A steady, chilling rain welcomed us to Monday. Through the downpour, like a bunch of pack mules, we hauled our luggage (now weighted down with bottles of wine) five blocks to the bus.
On the drive to Rochecorbon, we experienced a French travel stop, a road warrior oasis with a wide variety of food. Men thought nothing of the closed bathroom and wandered into the ladies room seemingly without hesitation. With floor to ceiling stalls both genders took care of business in a civilized manner.
Several hours later we caught sight of our accommodations for the next two nights, Les Haute Roches, a hotel where rooms are built into the limestone walls. While this appears unique, we noticed a number of residences with similar configurations--windows with a view of the Loire River starring out from limestone cliffs.
After depositing our luggage, it was back on the bus for a short ride to Domaine Bourillon-Dorleans. OMG! What a special place.
Frederick Bourillion greeted us, provided a little history of the winery and turned us over to Richard Bayon (speaker of seven languages) for a tour of the wine caves. This tour was much different than the Meursault caves, not much mention of wine storage in the caves, but instead a visual feast of a sculptor's interpretation of evolution carved into the cave walls.
As with the Bourillon winery, the limestone walls lend themselves to artistic impression. In this case a stonemason is re-creating a village to show what life was like years ago.
Yeah, that was cool, but nothing compared to what awaited us upon return to the tasting room. The arrangements were for a tasting of four wines. (I should note here, that chenin blanc is the only grape that can be grown in Vouvray). Those four wines were outstanding and the din from the crowd arose with each bottle served. "But wait", said Monseuir Borrilion, "let's try this one!" And we did through four additional wines. The winemaker's 25 year old son assisted in the pouring and the ladies swooned. A cougar growl was heard from more than one corner of the room.
A boisterous crowd returned to the hotel and enjoyed more wine while touring each unique guestroom since our group occupied the entire hotel.
Tuesday the travelers entered another world with a tour of Chateau de Chenonceau built starting in the 11th century. We donned iPods for the audio tour and entered into the realm of French royalty. And what a realm it was. We learned more about mistresses and bastardized children than we ever needed to know. Along with the colorful history we drooled over beautiful gardens.
The village of Montrichard served as the site for lunch. Richard The Lionhearted erected a fort here during the Crusades, a portion of which still overlooks the village. Les Tuffeaux Brasserie was outstanding. We were the only English speakers there, but Janice got us through.
The final stop for the day was a mushroom cave, another jaw-dropping experience. Seems like we are spending as much time underground as we are on the surface. Anyway, our guide showed us all the different kinds of mushrooms grown in the perfect environment in the limestone caves. And tasting the mushrooms was a treat--full of flavor and with a firm texture. Only six places in France produce mushrooms this way so the market is mostly high end restaurants.
During the tour our group suffered the first causulty of the trip when Pete bumped his head on the low ceiling. A battle scar earned.
Our day ended with a sumptuous wine maker dinner featuring Eola Hills wine and local cuisine. I've never had tartare anything but dove right into the veal tartare. Wow! A great night with Frederick, his son and Richard as our guests. Richard concluded the evening by thanking everyone for visiting and brought a tear to everyone's eye when he expressed his appreciation for America, saying the French people will never forget what happened at Normandy.
One observation: as we've driven through the small villages, it seems every house has a garden. They are rototilled and many already have lettuce growing and a number boast row covers.
No comments:
Post a Comment