We had already been to Dijon in advance of our night's stay there, to drop off some washing, and it looked like a really nice town. We located where we'd be leaving the hire car (Avis at the railway station) and its relationship to the hotel we'd booked, and took morning-tea in la Place Zola. Here we discovered that the French 'sandwich' is a far cry from the anglophonic one: it's half a baguette ! How DIVINE !  :-)
So when we drove in, we were able to go directly to the Hostellerie Sauvage to leave our luggage; upon checking in, the extraordinarily nice mistress of the place advised us "Mais il y a une grève demain -- il n'y aura aucun train !" (or something like that, at least !), and she was RIGHT. SNCF staff had, for reasons we never established, decided to call a strike for one day -- the next day, the day on which we were due to take the TGV to Paris ! So with enormous regret (for we could smell the Hostellerie's lunch cooking), we expressed our gratitude for her absolute willingness to cancel our booking, bade her farewell and took ourselves and the car off to the railway station and got tickets for that very afternoon. We spent an hour beforehand walking around Dijon -- a most attractive city, and we enjoyed every minute of it.
If ever we have the good fortune to return to France, we shall most definitely include Dijon on our itinerary.
The TGV trip to Paris was splendid, with one negative point; the footrests are on the seats in front, and they are not nearly *wide* enough. This means that in order to put your feet up, you have to either forcibly keep your knees pressed tightly together (very ladylike !) or let them fall apart so that your feet end up resting on their outsides. Like I said, a small point; but to be honest, I seriously wouldn't care to spend a great deal of time travelling in a TGV because of it.
Which is a great shame, because the club car sold the most delicious packed salads with plain rolls, and the journey was sheer joy; one is totally unaware of the speed, as the countryside seems to pass by quite normally. Sighh ... perhaps only a person carrying more avoir dupoids than she oughta would be conscious of this footrest "problem" ...
ANYWAY ...! The trip to Paris was a kind of watershed; it meant the end of all provincial travelling and a return to life in the big city. At least the city in question was Paris -- not quite the same as Sydney ...