Wine Country

Baggage claim at Bordeaux airport

My great-grandfather was born in Bordeaux and spent the first couple years of his life there. As such, my father was very interested in touring this wine-savvy city and visiting his roots. One of the vineyards in Bordeaux is actually called Chateau Phélan-Ségur; unfortunately, we happened to visit Bordeaux for the two days a year when the vineyard in closed. Still, the first thing my Dad did when we arrived in the city, before we even entered our apartment, was buy a bottle of Chateau Phélan.

   

Mom and Dad drinking Chateau Phélan Ségur

Daddy and I in front of the Museum of Customs 

 The apartment we were staying in was spectacular and perfectly located in the center of the old-town. We were right next to the medieval Porte Cailho and only a 5-10 minute walk from the Cathedral St. André and the Grand Opera House. The woman from whom we rented the apartment, Emmanuelle, is a photographer and had our apartment beautifully decorated with her works. Of course, Dad got to tell her all about Bito, mi abuelito, who was a photographer until the age of 89 and who always said “anyone can take a picture, but not anyone can be a photographer.” Emmanuelle had some of her works at an exhibit nearby, so we were also able to stop by that and see more of her photographs. Beautiful.

Porte Cailho  

The afternoon that we arrived, Tuesday, the three of us wandered through the small street of Bordeaux and went in and out of all of the cafés and boutiques that flooded every foot of every street. We went to Cathedral St. André and Dad and I climbed the bell tower so that we could see the city and the church from above.

Cathedrale St Pierre (view from atop bell-tower)

Kids playing in the water plaza, 'the water mirror,' in front of the Palace of Justice

Emmanuelle had recommended one of her favorite local restaurants to us, so for dinner we searched for the small restaurant, eventually finding it squeezed between dozens of other cafes lining a busy Bordeaux side street. It was worth the search. After 2.5 months living in France, this is by far the most authentic and best food I have had. Dad and I both had mussels in a garlic butter sauce to start off and Mom had a mushroom tart drizzled with cream. I have never had so many mussels and each one was perfectly cooked. The first course was so incredible that before we even got to our main plates, we made reservations at the same restaurant for the next night. For the main course Mom had beef that had been slowly soaked in a red-wine broth and then slowly cooked. The meat was so juicy and fell apart on your fork—a knife was unnecessary. Dad had rabbit that was cooked in a rich sauce. Again, the meat was perfectly cooked so that it was tender, but still held its strong flavor. I ordered  lamb cooked in a slow cream stew. Like Mom’s, it was an extremely tender piece of meat that fell apart on your fork. The flavor was absolutely incredible, and probably the best out of the three dishes. And to top the meal off, there was a little old Argentinian guitarist who was singing and playing on our street. The first song he sang was “Bésame mucho,” a song Bito used to sing a lot—it was a great memory of Bito while we were in his father’s birth town. By the end of the main course, we were all stuffed, but how can you say no to dessert at a restaurant like this? I had the profiteroles stuffed with vanilla ice cream and drizzled with chocolate ganache, mom had an almond panna cotta with a berry sauce, and Dad had caramelized apple pie.

Papi y la guitarrista

We started off our second day in Bordeaux with specialty coffee and pastries at a coffee/bookshop charmingly named “Books and Coffee.” We then made our way to the famous Bordeaux Opera House, The Grand Theater. To this day, operas and shows continue to be performed at the theater. When we toured it, the theater was decorated in an Alice in Wonderland theme, complete with a giant rabbit, a collection of mad hatter hats, and shrinking rabbit hole illusions throughout.

Breakfast

Entrance to the opera house

main costume room in the opera house

the theater at the Opera House

theater ceiling

Inside the grand theater

 We had originally hoped to visit Chateau Phélan-Ségur during our visit, but clearly this was not possible given the two days we were visiting. Instead we took a wine tour at another nearby vineyard, Chateau Luchey-Halde. The winery has been around for centuries, but during the Second World War, the French government took it over for military use and it was not returned until the 1990s. As such, it is a much more modern winery than some of the others in the Bordeaux region. We toured the vineyard and learned about the different grape leaves and shapes for each type of grape. Then we moved inside and saw all of the machines and equipment used to make the wines. First the grapes move through a conveyor belt to wean out inadequate grapes (both by machine and by hand), then they are crushed and moved to large metal chambers (each container is sorted by the type of grape) where the juice is subject to varying temperatures and allowed to ferment. When the wine is ready it is moved to oak barrels and left there for one year in order to give the wine a fuller, bolder flavor. At this time it is finally bottled and ready to drink. In order for a bottle to be labeled a ‘Bordeaux’ wine it must follow specifications. All steps of the wine making process must occur at the vineyard (from growing to grapes to bottling the wine), there can be no fertilizer or additional additives to the grapes and soil, grapes must grow from rainwater alone, and all Bordeaux wines must be a mix of different types of grapes/wines (ie a mix of cabernet sauvignon, merlot, etc.)

Chateau Luchey-Halde

Mommy and Daddy at the vineyards

Cabernet Sauvignon grapes

Dad found the cabernet sauvignon grapes!

wine making machine

where wine is tempered and made

barrels that the wine is stored in for a year to get the oaky flavor

wine tasting

Mom and Dad at the wine tasting following the vineyard tour

We spent our last night in Bordeaux walking through the hustling streets and exploring all of the shops. I introduced my parents to the gelateria Amorino—a gelato store that sculpts its gelato in the shape of flowers when they serve you. My friend Rose had told me about before it before I went to Paris and so I had some there and it was delicious and creamy, so I knew my parents had to try it too! We returned to the same restaurant for dinner and had an equally spectacular second night’s meal. It’s safe to say that Bordeaux was not only a culinary masterpiece, but also a comfortable and fun place to wander and touch base with family roots. 

Amorino: gelato carved into a flower

foot of a fountain

A Comedy of Errors

On Sunday, after we went up the Aguille du Midi, we took the cable cars back down and spent the remainder of the day/night walking around the charming town. However, like all good stories, our night ended with a comedy of errors. When we had first gotten to the apartment, I tried to connect to wifi but the access code was not working, and thus we could not connect. So, after dinner, we went towards a McDonalds (since Starbucks and McDonalds are the only two places you can rely on for free wifi in Europe) to leech off of their internet and access our emails. My dad decided to go get the car and pick us up while my mom and I finished using the internet. I figured it wouldn’t take him more than 20 minutes to get the car, pay for parking, and pick us up. But it did. After about half an hour, I started to get a bit concerned as to what was taking so long. Then it was 45 minutes. Now my mom was worried. We had rented a black audi and at one point I saw a black audi pulling up and I got so excited and started screaming “Daddy!!”….there was a woman in the car, it definitely was not my daddy. I left and went to a souvenir shop because we thought that obviously the second I walked away he would come. It did not help.  Now what was supposed to be a 20 minute trip had turned into an hour. Finally, my mom looked down the street and saw my dad running and screaming at us to get our attention. He was fine, he had not gotten mugged or had a heart attack, but clearly there was something wrong and the car was not with him.

We reached my dad as he was stressed and tired and he explained quickly what was going on. Apparently when he went to get the car he paid for the parking ticket in the automated machine, but the machine malfunctioned and never gave him his ticket back. But, in order to get out of the lot you need to insert your paid ticket. As a result, there was no way to drive out, and because it was late on a Sunday night, there was no one working at the lot. My dad had tried asking someone to use their phone, but no one would help. He tried using someone else’s ticket, but it came out void. Now he was in search for some way to contact the police to see if they could help. After giving up, he had come running to find us and tell us.

A cop car drove by us and we flagged them down, trying to explain the situation. Next problem: none of us speak French. The police had no idea what we were saying but eventually understood the gist after extensive hand gestures in an attempt to illustrate what had happened. We ran back to the parking lot (about a mile away) and met the police there. My dad, who is skeptical about everything in life, was certain they would never come and that they had no intention in helping us. But, to all of our relief, they eventually figured out exactly what we needed and were able to call someone to open the gates for us. I know the French are generally very condescending and unhelpful to Americans, but for now, I am taking back that stereotype and just being thankful for the extreme help and consideration the cops gave us.

But the comedy of errors does not stop there. I hadn’t done luggage in about 3 weeks (each load cost ~6 euros to do in St Genis) before my parents came because I anticipated doing it at our apartments. So, when we got back to the apartment Sunday night, I began my laundry. The first load I accidentally had on delicates, and then switched the cycle after an hour, making the washing cycle time in at almost 2 hours. For the next two cycles I figured out how to use the express cycle. We searched the apartment and contacted the owner and realized however that although there was a washer, there was no drier. So I hung my clothes. No big deal. The next morning I finished the rest of my laundry and hung the rest up to. The laundry from the night before was still sopping wet and we had to bring the drying rack inside because it was an overcast day. Fingers were crossed that everything would dry.

When we got back to the apartment Monday night, my laundry was still wet. Glen had told me about the time he went to Camaroon, just before his year abroad, when the driers at Yale were not working and he had to pack his damp clothes. Swiss air lost his luggage and by the time he got it back his clothes were moldy and had to be thrown away. We were flying out the next morning on an airline that I have been warned loses luggage frequently and I was positive that the same thing was going to happen to me. So, my mom and I spent hours up at night ironing all of my clothes in the hopes that they would dry. Success.

We got to the airport the next morning and went to check our luggage; we collectively had 4 bags to check between the three of us. My mom had purchased 4 bags, however we had not realized that regardless of the number of bags you purchase, each person only gets 20 kilos to check, and each additional kilo costs 20chf. We had over 85kgs. So there we were, in the middle of the airport, opening all of our bags and readjusting our entire luggage to put things into our backpacks and smaller bags. But we did it. We got three of the bags to be exactly 60kgs, and were able to check the smaller bag in for free. I have officially decided that I hate flying and I really dislike having this much luggage to carry. Trains beat planes any day. 

Chamonix-Mt. Blanc

On Sunday morning I said good-bye to Geneva and we left for Chamonix, a French town the foot of the Alps and Mt. Blanc. When we got there we were unable to reach the people we were renting our apartment from (France sleeps on Sundays…and most days for that matter) so ended up spending the first 2 hours wandering the small city and driving around in search for our apartment.


When we made it inside our apartment at last, we realized it was clear and sunny outside—the perfect day to visit Mt. Blanc. Mt Blanc is the highest peak in the Alps, measuring at 4,810 m, and is extremely icy and dangerous. AS a result, there are no cable cars or lifts up the mountain; the only way to get up Mt. Blanc is to hike/climb, which takes most people at least a day and is extremely treacherous. However, there is a lift that goes to the top of one of the other tall peaks adjacent to Mt. Blanc: Aguille du Midi standing at 3842 m. We took two cable cars and an elevator to get the peak. The summer temperature immediately dropped to below freezing. When we reached the top all of the sudden we were engulfed by clouds. It was terrible; we had come all the way up and could see nothing. But, within seconds, the sun was shining again, leaving behind a beautiful view. It was absolutely stunning: not only could you see the entire town below, but you could also see the entire mountain range from above and we were right next to the glacier that lines the Alps and Mt Blanc.

Aguille du Midi

view from atop Aguille du Midi

 

Atop Aguille du Midi

hikers on Aguille du Midi

Mom and I in front of the cable car we rode up

Dinner in Chamonix

view of the glacier from Chamonix

On Monday we continued our trek through the Alps and took a train up Montenver, another mountain in the chain, to visit the famous ice caves. When we got to the top we took a gondola down towards the caves, then had a 430 step climb to reach the entrance. I was super excited to climb the steps, but my parents were a bit hesitant. They both made it through the intense climb! I’m so proud of them!! And it was so worth the train ride, gondola, and climb. The caves were carved out on the side of the mountain and are part of the glacier ‘Mer de glace,’ which translates to sea of glass due to the wave-like appearance the sheets of glass give. The caves are set up with fluorescent lights that light up the ice cave in beautiful neon colors. There was even a block of ice carved into a polar bear in the middle of the cave!

Mer de Glace

Mom and Dad atop Montenver

The ice caves

Dad inside the ice caves

ice cave art--in this case, ice chairs

polar bear sculpted out of the glacier

mom and dad in the gondola

After the ice caves we took a short trip and drove to Annecy for a few hours. Funny story: while we were driving we hit a 2 euro toll. We were all out of coins though so my dad put in a 50 euro bill and proceeded to get 48 euros in change back. I have never seen so many coins come out of a toll machine at once.. it was like it never ended!

It was really nice since I had been there only 2 weeks ago so was able to show my parents around a bit and tell them where I had gone when I visited. For dinner we went to a restaurant on the river that was absolutely fantastic. My mom and I got this meal where that consisted of thinly sliced cuts of filet, beef, chicken, and bacon that we cooked ourselves on a hot stone at the table. It was so much fun! We then headed back to Chamonix to finish off our Alpine trip. 

mom and dad in Annecy

Mom and I cooking our meat on the stone!