Archives for May 2019

Friday to Sunday, May 10 to 12

We sadly left the beaches and pines behind us and headed a few hours north. I figure that, if one is always sorry to leave someplace, one has made some good choices about where to spend time. That, at least, would be the half-full-glass interpretation. We have purposely given ourselves at least 3 days in each area we will visit, in the hopes of not having regrets based on not having enough time. In this case, it was regrets simply because the place felt so familiar and attractive, the sea air was so good. So that’s the right kind of regrets on leaving.

We traveled the length of Cap Ferret, skirted the metropolis of Bordeaux, crossed first the Garonne River then the Dordogne River. An hour later we were in Cognac country.

Only a few hours difference, but a world away. Cognac country is rolling hills, all lush and green at this time of year. Deciduous trees, agricultural fields. Vineyards and more vineyards. Old stone villages. Hence the reference to stones and vines. As we drove through the countryside, we kept seeing signs that said, “des Pierres et des Vignes,” of the stones and the vines.

On Saturday, we explored the Cognac region. We had to dodge some heavy rain showers, but the skies lightened up as the day went along.

We combined the more interesting features of a couple recommended drives. As much as we could, we followed the pretty Charente River, which is the backbone of it all.

We visited an old abbey and a couple 12th century churches.

We squeezed our way through some tiny village passageways and luxuriated in broad, open vistas. We saw both urban and country versions of the Charente. We saw bridges and locks (lots of locks!).

We saw miles and miles, hillsides, of vineyards. We saw warehouses and cooperage yards. The making of Cognac is definitely the local business.

We decided to visit the Cognac bar in our hotel at the end of the day, by far the prettiest room in the old chateau. We knew we would regret not experiencing a tasting in that elegant setting. Just to keep ourselves somewhat moderate, we shared a single tasting, which included one VSOP and two XO’s.

On Sunday—a windy but beautiful day—we planned to visit two of the Cognac “houses,” both located in old town Cognac. Martell (opening at noon) and Otard (opening at 2pm) were our choices, after reading multiple sources. The best laid plans….

Martell, it turned out, had opened at 10am—a bit early for Cognac tasting. Though friendly, they were not doing tours because of their renovations. A couple staff people carefully walked us through the many different Cognac products available. They would have happily done a tasting for us, but we decided to go up to the top of the building where they have a panorama bar. There, too, you can have a tasting. We opted to sit out in the sun on the deck, looking at the red tile roofs of the old town while sipping two of the numerous Cognac cocktails offered.

When we arrived at Otard at around 1:40pm, we saw a sign that an English tour had just started at 1:30pm. Obviously, they too had opened earlier than the listed time. The next tour in English was to be at 4pm. Fortunately, they allowed us to catch up to the tour. In truth, we’ve seen enough distilleries that there wasn’t really much new territory to cover—just lots and lots of stairs to various levels of cellars and history. We did learn that only 2% of Cognac production is consumed in France. Think about it. They have all this land and all these producers, warehouses, cooperages, etc., for something that is almost entirely made for foreign markets. That isn’t evident in the region, where a lot of that 2% must be consumed. Because every restaurant and hotel and brasserie is serving Cognac on its own, Cognac-based cocktails, or Cognac-enhanced foods and dishes.

This is amongst the prettiest wine regions we’ve visited—flower-filled stone villages, winding river, gentle hills, and, of course, more vineyards than we could count. A complete contrast to the Atlantic seacoast of our first few days. This is one of the things we’ve always loved about France: Each region is distinct. Here, within a few hours of each other, we’ve visited two unique-to-themselves areas.

Monday to Thursday, May 6 to 9

We have landed and are shifting into our France mode.

We had a relatively smooth flight from Portland to Amsterdam. We left a half hour late. Since we had a 6-1/2-hour layover, that was no problem. But then our second leg, taking us to Bordeaux, left an hour late, lengthening an already very long transition day.

We picked up our rental car (having been upgraded to a Toyota Hybrid at least in part because “they’re popular with our seniors”) and headed for the Atlantic Coast. We thought this would be an easy, low key way to adjust to our new time zone. It was supposed to be a 1-hour drive.

Our helpful Europcar staff had programmed our SatNav system with the address of our hotel. We lost some time in very heavy traffic, but still thought we were okay. We landed in the right area generally, but not the right town specifically. (We eventually figured out that a digit in the postal code—the French equivalent of our zip codes—had been entered incorrectly in the navigation system.) We logged in about 30 to 40 extra kilometers and were starting to wonder how we were going to resolve our problem. What few towns and businesses we’d found were closed up. I tried to use my phone to call the hotel and to use a map, but couldn’t get a signal. It was now getting dark and raining, and we were in a sparsely populated finger of land in the sea. We stopped at a camping site where I engaged with one of the campers to try to determine where we should head. With no English being spoken, the man was able to respond to my not-so-eloquent French enough to point our car in the right direction. We eventually arrived at our hotel in the small seaside town of Cap Ferret around 9pm, not only running on fumes energy-wise but also pretty drained stress-wise. We had a couple bugaboos with our room and getting access to parking. Then the hotel sent us to the only restaurant they thought would still be open and that was reasonably nearby. When we arrived on foot and in a steady rain, it was closed. We saw a group of people standing in front of an establishment down the block. It turned out to be a wine bar that was willing to serve us some tapas (and wine, of course). The only seating was outside under an awning. A little chilly and a wee bit damp, but the food hit the spot and the service was friendly and helpful. Jerry asked whether a wine we were served was from the Cabernet Franc grape. Our super-friendly server was embarrassed to not know the answer. She asked the manager, who didn’t know either. I asked to look at the bottle and found Cabernet Franc in the fine print at the bottom of the back label. Jerry got major kudos from our server. When we settled our bill and were about to toddle off to collapse into our bed, she came out to say they wanted to offer us our choice of a Cognac or Armagnac. Such a nice and welcoming gesture. We had one of each, as research for our next stop in Cognac, of course. A pleasant wrap up to a challenging and tiring day.

Wednesday was our fresh start. We drove out to the very end of Cap Ferret, a long peninsula somewhat enclosing the Bassin d’Arcachon, a large lagoon. We climbed up to a sandy spot that gave us a good view across the mouth of the Bassin to the Dune du Pilat, Europe’s highest sand dune. We also could look out to the Atlantic, with the wind whipping our hair and helping to keep us awake.

Our next stop was the Phare du Cap Ferret (lighthouse). We were saved from climbing the 258 steps to the top when two large groups of 8- to 10-year olds arrived to climb up right ahead of us. The thought of sharing the adventure with these rambunctious youngsters running up and down the narrow spiral staircase was enough to keep us admiring the lighthouse from outside.

We walked through our little town and along the lagoon, where we could see the legendary oyster beds. We saw oyster farmers out working the oysters, and we saw numerous oyster tasting businesses. The lagoon is famous for its oysters, but also all manner of shellfish and fish.

To cap off our day, we had dinner at a nice restaurant along the water. We started with an assiete des fruits de mer (plate of seafood). The oysters were fresh and briny. We also had large shrimp (in the shell and with their heads still attached) and a bunch of whelks (think snails inside twisty, conical shells). Yum!

Once again, our service was friendly. A young woman who had traveled in Canada was assigned to us because of her English. She was self conscious because it had been years since she’d used her English. Ditto my French, but we did just fine between us. Later the manager came over to our table and struck up a conversation. He was eager to practice his English. He said they see very few Americans in this area. Thanks to his enthusiasm, we ended up shutting down the place.

When we left to walk back to our hotel, the wind had really picked up. Shortly after we returned, we had a gully washer of a storm that came through and lasted most of the night.

On Thursday, we took a Michelin-recommended drive around the Bassin. We drove through a series of oyster ports, stopping to wander here and there. We visited a couple 12th century Romanesque churches.

The highlight of the day was seeing Gujan Mestres, an oyster port with canals lined with oyster huts. One of the canals has an oyster museum and dozens of oyster tasting shacks. That area also had tour buses and lots of people, so we didn’t dawdle too long there.

We ended our day with another seafood plate and some beautifully prepared fish at a casual and busy restaurant in the fishermen’s village section of Cap Ferret.

Once again, we seemed to be a curiousity. Anyone who spoke English stopped by our table to engage with us. Most everyone asked where we were from. A response of “Oregon” usually confused people. I would usually include a reference to the Cote Ouest (West Coast) to help out. We also usually mention that Oregon is “north of California.” One person asked if we were near the Yukon. Well, not quite that far north.

On our way back to our hotel, we stopped to admire the majestic lighthouse in its nighttime guise.

This part of France is called the Cote d’Argent (the Silver Coast) and is unlike any other French region we have visited. It’s all about sand dunes and pine trees and seafood—and definitely the oysters. It’s clearly France, but it struck a real chord of recognition for these two West Coast folks. It’s not hard to understand why this is a favorite vacation destination for the French.

We will soon be winging our way to France, almost by definition wine country. But we will be spending the bulk of our journey specifically in the Bordeaux wine country, with a few side trips here and there. We are aiming for a quieter pace than our last couple trips, slowing down and hoping to soak in more of the feel of each place we visit rather than rushing through.

I am including a map to give an idea of where we’re hopping. (This may be hard to read. If you click on the image, you may be able to enlarge it. I’m afraid I was at the limit of my Google mapmaking skill set. There are blue markers for each place we’re staying, and they are numbered chronologically. Good luck!)

We will spend the first few nights along the Atlantic Coast, which we hope will make a relaxing start to the trip. Then we’ll head north for a few days in Cognac, an area we’ve never visited before, and one steeped in history.

Next will be 5 days in the Medoc area of the Bordeaux wine country, which is the largest wine region in France. We will stay in Margaux, a good base for our exploring. Then we’re off to the beautiful city of Bordeaux, where our niece Jill and her husband Randy will join in our trek. After a few days of city sights, we’ll spend a couple nights at a vineyard outside the charming town of St-Emilion.

The Dordogne next claims our attention. Sarlat will be our home for a week of visiting prehistoric caves, pilgrimage sites, castles, and villages. Our dear companions have to head back to Portland and working life, at which point we will move on to the Entre-deux-Mers wine region for a few nights. We will wrap up our trip in the Sauternes region, also for a few nights.

While we expect plenty of opportunities to taste lovely Bordeaux wines, our focus is on the history, bastide towns, castles, churches, and chateaus, with lots of charm and cobblestones along the way.