Okay, so a Burgundy wine tour is like falling into a postcard and then spilling wine all over it. I’m sitting here in my cramped Boston apartment, surrounded by empty coffee cups and a bag of Doritos I regret opening, still buzzing from my trip to France’s wine country. I’m no wine expert—half the time I’m picking bottles based on cool labels—but I went all-in on Burgundy, and holy crap, it was a ride. Here’s my unfiltered, slightly embarrassing take on how to do a Burgundy wine tour as a clueless beginner.
I rolled into Dijon looking like a hot mess, jet-lagged and smelling like airplane snacks. Thought I’d be all sophisticated, sipping wine like I knew what I was doing. Nope. First vineyard in Côte de Nuits, I tripped over a vine and got mud all over my sneakers. My jeans? Stained with grape juice. But that first sip of Burgundy Pinot Noir? Like cherries and velvet had a baby, and I was in love. If you’re thinking about a Burgundy wine tour, lean into the chaos—it’s half the fun.
Why Burgundy Wine Tours Are Kinda Life-Changing
Look, Burgundy’s wine scene isn’t just about getting tipsy—it’s a whole mood. The hills are all golden and rolling, the chateaux look like they’re from a fairy tale, and the locals talk about wine like it’s their soulmate. I’m just a dude from the US who usually grabs cheap wine from the grocery store, but standing in a vineyard, glass in hand, I got why people rave about this place. Burgundy’s Pinot Noirs and Chardonnays are next-level, and the history? It’s been around forever. Check out Wine Folly’s guide for the lowdown on why Burgundy’s dirt makes such good wine.
What got me hooked:
- The people: Vineyard folks are like wine poets. One guy rambled about soil for 20 minutes while I nodded like I understood.
- The scenery: Misty mornings, golden vines. Felt like I was in a movie, minus my clumsy ass tripping everywhere.
- The flavors: Every wine was different. Some were fruity, some were like drinking dirt in a good way. Made me feel briefly fancy.
My Epic Fails on This Burgundy Wine Tour (Don’t Judge)
Alright, time for some real talk. I screwed up a lot on my Burgundy wine tour. Like, I’m sitting here staring at a wine stain on my hoodie, cracking up at how dumb I was. Here’s what not to do, so you don’t end up like me:
- Don’t cram in too many tastings: I thought I could hit five vineyards in a day. By number three, I was slurring and calling every wine “yummy.” Stick to two or three, max.
- Don’t wear white: I wore a white shirt. In the rain. To a vineyard. Looked like a soggy zebra by lunch.
- Don’t pretend you know stuff: I tried to sound smart, asking about “oaky vibes.” The winemaker stared at me like I’d kicked his cat. Just say you’re new—they’ll help.

How to Plan a Burgundy Wine Tour Without Losing Your Mind
Planning a Burgundy wine tour for newbies is overwhelming, especially when you’re googling from a noisy coffee shop in the US, like I was last month, dodging spilled lattes and loud Zoom calls. Here’s what I figured out after bumbling my way through:
- Pick a home base: Beaune or Dijon. Beaune’s cute and wine-obsessed; Dijon’s got more food spots. I stayed in Beaune, got lost in its cobblestone streets, and loved it.
- Book early: Big-name vineyards like Domaine de la Romanée-Conti book up fast. I thought I could just show up. Wrong. Try Rue des Vignerons for bookings.
- Get a guide or driver: I tried driving myself and ended up in a random field, yelling at my GPS. A guide knows the good spots and keeps you from DUI-ing on wine.
- Pack snacks: Tasting rooms don’t always have food, and wine on an empty stomach is a recipe for disaster. I learned this after a woozy afternoon and a sketchy gas station sandwich.
The Best Part of My Burgundy Wine Tour? The Total Chaos
Okay, here’s where I get mushy. The best part of my Burgundy wine tour wasn’t some fancy tasting or an overpriced bottle. It was this random picnic I tried to have near Pommard. I had this vision of a chic setup—baguette, cheese, Pinot Noir, perfect Instagram shot. Instead, ants attacked, my blanket got muddy, and I spilled wine on myself. But sitting there, laughing at my disaster, with the sun dipping over the vines? That was it. That was the moment.

I also met this old winemaker who barely spoke English but made me try his “special” Chardonnay. Pretty sure he was just unloading extra stock, but it was smooth and buttery, and we bonded over my awful French. Those little, messy moments? That’s why you do a Burgundy wine tour.
How to Taste Wine Without Looking Like an Idiot
Wine tasting is scary when you’re new. I walked into a tasting room in Nuits-Saint-Georges, sweating bullets, convinced everyone knew I was a fraud. Here’s how to not look like me:
- Swirl, sniff, sip: Swirl the glass to let the wine breathe, sniff for smells (fruit, spices, whatever), then sip slow. I practiced with water in my hotel room. No judgment.
- Ask stuff: Winemakers love curious people. I asked about “terroir,” and one guy went off for 15 minutes. Learned more than any book could teach.
- Spit sometimes: Spittoons are there for a reason. I didn’t spit at first, thinking it was rude, and regretted it when I got wobbly. You don’t have to chug everything.
- Write it down: I jotted notes in a notebook about what I liked. Helped me remember that crisp Chablis that tasted like apples.
Wine Spectator has a dope guide on tasting that saved me from looking like a total fool.

Wrapping Up My Burgundy Wine Tour Ramble
So, yeah, my Burgundy wine tour was a glorious trainwreck—spilled wine, wrong turns, and a new obsession with Pinot Noir. I’m back in Boston now, staring at a chipped wine glass I snagged from a vineyard shop, feeling like I left half my soul in those French hills. If you’re eyeing a Burgundy wine tour for newbies, just do it. You’ll mess up, you’ll learn, and you’ll have stories for days. My advice? Comfy shoes, don’t take it too seriously, and skip the white clothes.