilds — including a window paid for by grocers that depicts, among biblical scenes, a small carved dragon tucked into the church’s south doorway, said locally to be the Crémot, a beast supposedly slain in the marshes nearby. Lia spent a good ten minutes trying to find it before I pointed it out, half-hidden above the arch, and it’s the kind of small local legend that tells you more about a town’s self-image than any grand monument does.

When to go: Late spring through early autumn gives you the best light on the granite and lets you properly walk the ramparts without mud or cold wind off the river. It’s an easy, uncrowded stop if you’re already tracing the Auxois countryside between Dijon and the Morvan.