As I plan my first solo trip to Burgundy, I can’t help but think back to my father’s stories of sharing a bottle of wine with his own dad, sitting under the shade of an old oak in our backyard. Back then, wine was about family, tradition, and the slow, careful tending of vines—nothing like the high-speed, Instagram-ready tours you see today. Now, as I look to visit legendary producers like Pierre-Yves Colin-Morey, I wonder: is the heart of Burgundy still found in quiet cellars and handwritten labels, or in the curated experiences offered by slick tour companies? Some friends swear by private guides who know every hidden vineyard, while others argue that the best discoveries come from wandering on your own, risking a little confusion for the sake of authenticity. There’s a real tension here—between honoring the old ways and embracing the new, between the personal freedom to explore and the community’s pride in their traditions. And with Burgundy’s unpredictable spring weather, I worry: will I find the same warmth and welcome my family spoke of, or will climate change and tourism have changed the landscape forever? I’d love to hear from those who’ve walked these paths before. Did you find that sense of healing and connection, or did the modern trappings get in the way? Let’s talk about what we gain—and what we risk losing—as our love for wine crosses generations and continents. #BurgundyMemories #WineTraditions #GenerationalGardening #Travel