Saint-Emillon and Biarritz
Vineyards of Merlot grapes
It was hard to say “au revoir” to Paris (it’s hard enough to pronounce it, let alone leave a city you were falling in love with), but we rented a car and jumped behind the wheel to drive to the small medieval winemaking town of Saint-Emillon. Our first lesson came within seconds of leaving the airport – driving in France is tricky. We actually managed to miss our first exit twice, catching it on the third go-around. As opposed to the states, where you’re given multiple warnings about every exit, intersection, and speed limit, the French like to post something once, usually just a few seconds from the point where you’ll need the information. After more than a few wrong turns, we were on our way.
Standing on top of the monolithic church
I’m afraid that this post will have some negative perspectives on French culture, but I’d like to start by complimenting their driving style. One of the curious little intricacies I’ve come to appreciate about each country I visit is the driving style. Most of us Californians are familiar with Mexico’s haphazard daily games of chicken on the road (my first taste of international driving). That’s nothing compared to Vietnam where the style involves honking every several seconds, loading up half your belongings onto your scooter, and ignoring all laws of traffic and many laws of physics. The French however, are complete gentlemen on the road. They have an orderly set of conventions for passing which I was able to pick up easily. In fact, I’d say that passing a Frenchman on the road was probably the height of our communication with the French!
Church in Saint Emillon
We stopped at a city called Orleans on the way. We have no idea how it’s pronounced, and mostly stopped there because Adam is obsessed with New Orleans. The only thing these two cities have in common is the state of their bathrooms (I’ll save you the explanation). Orleans was our introduction to non-Parisian French culture, and it immediately made us feel like complete idiots. We had a bathroom mishap (we got yelled at for asking about the bathroom), an ice cream mishap (we thought the soft-serve was self-serve and got quickly reprimanded), and even a train mishap (almost run over by a train which apparently runs right through the sidewalk we were standing on.) A note to newly married men: when a train is about to run you over, think of the wife before yourself. I dropped Sophia’s hand and jumped out of the way of the train only to leave Sophia standing there to fend for herself. While she proved quite capable of fending for herself, she’ll never let me live that one down!
Picnic of jambon, caviar, baguette, camembert
We had one full day in Saint-Emillon. It proved to be a challenging one. Our interactions with the French people were just awkward. They didn’t seem interested in helping us spend our money or learn about their town. We made due, had a nice breakfast of bread, coffee, and orange juice (a whopping 25 euros, ouch). Next we had our highlight of the day, which consisted of walking the rolling hills of Saint-Emillon, through vineyards and orchards, observing the beautiful French countryside. We took a tour of their castle, which is Europe’s largest monolithic church (literally carved out from the rock of the hillside). This church is truly unbelievable. It’s huge and ornate, like many other European churches, but it’s inside of a rock. So when you go in, there are catacombs (with centuries-old tombs), wall paintings, and enormous chambers. They don’t allow for photography inside the church, so you’ll have to go yourself to see it, which I highly recommend. We picnicked outside of the church on store bought delicacies.
Church St. Eugenie in Biarritz overlooking the beach
After the church we headed out to wine taste. Well, we tried. We walked out to a pretty little chateu that doesn’t require reservations and speaks English, but they were inexplicably closed. We asked around town for recommendations but only got conflicting information. After more than a few mishaps, we found our salvation. A wine store in town, run by a nice man named Mansur, provided us with what nobody else would give us: information, wine tasting, explanations, and good conversation. Mansur explained the different regions surrounding the Medoc river, told us about the group that rates the wineries every 10 years, and how the rating system works. We tasted about 7 different wines and ended up buying a case to have shipped home. Saint-Emillon makes wines that are mostly Merlot (mixed with some Cabarnet Franc), and they are quite different from what we have back home. These wines can be good for decades. Most wines we bought were from 2002 or 2003, and while some are good for drinking now, others are suggested to be opened in 20 years!
Our first taste of Basque cuisine in Biarritz
After a forgettable dinner (all the other restaurants were booked – they take reservations seriously there), we had the pleasure of running into some of Sophia’s friends, Leigh and Pat (who have a similar travel blog here) went to sleep and got up the next day to drive to Biarritz, France.
Biarritz was our first stop in Pays Basque, a wonderful region straddling France and Spain, and home to a friendly, culinarily-inspired culture. We ate well, were entertained by a local barkeeper with a great sense of humor, strolled the beautiful beaches, passed through an oddly reminiscent and sad little casino, and ate a delicious dinner.
The best times are just the two of us
Next up is San Sebastian. Look forward to an article about mind blowing pinxtos (tapas), a big party night with Txakoli and Erin Reeser, a stunning beach encompassed by dual hilltop vistas, boobs, and whatever happens tonight.
I think I recall drinking Saint Emilion wines when we were first married. If I am right, we considered them a real treat. Your pictures are wonderful, as are your descriptions. It sounds like you are having a wonderful time. Miss you!