Bordeaux du vin #3

Staying in a proper french chateau, and somehow getting the best room in it (top of the turret!) is only best enjoyed while surrounded by countryside and within walking distance to the best wineries.  These things don't jsut happen by chance you know - a lot of thought goes into serendipity!

One of the oldest chateaux (another valuable lesson learned - in wine country a chateau is a winerey and not necessarily a castle, although some of them sure look like one) was merely across the field, turn left, walk 20 yards and down the lane. Here we found Figeac wine, toured their still family owned enterprise and tasted a 2003 vintage almost solely cabernet sauvignon, a rarity here but necessary due to the chateau's rare, gravelly soil. 

We then ventured further afield, and chose to walk to the village of St. Emilion, about 5 km away along winding roads and wine fields.  We had a vague idea of direction and could occasionally see the village church spire to adjust our trajectory. 

It was one of those exquisite travel walks one will forever have vaulted away in the memory banks. The sun was hot, the sky blue, the birds sang and the grapes grew.  (I'm quite sure that drinking all this red wine is improving my vocabulary, if not my flow)

The village is charming, although one big tourist draw.  Beautiful houses and cottages along winding lanes, lined with pink and red geraniums, and shops either selling wine, pastries, or souvenirs.  And of course you could get drunk if you had just a sip for every restarant and cafe you found here.

But one thing we did not reckon  on - it's unique history.  St. Emilion himself came here from having lived a rich life, and lived in a cave for the 16 or so years of his life, healing, hearing confession and helping the ladies overcome their difficulties in conceiving.  Apparently if a woman who wanted a child sat on a stone seat that had been carved in the cave, she woudl become pregnant within the year.  Yeah right.

The chapel built to accomodate the many pilgrims that came here was later handed over to a cooper.  The fires required to curve wood that would become barrels created smoke and ash that covered the walls and ceiling of the place, and it was only hundreds of years later when the ceilings were cleaned with a bit of water to reveal the holy paintings underneath.  It was because of the soot that the paintings were saved - everywhere else they were lost.  So the next time someone thinks someone taking over a space  for a new purpose means the place is being defiled, I will remember to cite this example.

But the real gem was the church that was dug deep into the hill, and supports an enormous spire built to provide a guide to pilgrims coming from all over.  The limestone has been weakened by rising damp (and sadly almost all the paintings are gone due to the precious commodity of salt petre in an age when that was used to make dynamite and the walls were gradually scraped clean) but Unesco has chosen to support it as a truly special historical site. 

So the wine we bought, the macaroons we tasted (the best anywhere!), the lovely walk home we took, the fancy dinner we ate, and the sunset we watched from our turret room, were all placed in the context of what living in a castle in a place like St. Emilion must have been like such a long time ago.