Beside the Seaside

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In Which I.. hic.. Visit a Vineyard

August 28, 2007 by Mike

Bordeaux

Monday I spent in town, Tuesday I spent round and about.

Monday I went on a walking tour of the city. Yes, one of those 'touristy' things I'm not supposed to even consider doing. But I'm glad I did. This really is a beautiful city and, even though the tour took in no streets or buildings I hadn't gazed at last night, I was seeing them through the eyes of a local enthusiast. More context.

Of my fellow walkees, I got talking to the other non-French speakers: George and Melva from Oklahoma.

George has a rice farm and is retired from the military; Melva, a Region Volunteer for English Springer Rescue America Inc., is part Cherokee, part Chickasaw (I think I got that right) and rightly proud of what her tribes have achieved -- what she has achieved. She's been fascinated by Eleanor of Aquitaine since she was just a wee girl (Melva, not Eleanor - who died in 1204, after all) and here we were, quite a few years later, if Melva will forgive me, standing right on the spot of Eleanor's Palace. I felt quite touched to be sharing this moment.

(I was glad to broaden her knowledge of Eleanor of Aquitaine. Specifically, that the first 'millionaire' winner of the original Who Wants To Be A Millionaire was a woman called Judith Keppel, whose million pound question was "Which English king was married to Eleanor of Aquitaine?"

I'd like to think Melva will keep that piece of trivia and use it herself, sometime, back in Oklahoma City.)

Bordeaux has changed radically over the last 30 years -- we learned. It helps when yr Mayor has also been the Prime Minister: I imagine certain deals have been smoothed, if not greased, along the way. The removal of warehouses from the waterfront has opened up a broad sweep of the river and exposed the beautiful mansions and townhouses behind them. These self same mansions have been cleaned up too, going from the dirty black of generations of filthy urban living to clean, clear limestone.

A new tramline has cut back on the space available to cars and in turn made the air more breathable and the whole place more welcoming to pedestrians.

It starts, though, with the elegance of the 18th century architecture, the close streets and the big houses. The old Bordeaux is reasserting itself even as the new Bordeaux, sophisticated, prosperous, *confident*, is trying to make a name for itself on the world stage. To be honest, they deserve to succeed. My impressions of the place, before I arrived, were distressingly slender. Big-ish city; occasionally successful football team; wine. Not necessarily in that order. It has a lot going for it. But the football team still aren't much cop.

It's dry again, but the nearest campsite is 20 minutes outside the city. I'm in the Youth Hostel. Which is how I came to hook up with The Englishman, The American and The Swede for what might on the outside look like a night of boozing, but was of course nothing more than a little Male Bonding (in a bar.)

The Englishman came from Ipswich, the Swede twitched when I said I was half-Norwegian and the Yankee was already on the defensive knowing that everyone in Yurp (Europe) hated everyone from the States. By rights I could have hated them all, instinctively. But that's the thing about house red.. I mean male bonding.. we broke through the lazy stereotypes and had a great evening. Largely at the expense of the poor sap from Ipswich, yes, but what's the harm in that?

And on *Tuesday*, as already advertised, I snuck out for wine country, visiting a couple of chateaux to see where all my money goes. Into making beautiful houses, it turns out, and huge stainless steel vats, row upon row of barrels of finest Girondian oak; acres of grapes that, at this precise time of the year, need sun and heat rather than rain, if the whole year is not to be wasted. I know how they feel.

It was a good afternoon, especially as I got to sit up at the front, right over he coach drivers' shoulder, and remember what it's like to be on a road with four wheels beneath you.

Strangely comfortable, since you ask.

Bordeaux: