I wake up in a bright room overlooking old brick roofs with stork nests, the main street, and a medieval castle in a quiet town in the Swiss Jura. “I could write a book here” is my first thought upon opening my eyes. “I would start by describing the room and then gradually include characters - the guests at the auberge, their stories and ties. A neat and stylish hotel, with a terrace and a hanging mutton sign in front, would be the perfect setting.”
As I lie in bed, nearby church bells begin their elaborate song. I am trying to catch it with my phone, but the melody escapes me. The bells fall silent before I get to the window. The morning air is fresh, which is a welcome change to a stiff, hot, incandescent summer in Zagreb. (I forgot to mention that it’s the summer of 2024. The hottest I remember back home.) I wear socks, another welcome change, and drink tea by the open window. The clouds, as if painted, pass by over the rooftops. The street is quiet. I look down from the window: only an occasional cyclist rides or stops by the auberge.
I love this simple, airy room and its squeaky parquet. In fact, it’s my ideal room. Uncluttered, generous with letting the light in, and if I lean over the windowsill, I can see people sitting on the bistro terrace on the ground floor. That sight becomes even more interesting at dinnertime.
As much as I like sitting here by the window, I am impatient about the breakfast downstairs (as I always am in good places). Down the lovingly kept wooden stairs, past tiny shelves with tiny mutton figurines, and into the simple, tasteful dining room, dominated by a colourful painting and a vase with gladioli.
There are croissants, baguette slices, butter, cheese, a bowl of granola, yoghurt, dark berries jam, fruit, and a cappuccino. No tablecloth, just a simple wooden table. The waitress is speaking French; we try to follow.
The owner comes to say hi and then proceeds to work at the reception upstairs. There’s vintage design furniture and a collection of magazines and books I’d like to read on a rainy day. However, it’s a sunny day, and I’ve never been here before.
Plan for the day: buy doughnuts, take the train to a little town nearby, rent bikes, and ride down the river. (That’s what summer days are for.) It’s a medieval town on the Doubs river, with well-kept houses, a church with a cloister, flowers in the courtyards and on the windowsills, and a motor race coming up this weekend- the streets are in preparation for the race.
The river is green and leafy on both shores, the road passes through woods and meadows, occasional cows are spotted. We find a grove and eat doughnuts while looking at the water. I go up to my thighs, find a rock to climb right in the middle and look down. It’s a beautiful green sight. I cannot imagine a nicer one.
Later, we sit in a little cafe and a bookstore that serves local elderflower ice cream. I am very thirsty, and I ask the owner to bring me apple juice with sparkling water. He nods knowingly. I browse through books (all in French, but I don’t mind) and then simply observe passers-by: locals, cyclists, tourists.
In the evening, there’s dinner on the terrace with green chairs at the auberge. I wear a long blue dress, brought specifically for this occasion, as I hoped for a fresh evening in the Jura. There’s chatter and dinner clatter, extremely good duck on the menu, and a nice natural wine from the region. A stork flies over and lands on a roof across the street. A choir is having a rehearsal nearby. Their song escapes through the open windows into the summer evening, and we can hear it on the terrace. A perfect summer’s day. I can’t wait to wake up with that view the next morning and head to Biel.
The quiet town: Porrentruy
Stay&Eat: Auberge du Mouton
Cycle: Saint-Ursanne
Doughnuts: La Bonne Miche
Library-cafe in Saint-Ursanne: Le Vent se lève
