Chef Dominique Crenn—the legendary first female chef to attain three Michelin stars in the U.S. and chef to Monsieur Dior—is waving with gusto from the deck of Lilas, each flourish seeming to propel the barge across the sun-dappled River Saône. On shore, admirers have gathered: a quintet of creamy-colored Charolais cows, lowing as we pass.

“Bonjour, bonjour!” Chef Crenn cries. “Désolé, I have lunch to serve!” She turns her attention back to us and the menu du jour—one she has specially created as the first culinary curator for Belmond’s Les Bateaux, a fleet of seven French river barges, which includes our good ship Lilas, traversing the river and canal networks of Burgundy, Champagne, and the South of France.

As we cruise along on our sleek péniche­-hôtel, a journey through Chef Crenn’s childhood summers spent in Brittany and the seasonal delights of the surrounding region unfurls: a sprightly spring pea tart topped with trout roe, asparagus picked from the river banks that morning and dressed with caviar and saffron, a tumble of the French-style pasta Raviole du Dauphiné with Bouillabaise and thick braids of mussels and crab meat, and an elegant lemon and olive oil cake dusted with tarragon and pistachio. A zippy Chablis of the local family-run Domaine des Malandes keeps us buoyant. Lilas glides languorously toward Mâcon, and Chef Crenn suns herself on the polished teak steps of the on-deck pool.

“I hope you fall in love with Burgundy like I have. You have much to discover—if you can force yourself off of the boat!” she says, sprinkling the remainder of the gold leaf from dessert through the air; a second, culinary christening for Lilas and our next five nights calling the barge our home.

Raviole du Dauphiné by Chef Dominique Crenn.

Photo: Courtesy of Les Bateaux Belmond

A tomato salad and fresh baguette from an on-shore boulangerie.

Photo: Courtesy of Les Bateaux Belmond

Before Lilas became part of the LVMH-owned Belmond family, she was Josiane, a 40-meter-long river freighter that carried grain across France from 1952 to 2017. Designer Inge Moore took to restoring her, inspired by biophilic design sensibilities: rooms are accented with the lilac florals the boat takes its name from, with opulent Carrara marble bathrooms. The four bedrooms—one above deck and three below—are surprisingly spacious, and one even has room for a free-standing tin bathtub. The main cabin basks in the pale morning sun and mauve sunsets, all pale rattan furnishings and lime-washed, oak walls. Stacks of periwinkle knit blankets sit out for cooler evenings, with hurricane lamps providing ambience for aperitivo hours. The bookshelf houses well-thumbed copies of The World Atlas of Wine and Richard Olney’s Simple French Food, with maps of the region’s wine and cheese that we’ll sample along the way by the dozens. Outside, Lilas is striped white and blue, like our captain and crew of five’s Breton shirts. An elongated porthole window provides a tableau to gaze out at the passing chateaus and medieval churches over slow breakfasts: warm viennoiserie from local boulangeries we had moored close to, jewel-like apricots and citrus, a soft pepper-dusted goat’s cheese for spreading on warm baguette.

Slow afternoons cruising offers guests ample time to taste the local wines.

Photo: Kate Devine

The deck of the Lilas, which features its own plunge pool.

Photo: Richard James Taylor

Our itinerary is just as malleable, from Lyon to Montmerles, Tournus, Chalon-sur-Saône and Beaune, Seurre, Dijon, and St Jean De Losne: regional wines, local cheeses, and our trips to the markets shape the day more than anything. Before we had even set foot on Lilas, our group met in Lyon and toured the famous indoor market Les Halles de Lyon Paul Bocuse (named after the “Pope of French cuisine”)—tasting the nutty, creamy Saint-Marcellin cheese, truffle-studded hams, and brioche sparkling with pink praline. My vocal admiration for the bowls of sumptuous oeufs en meurette and plump quenelles was quietly noted, and appeared later in on-board menus that were presented to us each morning on pretty scalloped-edged cards. But ultimately, this trip is a sensuous, unhurried immersion for wine-lovers in terroir, designed for oenophiles who prefer their grands crus paired with time, elegance, and the soft rhythms of the river.

Photo: Kate Devine

I wake up on that first morning to the green waters lapping, and the Romanesque architecture of Tournus rising through my bedroom porthole, before we start cruising toward Chalon-sur-Saône. After a tour of Hôtel-Dieu, one of the finest examples of 15th-century Burgundian architecture (organized by the Belmond team), we venture on to wine tasting at Maison Joseph Drouhin, one of the oldest wine cellars in Beaune. Here, we sample seven of their most prestigious wines. Our own personalized promenade through the distinguished house’s emblematic wines takes us through almost 2,000 years of history, cellars that once belonged to the Duke of Burgundy one hectare below ground. Our guide Sebastian is emphatic, pouring an elegant and perfumed Chambolle-Musigny from one of Côte de Nuits’s most seductive villages, and a rich, eclectic Meursault Chardonnay with abundance. Red Pinot Noirs and crisp white Chardonnays shine here, underground in the caverns, and send us giggling back into the spring day, fingertips still dark with dust from the centuries-old bottles we traced on the way out.

One of the bedrooms aboard Lilas features a free-standing bath.

Photo: Kate Devine

Photo: Kate Devine

The following day, we take an early cruise toward the chocolate box town of Seurre, and hop on our bikes to journey further to the great appellations of Burgundy wine on the Route des Grands Crus. The first stop among the rolling green hills is Château du Clos de Vougeot to take in some 900 years of wine history, the grand building built in the 12th century by monks from the nearby Abbey of Cîteaux. Here is the true birthplace of winegrowing in Burgundy: a historic, UNESCO-protected site where Cistercian and Renaissance art acts as the backdrop to stylish parties and cultural events. Back on the bikes with the sun on our backs, we make our way toward Domaine Drouhin-Laroze, the winding roads through fields only interrupted by the occasional horse tilling the soil. (This is a region where many French farmers have replaced tractors with animal traction, cultivating healthy vines and better, biodynamic wine—yes, history and tradition are sacred here, but not at the expense of developing wine.)

That’s all the more evident when we meet at the house of legendary winemaker Joseph Drouhin, where five generations have run his eponymous house with passion. It was in the ’80s—long before we were all obsessed with orange and natural wines—that the family began converting the estate to organic and biodynamic viticulture. The Drouhin clan is one of only 12 highly respected families that hold membership to Primum Familiae Vini, an international association that upholds values of family-owned wineries throughout Europe. Véronique Boss-Drouhin is our guide through cellars, where she would play hide and seek as a child across its 2.5 acres of corridors lined with hulking barrels and Gallo-Roman ruins. We taste eight famed wines that reflect their fine Burgundy Climats. It’s here, in the cool cellars, that the reds really sing; like a ruby-toned Vosne-Romanée 1er Cru 2022, silky and elegant with ripe morello cherry notes. Many of these wines show up for our lunches and dinners back on board, paired with beef cheek and rich stews.

Breakfast was usually taken with local pastries, cheeses, and fruits while cruising to the next stop.

Photo: Kate Devine

The leisurely schedule—and also, probably, the several glasses of elegant Cru I’m consuming each day—allows for more sprightly and spontaneous moments in the day than you’d expect of a chartered boat. The Belmond team encourages us to be curious, to look at a passing town or ruin and (figuratively) steer the wheel to shore. An excursion into Burgundy sees us duck into the famous Maille mustard shop, filling up on samples of whisky and truffle-infused pots of the yellow stuff. Off the famous Dijon market, I purchase a terrine and the plate the jelly cubed samples rested on from a particularly charming stall proprietor. We eat it at a chaotically self-curated aperitivo hour later, with garlicky bulots followed by macaroons that other travel mates bought. Another morning, our wonderful, knowledgeable, and deliciously sardonic Belmond guide Marion marches us to a rag-tag market at Verdun-sur-le-Doubs, where among stalls of vintage fondue sets and teapots, I find a gingham mini-dress, Marianne Faithfull-esque sunglasses, and a crochet pillowcase for a euro each.

Impromptu picnics along the river banks.

Photo: Kate Devine

We moor for the last time at St Jean de Losne in the Côte-d’Or, where the crew hosts a glitzy gala evening—we are at our most brave with the funkiest cheeses yet, and of course, a praline-dusted slab of chocolate cake to go with the finest, final Burgundy. We’re accidentally serenaded by dock workers, who we share the last of the bottle with as a tip. That abundant, convivial spirit of Lilas stays with us long after we abandon our sea legs.