Wine FTW

A story about chairs and Czech Riesling.

The girl walked up, cool as a cucumber, and laid down in front of me.  

Our group had just arrived at Sonberk Winery, an impressive 40-hectare estate in the South Moravian region of the Czech Republic.

We stepped off the bus and spread out across the front lawn, overlooked by a large, architect-designed tasting room. Phones were whipped out of pockets to capture the moment. Indeed, the view from the lawn across the vineyards is so stunning that it made the front cover of Jean-Baptiste Ancelot's book Wine Explorers*.

Hunting around for a different angle (who wants to take the same picture as everyone else?), I spied a large, irregularly-shaped plaque set on the grass. Rambling sentences comprised of esoteric terms adorned it: Universe Farms was the title of the clumsy English translation. I read it and was none the wiser. Was this perhaps a tribute to a leftfield agricultural method practiced at Sonberk?  

“Eames bench of the parallel world” - something had certainly been lost in translation. Was there perhaps a religious significance? Could there be someone - or something - buried beneath the plaque?

As I mused, along came one of our group. She promptly laid down on the plaque and started taking pictures of the vineyards before her. I was taken aback: wasn't this potentianlly - well, disrespectful? Reverie broken and feeling indignant, I stepped away and left her to it, resolved to discover if some inappropriate behaviour had occurred.

That evening, I googled Universe Farms and went straight down a rabbit hole. Click through on the link and you'll see what I mean. It's trippy. For reasons I couldn't begin to fathom, Sonberk Winery had allowed Eames Demetrios (grandson of legendary American husband-and-wife design team Charles and Ray Eames, no less) to uh, create a Universe Farm on their property.

Say what?

To put it simply (sort of), self-styled Geographer-at-Large Eames Demetrios is the creator of Kcymaerxthaere, an alternative, parallel universe coexisting with our world. For the past decade he has been travelling around our linear world installing markers and historic sites that honour events from this parallel world. Eames is “on a journey to add to the imprecision of the world,” and he's been busy conjuring up an alternative universe and creating stories.

“I install markers, forms, shapes and installations to create sites,” he says. According to the official Kcymaerxthaere website, “142.5 installations have been installed in 30 linear countries. The .5 refers to an installation planned for the Moon...”

I've popped the map of Kcymaerxthaere below for your reference.  

Righty-ho, then.

The next day I tasted my way through flights of wine samples submitted for the 2020 Concours Mondial de Bruxelles, held in the city of Brno (as judges, we had been taken to Sonberk - the name means sunny mountain - as part of our programme). A discrete but friendly Czech chap on my tasting panel turned out to be none other than Sonberk co-founder Tibor Nyitray.

How perfect was this? The Universe was obviously speaking to me. I seized my opportunity: when we'd finished tasting I asked him if he'd sit down with me to answer my questions about life, the Universe Farms and everything. Here's what I gleaned.

Back in 2003, Tibor and his partners formed a consortium to create the best Czech winery. They went large, investing €4m in the project which assembled 40 hectares of vineyards from a dozen previous owners to create one single area of vines located 10 km north of the Pálava hills.

Cue 28 ha of new vines planted, a state-of-the-art winery and tasting room designed by leading Czech architect Josef Pleskot, and the hiring of Oldrich Drapal, one of Moravia's most innovative young winemakers.  

Their investment started to pay dividends in 2010 when Sonberk's Rhine Riesling 2008 won a Regional Trophy in the Decanter World Wine Awards. In 2017, not one but two DWWA Platinum medals went to wines from Sonberk (Pálava 2015 and Riesling 2014), and the 2020 results were equally impressive, as you can see:

Sonberk has an annual production of around 130,000 bottles, most of which are sold on the domestic market, and judging by the praise and plaudits, the stated ambition of creating a leading Czech winery has been fulfilled. I asked Tibor about plans for the next five years.

“The goal is to achieve such success regularly. In the Czech market we're well established, we combine wine with culture so we host a lot of cultural events at the estate. We're trying to persuade people to come and visit our winery and create beautiful memories in this way. The big goal is to get into the US market and increase the ratio of our exports - we export only about 5%, but we're looking for more. And of course, we want to keep the quality as high as possible.”

What's the secret of Sonberk's success and your Platinum medal-winning Riesling?

“We have an exceptional terroir for white wines, south/south-west exposure and poor soils,  mainly loess. In the vineyards we work in the most eco-friendly way possible, the harvesting was only done by hand until this year. We strictly reduce the yield per single vine to 1.5 kg of fruit. For the Riesling Noble Rot, about 40% of the grapes were botrytised and picked on the last three days of that year's harvest. We vinified them mainly in stainless steel, with a few weeks in 30 HL oak vats, just to give the wine some air. We made 8,000 bottles, the 2017 vintage was exceptional.”

We chatted about the quotation I had spotted on an oak vat in the barrel cellar -  quod hodie non est, cras erit - which roughly translates as “if not today, then tomorrow” - apparently a saying favoured by winemaker Oldrich Drapal.

And what about the Universe Farm on the front lawn?

Tibor was less forthcoming about this, but after some probing, I got an explanation. The Sonberk tasting room features some fancy furniture, including some DKR wire chairs (Tibor’s leaning on one in the photo above) designed by (yup) Charles and Ray Eames, available through Swiss company Vitra.

While on a visit to the Czech Republic, Eames Demetrios was invited to Sonberk by the Vitra folks. Favourably impressed by what he saw, he decided he'd like to create a Universe Farm there: Sonberk's marketing director approved, the investors gave it the green light... and the rest is history.

Having a Universe Farm on your estate certainly creates a talking point, if nothing else. I was fascinated to have learned about the Kcymaerxthaere project, and if you've got some time to spare and an enquiring mind, you can identify the sites nearest to you (and read the wacky stories woven around them) by consulting this page.

Me? I've resolved to be a bit less judgemental, and to stay curious.  

Did you know that Grenache used to be one of the world's most-planted grape varieties? Me neither.

I learned this from Jancis Robinson's recent piece about the evolution of grape varieties. Inspired by a study about wine grape statistics* by Kym Anderson and Signe Nelgen of Adelaide university, her article pointed out that the variety known as Garnacha Tinta in its native Spain – or Grenache in France - has lost considerable ground since 1990, when it was the world’s second most-planted variety.

In 2016, it fell to seventh place*, and to add insult to injury, Kym Anderson excludes Grenache from his small group of “premium” (high quality) grape varieties in his report.

However, Jancis counters that Grenache “is now experiencing a re-evaluation by growers and quality-conscious consumers and is on the verge of being considered fashionable thanks to some great examples from the southern Rhône, Spain, South Africa and Australia.”

Buoyed up by her words, I went off to judge at the eighth edition of the Grenaches du Monde competition, held in Montpellier (my home town) from September 15th-16th, 2020. Over two days of blind tasting, 832 wines (pure Grenache or Grenache-dominant blends)  were assessed by 68 tasters.

That’s me in the green dress, pondering one of the 54 wines (from Sardinia, Roussillon, Terra Alta, Catalunya, Languedoc and Montsant) scored by my panel.

Or maybe I was triggered by the Terra Alta wines and casting my mind back to 2018, when Garnacha’s Spanish heartland Terra Alta hosted the 6th edition of the Grenaches du Monde competition and we got to visit the amazing Gandesa cooperative winery, designed by César Martinelli.  

This year, competition entries came from just five countries, namely France, Italy, Spain, USA and South Africa. The Grenaches du Monde site allows the visitor to search for winning wines from other countries (Australia, Greece, Lebanon, Macedonia) but no doubt the pandemic didn't help in terms of driving entries or shipping samples.

I feel it's a shame to have lost this diversity, which is part of the interest when you’re a judge. Back in 2013 , the very first Grenaches du Monde competition in Perpignan was particularly memorable: I got to taste some outstanding Grenache wines from Australian wineries Seppeltsfield and Kilikanoon and hear an inspiring talk from brand ambassador Nathan Waks.  

But I digress.

This year, 260 medals were awarded (you can find all the results here). For what it's worth (the scoring system was... generous, to say the least), there were 188 gold medals and 72 silver. Spain carried off 125 medals, France 78 (Roussillon shone with a total of 54 medals, 31 for dry wines, 23 for fortified), Italy 56 and... the United States, 1.

This singular American triumph was a gold medal given to Lodi's Bokisch Vineyards for their Garnacha, a 95% Garnacha, 5% Graciano blend).

Curious, I went online and learned that its creators Markus and Liz Bokisch have been growing Spanish varietals in California since the early 2000s (apparently they began by directly importing budwood from selected Spanish vineyards).

I like odd details like this.

As it happens, Bokisch was one of only two American participants in this year's Grenache du Monde competition, so I'm pleased for them that their efforts paid off.

And I’m hoping that next year we'll see a return to diversity, with a few more entrants from the USA, Australia, South Africa and the like.

*”Covering 192,455 hectares of vines, Grenache ranks seventh among the most planted grape varieties in the world. Emblematic of Mediterranean countries, it ranks third in Europe (behind Tempranillo and Merlot) with 178,628 hectares. France, Spain and Italy are the top three producing countries: France accounts for 90,000 hectares, i.e. about 50% of the world's Grenache. Spain accounts for 70,000 ha (41% of the world’s Grenache), and Italy has 6,000 ha so 3.6 %.”

Source: CIVR / Concours Grenaches du Monde. 

Back in 1985 when I was working in the centre of Paris, I was a regular at Café Costes. A decidedly upmarket destination designed by Philippe Starck that had opened the year before, it was THE place to see and be seen. I loved going there because you got a LOT of hip hanging out and cool points for the price of an espresso coffee.

Fast forward to 2020 and I'm checking out Plage Palace, the latest Costes project and Languedoc’s only 5 star hotel with direct acces to the beach. It's in an unlikely location between the family-friendly seaside resorts of Carnon and Palavas-les-Flots, neither of which are remotely chic, but never mind.

The hotel is tucked away up a non-descript street away from the hustle and bustle, hidden behind high walls and greenery (blink and you could almost miss it). Valet parking takes care of the car, a porter whisks the luggage away and as you walk the short distance to the door, a heady, sexy blend of jasmin and white lily wafts in the air: this is the Costes signature fragrance, created by French perfumer Olivia Giacobetti. A hotel with its very own smell: how chic is that?

One space opens onto another, separated by sliding doors that create the illusion of an endless vista. From the garden we drift effortlessly into the vast lobby, with its bar and lounge areas decorated by star architect and Starck protégé Imaad Rahmouni. Some rather smart Knoll furniture, fabrics by Pierre Frey, it's pleasantly chic and ever-so-slightly quirky.

The lobby leads directly out into the restaurant dining area, which is separated from the sand dunes by some strategically-placed foliage and simple wood-and-wire fencing. Not so much chi-chi as casual chic.

Once outside, we turn round and finally get to admire the structure of this unobtrusive building. Two stories of dazzling white cubes form a long curve facing the pale gold sand. From the balcony of our first-floor room I can gaze down on the outdoor jacuzzi (part of the spa), then the 27-metre outdoor swimming pool (heated as needs be), and beyond that, the private beach marked by twin cocktail bars and dottled with creamy white sun loungers and parasols.

The staff are young, attractive and attentive, the vibe is upmarket but playful - this is the  seaside in summer, after all – and the prices are what you'd expect from a luxury boutique hotel (more about this later).

Our room is light, bright and spacious. The bathroom is essentially a large box of simple white wood set at an angle within the room, housing a magnificent free-standing white bathtub, a rain forest shower, high-end fittings and (joy) more of that yummy signature fragrance translated into generous-sized body care products.

A Nespresso machine and Mariage Frères tea bags sit quietly in a cupboard, while the minibar chills a selection of complimentary soft drinks.

Lunch happens outside on a white marble table (no cloth), under a dove-grey parasol: dark blue water glasses create a pretty contrast. The food is relatively simple but well executed, and we wash it down with a frosty bottle of Puech Haut rosé.

Let’s be honest: you don't really come here for daring wine choices, leftfield cuisine or a wallet-friendly meal (check the menu and prices here). Cocktails are €12 - €14. An organic carrot juice starter (the cheapest item on the lunch menu) will set you back €10, while lobster and fries is an eye-watering €46.

The children's menu burger and fries is a cheeky €22 (I wouldn't come here with kids but there were a fair number of them trotting around when we visited).

That said, everything we ordered was tasty, carefully prepared and thoughtfully presented (I was enjoying myself so much that I didn’t really take any pictures except the one below), which doesn’t really do the food justice). Our waiter was charm personfied and spoke excellent English.

All things considered, Plage Palace met our expectations.

As for the prices, well, sometimes you want to splurge, and this would be just the place to scratch that itch. Jean-Louis and Guy Costes have bought their unique brand of Parisian decadence to Languedoc, and it was delightful to push to boat out. 

Rooms start from €300 for two people for a night off-season in a 22m2 garden-facing room with balcony (but no sea views), but there’s no need to shell out for a room if you just want to experience the Costes brothers’ brand of luxury: non-residents can book a table at the restaurant, a sun lounger on the beach (€25 for a day) or a treatment in the health spa (only the swimming pool is out of bounds to outsiders).

And Plage Palace is open year-round, making it an ideal destination for some post-summer, rentrée-time indulgence or a winter treat. 

On mindfulness, wine tasting and the Concours Mondial de Bruxelles

Years ago, I was a junior account handler in a London ad agency. Working as a team, we were encouraged to “interrogate the product” in order to develop the advertising strategy. This meant examining the product from every possible angle, identifying qualities and attributes that could make it different, desirable and marketable.

It wasn't always glamorous. I worked on the Toilet Duck and Kotex panty liner accounts, amongst others. For the latter, being IFW (Individually Folded and Wrapped) is a consumer benefit but if other brands offer this, it's not a USP (Unique Selling Point). And when it comes to toilet cleaners, bowl cling is a thing, but it's pretty common across the category.  

But it was great training, and recently, something happened that took me back to those days.

Fast forward 30-odd years to 2016. I was working in wine PR and marketing and feeling stressed out. Some personal and professional issues were challenging and I needed to find some tools to help me move forward.

So I signed up for a dose of mindfulness.

MBSR (Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction – the official name of the course I took) consisted of eight weeks of two-hour sessions with a group of 18 fellow stressers – sorry, students - plus many hours of meditation homework.

Every Tuesday afternoon, I'd join the other participants in a yoga studio where we'd sit in a circle on slightly smelly mats and be guided through the method by our teacher-guru Beatrix (a very nice woman for whom I have great admiration). It might sound like a bit of a downer-fest but believe me, it wasn't.

One of the very first exercises we did blew my mind.

Beatrix walked round the room with a jar of raisins. Each student took one and was invited to examine it, slowly and carefully, in the greatest possible detail.

I interrogated my raisin.

First, I explored every wrinkle and fold with my eyes. Then, gently raising my raisin to my mouth, I probed it tentatively with my lips. I sniffed (was there a faint smell?), then popped the small brown fruit onto my tongue and savoured it thoughtfully, feeling its semi-firm texture give against my gums and palate, tongue and teeth.

Next, I tried to focus on the flavour. Could I pinpoint it? There were notes of dark, dried fruit, sun-ripened grapes, something figgy, perhaps? And a slightly jammy consistency. But what else?

I rolled my raisin round my mouth, logging its size, shape, texture, flavour. We were asked to note what came to mind (for me, flap jack) and name our thoughts. We were encouraged to be aware, in minute detail, of the experience. We were mindful.

Wow. All that from a raisin. Can you imagine?

As experiences go, it was deeply sensual in the literal sense. It was also very powerful because it was my first taste of paying deep attention, shifting my thoughts and becoming aware of them instead of just living inside them. MBSR heightened my awareness of what was going on in my head, and how I could get some perspective on it. I found it valuable, and I'd recommend the course to anyone who feels the need to get some calm back into their life, working from the inside out.

It wasn't just about eating raisins, obviously. We learned to scan our bodies, respond rather than react, identify our thoughts and just sit with them (harder than it sounds), and yes, meditate.  

As I went through the MBSR course, I saw parallels with wine tasting. Readers who work in the wine sector will know that as tasters, we analyse and evaluate wine according to strict criteria.

People who have taken the WSET courses will be familiar with the Systematic Approach to Tasting, based around appearance, nose, palate and conclusion. Each aspect of a wine is carefully considered, step by step, to build an overall appreciation. Wine competitions have various different ways of judging and scoring their entries but essentially it’s a formalised process of (hopefully objective) observation and evalution.

As I sat on my yoga mat and meditated on my dried grape, it all started to make sense.  

I could hardly wait to get back to a formal wine tasting environment. I'd judged at several wine competitions (five years with the Concours Mondial de Bruxelles, plus stints at the IWC, Mundus Vini and various Languedoc competitions and tasting sessions), but now I was itching to bring my new-found awareness into play.

So the 2017 Concours Mondial de Bruxelles competition in Valladolid (Spain) was a whole new ball game for me.

I was part of a jury of six (my panel members were Swiss, French, Romanian and Spanish), judging 153 wines over three morning sessions. We sat in a vast exhibition hall with 320 others (essentially journalists, buyers, oenologists and sommeliers), working our way through a total of 9080 wines from 50 countries.

My table judged wines from Spain (Galicia, Valencia, Ribera del Duero), France (Champagne, Bordeaux, Côtes du Rhône and Languedoc-Roussillon), Italy (Sicily), Portugal (Dão), Greece and Romania.

We swirled, sniffed, sipped and spat our way through our samples, ticking boxes on the tasting sheets and deciding whether to award Silver, Gold or Grand Gold medals (or none). It takes a fair bit of concentration but if you bring the mindfulness into play, it becomes a really interesting exercise and I found myself tackling my tasting with renewed enthusiasm.

So I was very happy to judge again at CMB this year, for several reasons: it's a great opportunity to develop your tasting skills and broaden your experience, and build your business contacts.

But ultimately, I got the biggest kick from finding a way to apply the mindfulness tool that took tasting to a whole new level.

And I will never look at a raisin in the same way again.  

A unique way to get up close and personal with wine

I got lucky: I got an invitation to go on a wine safari. Love that word, safari. I had visions of thwacking through thickets and straddling streams, pursuing my prey and bagging bunches of wild uh...  grapes. In real life I'm not much of a hunter, more of a gatherer, but the concept appealed so I said yes.

The safari in question was organised by Domaine Riberach. Situated in the very small village of Bélesta (population 214, in the Roussillon region of southern France), Riberach shows what can be done with a disused wine cooperative, a lot of vision, a shedload of elbow grease and some serious investment.

It's a great illustration of teamwork, too. Architect-partners Luc Richard and Karin Pühringer, Jean-Michel Mailloles (a local winegrower), oenologists Patrick Rodrigues and Guilhem Soulignac and Austrian sommelier Moritz Herzog have worked together to create a noteworthy example of wine tourism.

I'd heard plenty about the project (it opened in 2010) and was keen to see it for myself, so the safari seemed like the perfect opportunity. From my base in Montpellier it was a couple of hours' drive. For visitors from further afield, options include flying into Perpignan (30 km east of Bélesta) and picking up a hire car.

When I pulled up outside, I was very taken by the facade. Built in 1925, its charm was intact. So far, so authentic. Inside, a transformation has been worked. A great many of the original features have been carefully retained. Thoughtfully-placed windows allow visitors to gaze down into the working winery from the calm of the hotel space.

Ancient stone and concrete have been combined with contemporary metal, wood, slate and leather to transform an industrial space into a chic retreat with a focus on leisure and pleasure.

We were shown to our rooms, some of which were once concrete wine vats, meaning that the formerly functional has become a source of fascination (a neat trick, and a highly original proposition for wine-loving tourists). The complementary half bottle of Riberach's Synthèse was a nice touch.

With a couple of hours to kill before dinner, I took a look around. Visiting in October meant it was too cold to test the egg-shaped outdoor swimming pool but I ventured down to the basement to the spa which has been carved out of five concrete wine tanks. Hammam-like in look and feel, it's an attractive, intimate space where guests can unwind and enjoy a massage or beauty treatment.

Suitably relaxed and refreshed, it was time to dine. The restaurant (named La Coopérative) occupies the vast, airy space in the centre of the complex, where the wine presses once stood. A 7 metre-high window looks onto the patio and terraced gardens planted with olive trees, mimosa, rosemary and vines.

As you might expect, Bocuse d'Or France winner and Michelin-starred chef Laurent Lemal creates very classy cuisine. Our group had a wonderful dinner - the local oysters from Leucate served with Domaine des Soulanes's Kaya (a Grenache Gris/Grenache Blanc/Carignan Blanc blend) were a highlight - with wines expertly selected and served by sommelier Max Erpelding. Worth noting: almost all wines are available by the glass including Riberach's very first vintage (2006).  

After a restorative night's sleep and an excellent breakfast (the buffet was heaving with top-quality breakfast pastries, bread, biscuits and home-made jams), it was time to climb into the Riberach Land Rover with Luc Richard at the wheel.

First stop was the Pic d'Aubeil, a vantage point from where we took our bearings. The Riberach complex is situated midway up a valley beneath the medieval chateau of Bélesta. The village lies between the Agly and Têt valleys, with surrounding hillsides rising to 400 metres. We could make out the Pyrenees and the Canigou peak on one side, and the Corbières, Bugarach and the Mediterreanean (just) on the other.

Luc briefed our group on the area's history (Bélesta was once the border between the Catalan and French kingdoms) as we drove on to the pre-Roman chapel of St Barthélémy de Jonquerolles and then the dolmen of Moli del Vent, estimated to date back to -2500 BC. 

After stepping back in time, we moved forward into the vineyards.

Here, we had an explanation of the various soil types (schist, sandstone, limestone and granite) on which Riberach's 10 hectares of vines are planted, the altitude effect (their plots are at 250 - 400 metres) and the effect of these different terroirs on the resulting wines.

At midday we paused in a shady spot by a stream for a snack of charcuterie, cheese and a welcome glass of wine (Riberach’s rouge N° 12 is a great quaffer).

Then, suitably restored, we headed back to the village for a BBQ and tasting with Luc and his colleagues.

There  was something deeply satisfying about sampling the wines outdoors, right after walking in the vineyards in which they originated. Luc served them with simply grilled, fresh local produce which he cooked himself with evident pleasure.

The day's activities ended with a look at the winery where the Riberach team makes around 40,000 bottles per year (the fibreglass tanks installed within the original concrete tanks are an unusual feature). 

Then to finsh, we popped into the wine shop and tasting room where Riberach wines are sold along with those of around 30 neighbouring organic, biodynamic or natural growers, all at cellar-door prices.    

We tasted our way throught the playfully-named Riberach range (four reds, three whites) of Thèse, Antithèse, Hypothèse, Synthèse, Parenthèse... and yes, Fouthèse (a French play on words: the name sounds like foutaise, meaning “nonsense”).

Grape-wise, Riberach grows Grenache Noir, Syrah and old vine Carignan Noir for the reds, and Maccabeu, Grenache Gris, Carignan Gris and Carignan Blanc for the whites. My personal favourite was Hypothèse Blanche, a varietal wine made from Carignan Gris and remarkable for its refreshing, citrus-fruit profile as well as its rarity (apparently there are only 60 hectares of this grape variety left in the whole of France, of which one hectare is at Riberach), but all are well worth tasting.

Wine Safari at Riberach

Saturday mornings from June to September. Vineyard tours by Land Rover with commentary on vine development and harvest. Picnic (Catalan charcuterie, local cheese, fresh seasonal fruit, Riberach wines). BBQ and grilled snails (cargolade) available on request. The safari ends with a guided tasting in the Riberach N'Co wine shop. Cost: 75€/per person with picnic, transport, guide, visit and drinks included. Safari with BBQ lunch (weather and numbers permitting): 90€/per person; cargolade 110€/per person. Safari groups are minimum 4, maximum 8 (12 on request). Tours are conducted in French, English, German and Spanish.

Domaine Riberach re-opens after its annual winter break on

Saturday April 1st, 2017.

Tel. +33 (0)4 68 50 30 10

Discovering the Douro by rail

Dateline August 2016. I had a week's holiday, all to myself. Douro valley wine touring appealed big time, but as a solo traveller I had zero desire to hire a car, navigate, hunt for petrol stations. Fiddling with the GPS is not my forte. Instead, I figured I'd spend my money on rail travel, nice hotels and great wine.

I wanted to take the train up the valley, but I was worried about how it would work. Would I be able to explain what ticket I wanted to buy, or understand what anyone told me about times/platforms/seat numbers? I felt inadequately armed with one phrase (learned from a CD borrowed in haste from the library): Lamento, falo muito pouco Português.

I hunted online for timetables, maps, any indication of where hotels and wineries might be in relation to train stations, and how I would get from one to the next. What I really wanted was a map that showed the train line, the wineries I fancied visiting, and a selection of classy yet value-for-money hotels suitable for single women (dream on).

Questions arose: did it matter what side of the river I was on? Is Régua the same place as Peso de Régua? (answer: it is). Was a wine hotel “in” Régua actually in town, or up a hillside in the middle of (comparatively) nowhere? So many questions, so much fretting. In the end I trusted a couple of recommendations from my friends at Catavino*, and set off, slightly apprehensive but excited.  

Guess what? It all worked out like a dream. Honestly.

My voyage of Douro discovery comprised of three stops – at Régua, Pinhão and Pocinho – effectively taking me from one end of the line to the other, travellng through the three areas of Baixa Douro, Cima Corgo and Douro Superior.

Régua

From Porto to Régua is very straight forward. No allocated seats, no reservations, you can just rock up and buy a ticket for one of the local trains leaving regularly from São Bento station. It takes a couple of hours to get to Régua, and it makes sense to sit on the right hand side of the train for the river views. The first hour of the journey is rather unremarkable but the remainder is good, and it just gets better as you head further up the valley. This first part of my trip cost me less than 10 euros. I was relieved to find that Portugal's railway employees tend to speak pretty good English. Hurrah!

Downtown Régua is rather disappointing, being low on shade and charm. However, Castas & Pratos offers upmarket dining in a renovated railway building with views of the tracks (fun if the historic steam train pulls in – more of this later), air con, a good wine selection and carefully-prepared cuisine.

It's not cheap: there's a cover charge of €2,65 (but you get as much top quality bread, olive oil and balsamic vinegar as you can eat), they charge for water (€1,90), but wine by the glass is very reasonable (€4,20 for a refreshing glass of Quinta do Covela's Arinto vinho verde). Starters €8 – 10, main courses €20 – 30. I gobbled up some very tasty poached egg with morilles and fois gras sauce, followed by sea scallops with fennel purée and trout caviar.

Suitably restored, I headed for my accommodation at Quinta do Vallado. Recommended as somewhere I'd feel comfortable as a single woman, it totally hit the spot; the staff were unfailingly kind and attentive. It's located up a dusty road (and a rather steep hill) about 3 km out of town, so you need to take a taxi from the station (€6 euros).

It boasts a rose garden, vegetable plots, and a pool surrounded by soft green grass and lime trees, looking onto terraced vineyards across the river Corgo. Plenty of space and calm for thoughtful musing. Cool, comfortable lounge with free Nespresso coffee, grapes, small pastries, hundreds of wine books and magazines (I devoured four issues of Wine Spectator in 24 hours), magnificent breakfast buffet complete with chia seeds.

Nice touches: free glass of white port on arrival, free post-dinner port. Free winery tour and tasting for hotel guests. Young, super-competent tour guide (assistant winemaker) with near-perfect English, seven well-made wines including their Riserva Field Blend (containing no less than 40 varieties, thank you very much). When I checked out, dragging my heavy bag (those wine bottles weigh a ton), a member of the hotel staff kindly drove me down to the station. Bless you.

Things to do in Régua

Visit the Museo do Douro: €6 entry fee includes a glass of Port on their terrace overlooking the river. Basic information about the Douro valley and the Port industry. Useful as a primer if you have zero knowledge of the area, so a good place to start, but if you work in wine, you'll find it fairly pedestrian.

Ride (or just admire) the Douro valley steam train. Interesting to see, but way more expensive (and tourist-filled) than I'd imagined. I was lucky enough to be at the station to catch my next (ordinary) train up the valley just as the steam train was preparing to leave, so I got to see it up close. I clambered on, had a good look and got off again, quite satisfied, while hundreds of tourists took photos of themselves standing on the platform beside it, along with some local musicians dressed in period costume.

Bottom line? It's fascinating to see and has a certain charm, but it only runs on certain days of the week, at certain times of the year (see link above for details). It's also chock-full of folks speaking English and (to my mind) it's rather expensive: the cheapest ticket is the Régua-Tua return journey, which costs €37 for adults and €17 for children. Compare this to riding the regular train from Régua to Pinhão (costs only €2,80, takes 30 minutes). Hell, the entire trip from Porto to the end of the line at Pocinho only costs €13,30 (one way).

Take a river trip. In fact, although you can take river trips from Régua, it didn't inspire me (it's just not that pretty) and when I asked the locals, they told me I'd do better to wait until further up the river, from Pinhão. I'm pretty sure they were right. Read more below.

Pinhão

After a half hour ride from Régua, I stepped off the train in Pinhão to find tourists taking photos of the station's blue-and-yellow tiles (this must be one of the Douro's valley's most photographed spots: you'll probably want to take pics too. I did).

I'd booked to stay at Quinta de la Rosa, because it has great wines and some excellent value-for-money accommodation. It's 2 km up a steep hill out of town, so don't even think of walking: a taxi only costs €5 and there are plenty right outside the station. Once you've checked in and dumped your bags, it's an easy stroll back down to enjoy what the town has to offer.

At Quinta de la Rosa, it's all about the views. All rooms look down onto the Douro, as does the dining terrace, the tasting room and the swimming pool. It’s fairly minimal but comfortable, with a friendly atmosphere (the Bergqvist family owners are sometimes in occupation). My simply furnished, super-cute twin-bedded room cost €90/night.

The fixed menu, three-course dinner costs €25 including the Quinta's wine (white, red, rosé and Port – very generous, with older vintages sometimes open) and is great value. The cuisine is local (my first time eating pig cheeks, and quite possibly my last, but everything else was excellent).

Visitors get a free winery visit and tasting, which is a nice touch. There's a small swimming pool perched above the river, with perfect views down onto the train tracks: I watched the steam train go by and the firefighting planes swooping up the river to collect water (Portugal was battling summer wild fires when I visited). Early one morning I borrowed a yoga mat and stretched beside the pool, meditating on the views across the river: bliss.  

What to do

Take a river trip in a rabelo (traditional wooden boat) with Magnifico Douro: €10/hour, €20/two hours including a chance to jump overboard and swim mid-stream in the Douro (slightly intimidating if you're not a strong swimmer, but a total thrill: put it on your bucket list).

Enjoy afternoon tea or a cheeky white port and tonic at the Vintage House hotel (you can walk right in from the station). Totally revamped in 2016 by Taylor Fladgate (owners of the Yeatman Hotel in Porto). International, well-heeled clientele. A swanky address, in marked contrast with the run-down buildings further up the street.

Avoid the more touristy options on the river front and eat at Cafe do Rio (dish of the day: bacalhau in breadcrumbs, swimming in olive oil, with creamy mashed potato: €12).  

Taste at Quinta do Bomfim, an easy five-minute walk from the station. Opened in May 2015, it has a vast, light and airy tasting room, a terrace with river views, a shop and informative photo displays charting the history of the Symington family empire (27 vineyards in the Douro, owners of Warre's, Dow's, Graham's....).

Friendly, savvy young staff will guide you through the well-priced list of wines by the glass (two white Ports, five tawnys – 10-, 20-, 30, 40-year-old and a 1972, three rubys, seven bottle-aged Ports including Vintage Port of the Month, three Douro DOC wines white/red - my favourite was the Prats and Symington Post Scriptum 2015 – elegant, subtle, harmonious €14,50 a bottle ). There's a long list of wines by the bottle, and plates of cheese and bread, ham, or almonds and chocolate for €10. Nicely done.

Pocinho

Two days later, I boarded the train again and headed roughly 12 km further up the river into Douro Superior territory. I rode right to the end of the train line, and I urge you to do this, even if there's honestly not that much to see or do in Pocinho, because the Pinhão–Pocinho stretch is special.

I was so pleased I'd opted for rail over car: to be able to relax and drink in the scenery was a delight.

Essentially I only made this last part of my trip because a friend had suggested I visit a grower (the charming Joaquim Almeida, of Quinta de Vale de Pios) from the Barca d'Alva area. Apparently Pocinho was the nearest station. I wondered just how near it was: could I take a taxi? As it happened, Joaquim scooped me off the platform (it was 40°C at 5pm) and off we went in his car. An hour's drive took us into what looked like the Wild West. Fewer vineyards, many more olive and almond trees; vast expanses of sun-scorched schist.

So this is where my rail travel plan went (literally) off the tracks: I certainly couldn't have accessed Barca d'Alva without a car, so I'm very grateful to Joaquim for showing me around. It's true that with your own transport, you can boldly go where few have gone before. Perhaps I'll do that next time. Meanwhile, I've written another blog post about Joaquim and his wines (both are special). Suffice to say I was pleased I'd made it to the end of the line, and chuffed to have seen a bit of the Douro Superior.

Douro train touring tips

Relax and enjoy! Wifi is free and available in many places, so you'll be able to access info and directions. I was surprised by the kindness of strangers, the fact that English is spoken by many, and how cheap and easy train travel is.

Beat the heat: pack light, get up early, stay up late. Avoid vineyard visits and tastings in the middle of the day (sleep instead). Splurge on accommodation with air con and a pool.

Let the train take the strain. A single ticket from Porto São Bento to Pocinho (the end of the line) cost me  €13,30 and trip took around 3 and a half hours. Trains have air con (a blessing in the height of summer). You can buy your ticket at the station or on the train. Booking ahead wasn't necessary, there were always plenty of seats. All the train staff I met spoke English and were sweetly helpful. What a joy.

A peep behind the scenes at the soon-to-be-opened Rhône wines showcase in Avignon (France)

If you've visited Avignon's Papal Palace in recent years, chances are you'll have noticed the vast, handsome, boarded-up building that boxes off one end of the Place du Palais des Papes (to your left as you exit the the Palace).

Formerly occupied by the Banque de France, this work-in-progress is the historic Hôtel Calvet de la Palun. Currently under wraps, it's set to become a state-of-the-art showcase for the AOC wines of Côtes du Rhône and Rhône Valley and one of France's most ambitious wine tourism sites, taking visitors on a journey from grape to glass, via viticulture to... culture.

With almost 2,400 square metres of floorspace over four floors, the Carré du Palais is designed to be a heady blend of education and fun, based around Rhône wines and les Grands Ferments – in other words, products which, like wine, originate from specific geographical locations and terroirs, fermentation processes and craftsmanship.

Project creators Inter Rhône and their co-investor partners are carving out what promises to be a unique and fascinating venue. As locations go, this one takes some beating: around 600,000 visitors make their way to the Palais des Papes each year*, and it's easy to imagine that the Carré du Palais could pull in some of that footfall.

Recently I was lucky enough to get a private tour of the building site with Inter Rhône’s project manager Jean-Michel Guiraud (pictured above), so I took a few pictures to show what's in the pipeline. Building work started in early 2014, and it's fair to say that this has not been the most straightforward of renovations.

Dating back to 1789, the Hôtel Calvet de la Palun is a protected building and as such it has presented the architects with a number of challenges, hence the decision to scrap the luxury apartments originally planned for the top floor. However, many of the building’s original features have been painstakingly preserved, so the original charm remains intact.

This, and a number of changes to the original plan, have meant that the opening date has moved a couple of times. However, it is now set for April 2017, so fingers crossed that by the time the Découvertes en Vallée du Rhône event comes round (April 10 - 13, 2017), the Carré du Palais' doors will be well and truly open.  

Here's what awaits wine tourists:

- A Rhône Wine School with a variety of educational workshops aimed at different levels of knowledge, in several languages

- A Bar à Vins Oenotouristique (Wine Tourism Bar) representing all the Rhône Valley appellations, with 80 Rhône wines by the glass and 1000 wines à la carte, plus a cheese and charcuterie bar. In addition to this, wine tourism information and suggestions will also be available. Visitors will be able to enjoy their wine on the terrace overlooking the Place du Palais des Papes.

- A fine dining restaurant complete with terrace overlooking the Place de l'Horloge

- A “bistronomique” restaurant, plus areas for private dining, seminars and other events.

On the ground floor, a series of shops and workshops housing the Académie des Grands Ferments – Ecole des Savoir-Faire, featuring coffee, tea, chocolate, charcuterie, cheese and bakery products.

Le Carré du Palais - facts and figures  

21: the number of different building trades involved in the project

28: the number of tonnes of rubble excavated

7.7: the number (in millions of euros) invested by the project partners, to cover the acquisition and rehabilitation of the Hôtel Calvet de la Palun

2.7: the number (in millions of euros) invested by Inter Rhône towards the cost of the acquisition and rehabilitation

2350: the surface area of the Carré du Palais, in square metres

600,000: the number of tourists who visited the Palais des Papes in 2013

Joaquim Almeida tells me there's a saying amongst architects: “you build your first house for your enemy, the second for your friend, the third for yourself.”

As an architect-turned-grower, he's now in a position to make wines for himself (and his friends), but it wasn't always that way. I met him this summer when I took a train trip up the Douro valley, starting from Porto's São Bento station.

After about three and a half hours, we reached the end of the line and the small, sleepy town of Pocinho, just a few kilometres from the Spanish border.  

This is Douro Superior territory. The early stretch of the train ride from Porto to Régua is unremarkable but the journey from Pinhão to Pocinho is very lovely, with wonderful views of the terraced vineyards and river, and the joy of rail travel is that you can kick back and really drink in the scenery.

I'd asked friends for suggestions of quintas to visit. The initial choice was overwhelming, but not having a car certainly limited the possibilities. To make Joaquim's acquaintance, I had to take the train to the last stop, and the “end-to-end” idea somehow appealed.    

He met me off the train with a warm smile and a cold bottle of water, and off we went to the Barca d'Alva area. An hour's drive heading south-east took us into what looked like the Wild West, with fewer vineyards, many olive and almond trees, and vast expanses of sun-baked schist.

This was the Vale de Pios, an area that is part of the vast Parque Natural do Douro Internacional. It's known for its bird life (if I understood Joaquim correctly, Vale de Pios means valley of the chirping birds), and the steep banks of the valley form spectacular ravines where various endangered bird species nest.

Joaquim created Quinta de Vale de Pios in 2004, after 15 years working for himself as an architect. Amongst his designs were two winery projects for Port company Taylors, on which he collaborated with an enologist: the connection with the wine industry was made, and the gradual transformation from architect to wine grower began.

He watched and learned (“there's an advantage to being involved in wine but on the outside, just observing, you get to understand how things work, the potential of certain vineyards”) before renting six hectares of vineyard, and then purchasing 10 hectares of land which he planted to vine.  

I was curious to know what sort of money you'd need to create such a project. Joaquim estimates the costs of buying land and planting vines at €35-40,000 per hectare, including the necessary work pre- and post-planting, over the three-year period before the vines will yield a crop. This compares with a price tag of roughly €100,000 euros per hectare for old, top quality Douro DOC vines. “It saves time if you can buy the vines you need, but by planting your own, you get to custom-make your project,” he observes.

We walk around his organically-farmed vineyards in the late afternoon heat (the difference in  temperature between day and night is dramatic, from between 35ºC - 40ºC in the day and 15ºC - 20 °C at night). Schist prevails. The golden-brown rocky hillsides surrounding the vineyards are studded with ancient olive trees. The landscape is desert-like, magnificent.

The first vintage at Quinta de Vale de Pios was 2005, and the first wine was what is now the flagship cuvée, named Vale de Pios. “After that, I realised I needed to have a range, so I worked backwards,” laughs Joaquim. Today, the Quinta de Vale de Pios line up consists of one white, three reds, “and some experiments.”

Each year, Joaquim buys French oak barrels from several different suppliers, to see what will work best. He is very clear about the role of wood:  “I use barrels for their ability to stabilise colour, to bring structure and ageing potential, but not for the addition of aroma or flavour.” He is not interested in making “coconut and vanilla” wines. The home page of his website proclaims “taste the wine, feel the land.”

With each vintage comes the opportunity to learn more (hence the saying “you build your first house for your enemy, the second for your friend, the third for yourself.”) The 2011 vintage was a certainly a learning experience (the tank of juice destined for the premium cuvée was deemed “animal” and had to be written off), but things seem to be safely back on track now. A new winery is slowly taking shape, and should be ready to receive the 2017 harvest.

Joaquim sees parallels between architecture and wine growing: “As an architect, you use your drawing to develop a project, to see what can evolve. You try different things to see what works best, always modifying and improving. As a grower, I do the same. Each year, I try to elucidate the mystery. I rework my creation, to make it the best it can be.”

Tasting notes

Pios 2015 (white, Douro DOC)

Grapes are kept cool and spend a day in tank before pressing. Made from Rabigato (freshness and tropical fruit), Viosinho (white fruit, pear and melon) and a small amount of Codega do Lavinho. Battonage is carried out in tank (no barrels are used) creating a rich, round wine with length and complexity: Joaquim feels it would stand up well to sardines and other oily fish. Bold, full-bodied, and a steal at €6* (around $15 in the US).

Excomungado 2013 (red, Douro DOC)

Made from the first vines Joaquim planted. The name comes from a conversation between the neo-vigneron, who was very pleased with his creation, and his enologist José Maria Machado. “So what barrels shall we put this wine into?” asked the inexperienced grower. “None,” came the stern reply. “This is not a wine for barrel-ageing.” And thus Excomungado (“excommunicated”) was born. A blend of Touriga Nacional, Touriga Franca, Tinta Roriz and Tinto Cão, this wine's post-alcoholic fermentation aromas of red fruit are transformed by malo into something more Vinho Verde-like: a terroir-driven bargain at €6 (around $15 in the US).

Pios 2013 (red, Douro DOC)

Foot-crushed and fermented in lagares - “it's the best way, because unlike mechanical crushers, our feet feel pain, so we never crush too much or over-extract,” is the explanation. Touriga Nacional, Touriga Franca and Tinta Roriz spend 3 – 4 days fermenting together in lagares before being transferred to tank, skins and all, to finish the process. When malo starts, the liquid is quickly separated from the solids. Finally, the juice is matured in barrel - but only the three-year, air-dried kind. “If this wine was a play, the fruit is the main actor, the wood is just the backdrop” is how Joaquim describes his vision. Elegant, poised, €10 (around $20 in the US).

Vale de Pios 2013 (red, Douro DOC)

Mainly Touriga Nacional, with some Touriga Franca and Tinto Cão. Only made in exceptional years, “when we decide to declare a vintage, like the Port producers,” comments Joaquim. If anyone is holding 2005, they can count themselves lucky: it is in high demand, and sold out. 2007, 2008 and 2013 were also made: 2015 is currently hanging in the balance, as the decision is only taken after a year's ageing. The 2013 is rich and powerful, packed with tannins and fruit to take it much further down the road to greatness. Around €20.  

*all prices are ex-cellar

Where to find Quinta de Vale de Pios wines

Le Vin de Mes Amis (Domaine de Verchant, Montpellier, January 29-30, 2017)

Prowein (Düsseldorf, March 19-21, 2017)

Encontro com o Vinho e Sabores (Lisbon, November 11 – 14, 2017)

Forum Vini (Munich, November 11 – 13, 2017 )

Representation:

USA: Bliss Wine Imports https://www.blisswineimports.com/

Canada: Le Vin dans les Voiles http://www.levindanslesvoiles.com/

Germany: Rosário & Prange www.rosario-prange.de

Belgium: Kris Jeuris wijnhuisjeuris.be

In the south of France, wine tourism is growing like gangbusters.

As a PR working with wine producers in Languedoc-Roussillon*,  I'm pleased to say I’ve noticed quite a jump in eno-tourism (that neat combo of travelling and tippling) in the past five years.

Increasing numbers of growers are creating the infrastructure necessary to boost their businesses with visitors in mind, building tasting rooms and patios, accommodation, or even  shop-like structures from which they sell their own wines and those of fellow vignerons.

The ways in which oenotourisme is interpreted are various. Some domaines offer cheese and charcuterie platters to be enjoyed on the spot, or local produce and handicrafts as souvenirs. Others have devised programmes of guided tours, vineyard walks, food and wine pairing sessions, as well as a wide range of social meet ups based around live music, open-air film screenings, theatre performances and other entertainment, with wine as the centre point and social lubricant.

In the last couple of years, many of the clients I represent have actively embraced wine tourism in one or several of these ways. Calmel & Joseph purchased a 200-hectare estate in autumn 2015 and have transformed it into their corporate HQ, with the emphasis firmly on welcoming visitors: gîtes, swimming pool and sauna, an olive grove and lavender field, and a tasting room are all in place.  

In July 2016, Domaine La Madura inaugurated a vast, modern tasting room and winery, perched on a hill above the town of Saint-Chinian; in the same area, the appellation's trade body recently gave their Maison des Vins a total revamp and installed a wall full of wine tasting machines (meaning that tourists can now sample up to 15 wines, for free, year-round - an investment which, I am told, has driven sales significantly), and produced a free, French/English, 98-page wine tourism book providing in-depth information for anyone wishing to explore the area's wine heritage.

Last year I was tasked with organising a wine tourism-themed press trip in the Saint-Chinian area, showing journalists the various attractions, activites and projects that now exist within this appellation. We took the group to Assignan and visited Village Castigno, a €5m project that opened in summer 2015.

It's based around a number of properties within a small village which has been transformed into an other-worldly realm offering hip accommodation with contemporary designer deco, gourmet dining, a funky wine and tapas bar, an art gallery, scooter rides, vineyard BBQs, tastings and picnics: a music festival was held in summer 2016.

The colour scheme used across the project is bold, bright pink and in-your-face purple, and the interiors are left-field. It won’t be to everyone’s taste, but I'd honestly prefer it to the ubiquitous Provençal palette of sunflower yellow and lavender blue, and yet more ceramic cicadas.

Village Castigno is an extreme example, but it can be seen as part of a trend towards revamping property to create wine-themed vacation experiences. Also situated within the Saint-Chinian wine growing area, Château Les Carrasses was one of the very first Languedoc projects of this kind, transforming a run-down wine estate into a luxury holiday destination complete with château-hotel, swimming pool, restaurant and luxury self-catering properties.

Its creators have gone on to deliver another, resort-style property which opened in spring 2016. Around 20 minutes from Béziers, Chateau St Pierre de Serjac is the result of an extensive two- year, €25m renovation, and a collaboration between winemaker Laurent Bonfils and Irish property developer-hotelier Karl O’Hanlon.

The château has been converted into a boutique hotel with eight rooms, a bar and restaurant, while the original outbuildings have been transformed into 36 fully equipped self-catering properties dotted around the extensive grounds. A large heated infinity pool, beauty spa, clay tennis court, kids club, BBQ area and boulodrome add to a slickly attractive proposition.

The estate occupies a 200-acre site with views of olive groves, woodland and vines. When I visited the winery was being fully modernised, with the hope of making wine on site in autumn 2016. I had a pleasant lunch in the restaurant, where the wine list majors on Bonfils wines produced across their 23 estates. There were other good, local producers (e.g. Domaine de l'Arjolle) also featured, which demonstrates a certain generosity of spirit.

The interiors span several centuries: Louis XVI rubs shoulders with Napoleon Bonaparte, while Art Nouveau, Art Deco and mid-century touches lend a somewhat decadent feel. Vintage chandeliers and velvet curtains, original features and tasteful, muted hues create a result that is glam yet classy. Prices start from €178 per night (2 nights minimum) for a studio apartment in the low season, and there are offers published on the website for short breaks, spa days and the like which are worth checking out.  

With all this money flying around, you might be forgiven for thinking back with nostalgia to a time when Languedoc wine life was simpler. Indeed, a journalist writing about wine tourism in France asked me "are the days when you could walk into a two-bit winery and chew the fat with the vigneron gone?”

Honestly, I’m not sure those days ever really existed here (or at least, not since the early 1990s and the advent of competition from the New World). In Languedoc at least, many of the smaller growers I know are working flat out, farming their vines, making wine and then travelling to sell it. Often away at trade shows or on sales visits, in France and abroad, they're rarely available to simply stand around and chat. Larger outfits (Paul Mas, Gérard Bertrand, Château de Pennautier) have dedicated staff running their tasting rooms, but this kind of set up, à la Californian or South African model, is still quite unusual in the south of France. It’s all very well creating gîtes and patios, but someone’s going to have to staff them, which means more work for the team in place, or hiring new staff (perhaps not something to be done lightly, given French employment legislation and associated financial obligations).

But I like to think that the fact that increasing numbers of Languedoc’s players (great and small) are investing in oenotourisme, means that there will be an effect on visitor numbers, awareness and sales, so this strikes me as a very positive trend. I look forward to revisiting this subject again in a few months, when no doubt more projects will have come on line.

*The region formerly known as Languedoc-Roussillon, now clumsily dubbed Occitanie Pyrénées-Méditerranée

To my shame, I couldn't put Cahors on the map. I was aware of the appellation, knew it was in south west France. Malbec sprung to mind, but not much else. It sounded familiar (nice job, Cahors PR people), but that was about it. 

An invitation from the UIVC (the trade body responsible for promoting this appellation) for a wine and truffle tasting in Cahors seemed a good way to plug the gaps in my knowledge, so I accepted with alacrity.

Here’s what I gleaned.   

Cahors -  or “Cahors Malbec”, as the UIVC marketing team likes to call it – is actually a pretty small appellation (around 4,200 hectares under vine). However, it was undoubtedly already on my radar because of the marketing done to date, most notably the launch in 2007 of a campaign that took “Cahors, the French Malbec” as its baseline.

This was followed in 2008 by the creation of Les Journées Internationales du Malbec (renamed Cahors Malbec Days in 2014), an annual event uniting Malbec producers from around the world with wine trade members and journalists, for talks and tastings in Cahors.

With the strategic direction firmly set, there are plans afoot to raise Cahors' profile. The UIVC wants to push the territory rather than the product, selling the destination and creating a strong image for the area as a whole.   

A couple of pieces of the puzzle are already in place.

First, there's the Villa Cahors Malbec, an attractive building that houses the UIVC offices and the Cahors Malbec Lounge, a chic, black-and-purple hued showcase for the AOC's wines. This was the setting for our tuber-tastic evening of truffle-themed dishes, prepared by local chef Pascal Bardet of Michelin-star restaurant Le Gindreau and paired with some outstanding wines as part of the annual Cahors Malbec & Truffle Festival.  

Creating a town-centre tasting room is a good move, but to team it up with the greater Cahors tourist office is a stroke of genius (come for the maps, stay for the wine).

Visitor figures support the vision: since the Villa Cahors Malbec opened its doors, some 170,000 tourists frequent the shared space each year, attracted no doubt by the chance to sample some hearty, black Cahors wines (tasting flights are available for €5, €10 and €15).

Bearing in mind that Cahors is a tiny town with a population of around 20,000, those visitor numbers are pretty impressive.

As well as sipping and spitting at Villa Cahors Malbec, wine lovers can plan their vineyard visits. Bottles are not soled at the Villa but the distinctive, ring-in-stem Cahors glass can be bagged for only €5 (it makes an excellent souvenir), and there's plenty of information available to help you get the very most out of your stay.  

Another box already ticked is the official recognition of “Destination Cahors Malbec," a collection of over 110 places and spaces that was awarded the French national wine tourism label Vignobles et Découvertes in 2013, putting Cahors firmly on the French wine tourism map.

The plan for 2016 onwards is to ramp up the Cahors Malbec wine tourism offer. New signage will clearly identify Cahors' growers, making it easier for visitors to find their way to the AOC's tasting rooms and perhaps encouraging motorway traffic to detour to Cahors. It's hoped that tourists might linger a little longer (the town tends to be a brief stop rather than a final destination), and that those who come for the tourist attractions might stay for the wine (and conversely, wine fans might dip into the appellation's other attractions).

On my whirlwind visit, I witnessed some of the tourism infrastructure already in place, and learned of things in the pipeline.

Our point of reference was the Lot river, which forms the backbone of the Cahors AOC (a stretch of roughly 70 km, following the water from Luzech to St-Cirq-Lapopie); with its many meanders and soaring limestone cliffs, it provides a dramatic and distinctive backdrop. 

I met Jean-Marc Vayssouze (mayor of Cahors and President of the Grand Cahors region), who explained the plan to incorporate the picturesque Lot département into Cahors' marketing activity, along with local produce (aaffron, truffles, walnuts, foie gras, Rocamadour cheese) and history (the area boasts many places of historic interest and Cahors itself has two UNESCO World Heritage sites, namely its cathedral and the 14th century Pont Valentré footbridge).

I saw a wide range of leisure, accommodation, dining and tasting options (I've listed a few highlights at the end of this post), but I came up against a problem. For example, the idea of taking a boat trip on the Lot and combining this with wine tasting, a meal (with wine, natch) or a winery visit sounded great: I was assured this was possible, but there was no obvious indication of where to go, how to book, or what the cost might be.

I tried googling for wine touring itineraries, but drew a blank.

What Cahors needs is a practical guide, explaining how to access the area's riches via suggested routes. Looking back at my 10 (yes) pages of notes, what's missing is the structure. As a time-poor tourist on a long weekend in Cahors, I'd need to do a lot of homework to plan my route, working out which wine bar/shop/restaurant was open, which wineries had tasting rooms, and how near any of these places were to my accommodation.

The €400,000 budget earmarked for the road signs is no doubt money well spent, but let’s hope it's backed up by some solid “here's how to” pointers featuring wine of course, but also food, culture, history and nature.  The Lot Tourisme site is a start, but there's a lot (pun intended) more that could be done to broaden this out.

Maybe I'll return one day and write some itineraries myself. Meanwhile, see my list of pointers below.

WHEN IN CAHORS: ESSENTIAL INFO

When to go

Plan your trip to coincide with World Malbec Day (April 17) and raise a glass or two to the signature grape of Cahors (and Argentina). The first weekend of July sees the three-day Lot of Saveurs Festival (see below), mid-July there's the five-day Cahors Blues Festival, and in July/August the Cahors tourist office runs half-day Escapades Vigneronnes (guided wine walks) as well as guided wine tasting tours of the town. Come in September/October to see vineyards in their autumnal glory and the grape harvest in full swing.

Where to stay

Accommodation options are essentially self-catering properties, or guest houses. For luxury rooms within a winery try Domaine de Labarthe, in Espere. I stayed at Mas Azémar, a charming, old-fashioned B&B just outside Cahors with an open fire, antique furniture and a cosy ambiance (open year-round).

Where to eat

Restaurant recommendations from the wine growers I met during my trip:

Le Vinois in Caillac (attractive hotel with a fine dining restaurant)

Le Balandre in Cahors (upmarket restaurant with a particularly good wine list)

L'O à la Bouche in Cahors (creative cuisine from a young chef using local produce)

L'Auberge du Vieux Douelle (down-to-earth dishes, friendly style, famous for its grilled meat)

O Saveurs in Rouffiac (smart, contemporary, well-priced: €27 for a 3-course lunch menu with coffee, wine by the glass from €6)

Where to taste

La Villa Malbec (Cahors town centre) offers tastings of three Cahors Malbec wine styles: Tender & Fruity (70 – 85% Malbec, the remainder is Merlot or Tannat), Feisty & Powerful (80% Malbec), or Intense & Complex (100% Malbec). Opt for a simple tasting or sign up for the special events hosted on the first Thursday of the month (e.g. wine with art, music, chocolate or cheese).

Chateau Lagrezette is one of Cahors' most upmarket estates: pick up a bottle of their Le Pigeonnier 2011, awarded 95 points by Robert Parker (it'll set you back €180), or visit the barrel cellar and taste for free (open weekends from April - October). Clos Triguedina offers visits and free tastings Monday-Friday, visitors can drop in but groups must book ahead. Chateau de Chambert (Cahors’ largest organic producer) has a free 30-minute tasting; a longer tasting and winery tour costs €7. For more tasting room suggestions see http://www.tourisme-lot.com/en/see-and-do/savour/the-wine#!/page/1

Don't miss

Cahors Malbec & Truffle Festival at La Villa Malbec

An annual event held in January/February with a set, six-course gourmet dinner for €90, wines included. Details from [email protected], tel. +33 (0)6 85 79 32 94.

Lot of Saveurs

A three-day food-fest attracting 2000+ visitors. Includes a gastronomic banquet, a laid-back public picnic, and a walk-and-taste dining experience with food and wine stations at strategic points around the town of Cahors.

For further information:

http://uk.france.fr/en/discover/vignobles-decouvertes-destination-cahors-malbec

tourisme-cahors.fr

http://www.vindecahors.fr/

Once a year, my adopted home town of Montpellier finds itself at the center of the organic wine world, when it hosts Millésime Bio, a three-day trade fair for organic wine producers. The 2016 edition featured just under 900 exhibitors from 15 countries including France, Spain and Italy, Bulgaria, Argentina, Chile, Hungary, Slovenia, Greece, Austria, New Zealand, and - for the very first time - the UK. With so many options it’s a challenge to figure out what to taste and who to talk to, so I tried to tease out a couple of themes. It was trickier than I imagined, but here they are. 

I'm originally from East Sussex (ie. the southern part of the UK), where the English wine scene is blossoming, so I was curious to meet the show’s one and only UK exhibitor. As you can see from the photo below, it was easy enough to spot Roy Cook, owner of Sedlescombe Organic Vineyard (hats off, guys!). Roy is truly a pioneer: not only is he Millésime Bio's very first UK vineyard exhibitor, but he also broke ground in his home country: founded in 1979, Sedlescombe is England's oldest organic vineyard.

I followed up with Roy (the self-annointed “grandfather of organic viticulture,” as per his website) a couple of weeks after the show, to ask what sort of reception his English wines had been given: “We made lots of very interesting and potentially good contacts at Millésime Bio, we're now busy following them all up. The enquiries came from France, Spain, Netherlands, Belgium, Germany, UK and Canada, amongst others, but it'll probably be some time before we are able to assess the sales value of the exhibition for us.” So watch this space and see if Sedlescombe Organic Vineyards returns for Millésime Bio 2017, I guess. They certainly get points for standing out in a crowd, and I like they way they tell their story on their website: nicely done, Sedlescombe.

I noticed quite a number of show exhibitors were displaying Demeter logos, flagging up their affiliation with the France-based international certification body for biodynamic growers: this was particularly timely because the first international Demeter wine trade show was about to take place in Angers, in partnership with the Levée de la Loire and Salon des Vins de Loire shows.  

Inspired by the orange logo, I tasted with Friederike Roll (photo above) of German producer Gustavshof, who was pouring their orange wine, made from 100% Johanniter grapes (a fungus-resistant variety, or as the Germans call it, PIWI – pilzwiderstandsfähig).

My last experience of orange wine was a guided tasting with natual wine champion and all-round nice bloke Simon Woolf at Vinisud 2014, which left me perplexed, but orange wine has continued to develop quite a cult following, even commanding a feature in Decanter magazine, so I figured I’d give it another go. Hand on heart, I can't say it rocked my boat, but hey... I tried. As the French would say, “il a le mérite d'exister.” I think we’ll leave it at that. 

All of which brings us nicely onto the oddball prize, which goes to the Pugibet family and their “orgasmic” wine (see photo above). Father François and son Vincent are renowned in organic wine circles for their pioneering work, producing lower-alcohol wine and growing fungus-resistant grape varieties. They are pictured here with Vincent’s wife Sophie, the driving force behind the creation of their dealcoholised wine, Plume. Yummy would not be the right word for this, but plucky (or stubborn) might be a good one for the Pugibets. They keep on ploughing their slightly kooky furrow, and why shouldn’t they?

Also spotted at Millésime Bio: men with a past. Some are born into wine, others come to it later in life. I know quite a few producers who fall into this category, as it's the story of the 12 members of my Outsiders group; often, it's the broader life/world experience that sets them apart from their fellow producers, and it’s a theme I’m personally fond of.

So on that tip, I stopped for a quick chat with Philippe Bordes (Domaine Bordes - photo above), a Saint-Chinian grower of food-friendly wines who happened to be a plumber in a previous life. There’s something about Philippe’s demeanour (as well as his wines) that pleases me, and I’d be curious to know him better and understand how he made the transition from U bends to blends. Sadly, trade shows are not really the right place to engage producers in lengthy chats (they’re too busy trying to flog their wines, for goodness’ sake) but I’ve made myself a mental note to revisit this story.

I also talked to Eric Prissette (Villa Symposia - see photo below), an ex-professional football player-turned-vigneron who started with 2 ha of vines in Saint-Emilion before ending up with a rather swishy (by Languedoc standards, at least) estate with 40 ha of vines, luxury vacation rentals and a swimming pool in the Languedoc-Pézenas appellation area (read more of Eric’s story here - he’s done quite well for himself).

At the end of a full day’s trudging round the tables, with my energy level  dipping, I reviewed my notes. I hadn’t tasted as many wines as I planned (and I don’t enjoy writing about wine tasting per se), but I felt pleased with the various exchanges I’d had, particularly the last two. Philippe and Eric both appear to have found success, and take evident pleasure in their second careers: a sight for sore eyes indeed. 

I was not born digital, by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, I was born in the 1960s, before mobile phones existed. We didn’t have MacBooks or Facebook: it was just books back then, pure and simple. I’m talking about a time before the internet was invented. Imagine that, if you can.

I grew up in a household where books, newspapers and magazines ruled the day. Paper was prized. At university, I wrote my dissertation by hand. My mum typed it up on her trusty old manual machine, carefully making corrections with Tippex and one of those rubber pencils that never quite erased properly.

After graduation, my first job was in the office of a Paris-based company, coordinating translations. Text was painfully transcribed at glacial speed via an enormous telex machine, or fed through a fax that regularly disconnected itself. Long, tedious telephone conversations with translators in foreign countries were the norm: (Me: “did you get all 17 pages?” Him: “I only got 11, and I'm not sure which ones are which, I can't read the numbers, and not all of them have come out legibly.” Me: *sigh* “I'll start again...”)  

My digital epiphany came in December 2010, when I met Ryan Opaz and Robert McIntosh of Vrazon. I'd gotten onto their radar via social media and been invited to be a panel speaker at a wine conference in Porto. I ended up working with Ryan and Rob on their annual European Wine Bloggers Conference (aka the DWCC). I joined the ranks of the wine bloggers late, making my first, tentative post as a guest on Wink Lorch's Wine Travel Guides site in 2011: dipping my toes in this water earned me a 2012 Born Digital Wine Award, and a Kindle as my prize. Emboldened, I entered the BDWA 2015 competition and garnered another Runner Up award (this time round, I was the Avis of the Best Tourism Content category).

Fast forward to October 2015 and I was at the DWCC in Plovdiv, Bulgaria, with a download of Cathy Huyghe's Hungry for Wine on my Kindle, and Cathy herself in front of me: she proved to be exactly the enthusiastic, friendly wine communicator that I'd imagined via our online connection, prior to our meeting IRL.  

In her book, as part of a section entitled Seven Secrets for Daily Wine, Cathy writes: “Find new friends who are also interested in wine. Link up with a tasting club. Take a class. Start your own BYOB dinner group. Wine is meant to be shared. Plus it's just more fun that way.”

Inspired by Cathy, I decided to organise a BYOB event: I reached out to the MBA students I'd been teaching on a Wine and International Markets course at Montpellier's ISV, figuring they might like the idea. On the designated evening, I polished glasses and paced nervously: what if nobody showed up?

Reader, the evening was a riot. My kitchen quickly filled with bodies and bottles. We spoke English, French and franglais. As a social lubricant, wine works well. Shy students relaxed. Those with limited English found fluency. My partner and I laughed and joked with the crowd, some of whom were three decades younger than us, and most definitely born digital. Age was irrelevant: we could all speak the language of wine.  

It was so much fun, I did it all over again, a few weeks later, with the BA group of students from the same school. Once again, we communicated beyond the confines of the classroom: we bonded over our bottles, discovering growers and grapes that were new to us.

So as 2015 draws to an end, this is a post to say thank you. Obrigado to Rob and Ryan, and to Wink, for encouraging me to dive into digital. Thanks to Cathy, for the impetus to share. Merci to the ISV students: you were a pleasure to teach, and a joy to host. May your hunger for wine take you far...

(on taboos, tattoos and MasterChef)

Something happened to me recently which reminded me of the classic UK comedy series Fawlty Towers and Basil Fawlty’s infamous “don’t mention the war!” sketch.

Let me explain. As a blogger/wine PR/occasional wine writer, I get sent the occasional invitation. The most recent was to lunch at the restaurant of a local luxury hotel, Le Disini, just outside Montpellier;  the occasion was the arrival of new chef Ludovic Dumont.

I wrote back, accepted the invitation, popped the date in my diary and looked forward to what I hoped would be an interesting experience. On the designated day, the PR rep sent a reminder mail, but there was a condition: the hotel management and the chef did not want to be asked about a certain subject during the lunch, nor for it to be mentioned in anything I might publish. The taboo subject was MasterChef and (as she termed it) “l'après MasterChef.”

Well, as you can imagine, I promptly googled the chef's name and MasterChef. Wouldn't you?

It turns out Ludovic Dumont won the French TV show MasterChef in 2012. After that, he did some other things (opened a restaurant, closed it, was hired by a restaurant, left it, opened his own restaurant, and subsequently closed it,) before joining Le Disini. I couldn't quite see what the problem was, unless there was some discomfort on his side associated with the time frame (three years, three restaurants), or the fear that focusing on his TV show win would somehow detract from his latest, more serious position.

From my side, the problem was being told what I could (or couldn't) ask, talk or write about. I decided to go along and see how it all panned out. If no-one mentioned the war, neither would I. The irony was that if it hadn't been mentioned in the email, I'd have been none the wiser. Our small group gathered in the hotel’s outdoor dining area (all dappled light and distinctly Indonesian ambiance, very attractive) and we were introduced.

Ironically, within minutes, chef Dumont brought up “l'après MasterChef” himself, talking quite happily about his various, comparatively short-lived culinary adventures in Dunkerque (his birth region), followed by his Languedoc adventures in Palavas (at Le Phare) and Castelnau, where he opened L'Expression. Don't mention MasterChef? Maybe Chef didn't get the memo.

We sat down to eat and the question of wine came up: what would we like to drink? With typical French awkwardness, no-one ventured much of an opinion. One of the hotel team ordered for us all – a bottle of red wine, from the Pic St Loup area. No questions about what we might be eating, or whether we'd like to try various wines by the glass. Apparently they have a consultant-sommelier, Aurelien Tostin, but he was not in attendance.

I asked to see the wine list and there were plenty of good, local producers represented (Clos des Clapisses, Prieuré de Saint Jean de Bébian, le Clos du Serres, Domaine de Viranel, le Clos des Fées, Domaine Padie), so it was frustrating to not get to sample anything other than one red wine: it worked very well with our main course of Aubrac-reared beef with truffles and squab but overpowered the carpaccio of scallop (just the one) with oxalis (it's a plant) and truffle served as a starter.  

Lunch itself was top notch: various delicious, meticulously prepared and presented dishes were brought out, and although I found the servings rather small (call me greedy, but the French gourmet cuisine tradition does seem to revolve around the “small but perfectly formed/less is more” idea), the ingredients were top quality and as chef Dumont explained, everything was made from scratch. He mentioned that he didn't much like talking about his cuisine, preferring to let it speak for itself (“la pub est dans l'assiette”, he said – “the proof is in the pudding”). Was he interested in food and wine pairing at all? “I tell the sommelier what ingredients and flavours are in my dishes, then I let him do his job,” was the response.

I felt I'd struck gold when we managed to get onto food pairing (the principle that certain foods go well together if they share key flavour components – like lobster and blackberry, or oysters and kiwi fruit). Chef Dumont told us about the Foodpairing site which he and others within the food industry use to identify happy but often highly innovative marriages, born out of combinations that are not influenced or restricted by culture or tradition (chocolate and cauliflower, anyone?)

This was blowing my mind, but I was feeling pretty restricted by culture and tradition myself: in France, there's a certain dining protocol which frowns on (for example) asking for more wine, or serving yourself, or asking for a wine other than what's been chosen by your host. This, combined with my very British tendency to nod along and not rock the boat, was weighing down heavily upon me. No-one else was vibing on the food pairing thing, and I felt I was still in need of a good quote.

Screwing up my courage, I decided to try one last cheeky question. Could Ludovic tell us more about the tattoos I could see peeking out of the neck and sleeve of his whites? With a shy smile, he explained that the names of his children featured on his neck, before rolling up his sleeve to show us written large, right up the length of his right arm: Only God can judge me.

It seems there was some flack in the “après MasterChef” period: apparently, other chefs with more experience thought it wrong that a relative new-comer should be in the spotlight and reading between the lines, this was a stressful time for Ludovic, prompting his decision to be tramp-stamped. “Having a tattoo is painful,” he explained, “so getting a big one done is like purging yourself of something.” I don't have any tattoos, so I'll take his word on that.

I ended with a question that steered us back onto safer ground: where would a professional chef go for a decent meal in the Hérault area? This produced an enthusiastic response (hurrah!), so here are four suggestions, all of which I plan to test soon.

Les bons plans de Ludovic Dumont

Terre et Mer (Sète) http://www.restaurant-terreetmer.com/

L'Artimon (Palavas-les-Flots) http://www.lartimon.com/

Chez Coco (Aigues Mortes) http://chez-coco.com/

La Cote Bleue (Bouzigues) http://www.la-cote-bleue.fr/fr/index.html

An interview with Randall Grahm

You may well have heard about the latest vineyard project by US wine maverick Randall Grahm, which he launched via the crowd-funding site Indiegogo on July 21, 2015.

(photo supplied by Randall Grahm)

Randall has already published screeds about his plans to “discover a New World grand cru.”

However, when I first read about this ambitious idea, what I really wanted to know more about was the man behind the plan, and what events had brought him to this point in his life's work.

So I got in touch with Randall and asked him straight up: within less than 24 hours, he had generously responded. You can read our correspondence below: I hope it serves to shed light on what this initiative is all about, and encourages others to help fund this important work.  

Planting at Popelouchum (photo: Ryan Woodhouse)

Q: I do some work for the Wine Mosaic association, which seeks to preserve and promote original grape varieties. Is there any similarity with what you're doing at Popelouchum?

A: The project I'm working on at my farm in San Juan Bautista is a little bit different than the work of Wine Mosaic - I'm hoping to create (or more accurately, reveal) new germplasm, rather than preserve existing varieties - it all is about the same end, an eye to true sustainability and preserving our genetic patrimony for the future.

Q: Can you give us the general gist?

A: Our overall aim is to produce a distinctive, authentic wine of place in the New World and to model true sustainability. With this in mind, I'm undertaking to breed 10,000 new grape varieties, building on some of the work that Prof. Andy Walker of UC Davis has already done in conferring significant disease resistance (Pierce's Disease and powdery mildew) on a number of vinifera varieties (which he did by crossing them with Vitis arizonica.)

The idea now is to take these grapes that are 97% vinifera and look at what might be done to really make them both maximally congruent to our set of growing conditions, and at the same time, also discover particular genotypes that have distinctive* sensory characteristics.

Grenache vines at Popelouchum (photo: Laura Ness)

Q: You've talked about wanting to “discover a New World grand cru” - can you elaborate on that?

A: Sure. The whole notion behind the initiative is really predicated on the idea that the New World has really been hopelessly imitative of the Old - we haven't yet discovered our unique and distinctive voice. My idea is that growing varietal blocks of grapes is quite limiting - we'll never find the degree of congruence that the Old World has discovered with their centuries of iteration - but maybe by growing completely heterogeneous blocks, every vine genetically distinct from the other, we can produce a wine of real complexity, and allow the soil characteristics of the wine, rather than the varietal characteristics, to emerge. It's my hope that I'll  be able to produce a wine from our Popelouchum Estate in San Juan Bautista, reflective of the great quality of terroir I know it to possess.  Secondarily, we might find certain vines that are particularly well suited to the site, or which have utterly unique (and favourable) characteristics.

Q: How realistic do you think this ambition is? If you don't achieve this specific aim, are there other benefits that might result?

A: I'm hoping to create a "wine of place" in the New World, as the French would say, un vin de terroir – in other words, a wine of rare complexity and harmony.

Now, maybe virtually none of the progeny of the mother plant will be as brilliant as their mother, but as a suite or ensemble, there is a level of complexity that could not otherwise be achieved.  However, the side benefit of the project is that we will be generating a ton of new germplasm, which, with enough time and study, might well reveal individual plants of real interest to the planet, especially in virtue of global climate change. It would be gratifying if one or more new "genius" grape varieties were to emerge from the mix.

In any event, there are a lot of exceptionally cool aspects to the project. I collected wild vitis berlandieri in Texas - the most drought resistant native grape you can find - and have grown the seedlings up for rootstock, which could be very, very interesting. We're doing some work on the idea of planting promiscuous plantations - other species of plants in and amongst the vines, with the intention of promoting greater species diversity. And of course, we'll be using biochar liberally as a way of enhancing drought tolerance and better micronutrient uptake.

Pinot vines at Popelouchum (photo: Helen Ziegler)

Q: At the risk of sounding rather base, what's in it for those who get “down with the Dooniverse” and contribute to the Indiegogo campaign?

A: There are a number of cool rewards, including the shot at potential immortality through the naming of a new grape variety (one's designated grape might be the next Riesling or Pinot Noir, though it might also turn out to be the next Pinotage - that's how it goes), or the opportunity to participate in some very special events at the vineyard in San Juan Bautista. You can see all of the details of the initiative and campaign at http://igg.me/at/GrahmCru.

Q: You chose to launch on Indiegogo at 6.23 am on July 21st, 2015 – why that specific moment?

A: It's a time considered particularly propitious in Maria Thun's Biodynamic calendar for the "sowing of seeds” - and that's what we're doing here, in the metaphorical sense.

Q: You've written about wanting to create 'a wine possessed of "life-force," or vinous qi’ - and you've admitted that this could sound a little New-Agey. If we could perhaps delve a little deeper into your own spiritual development, how does this particular project resonate with where you’re at right now, in your life journey?

A: I don't quite know where I am on my spiritual journey; some parts lost, some parts found, but I know that this work is definitely a very important part of it. I am a bit of a Luftmensch, somewhat lost in the clouds, by habit and inclination.  You might say that the secondary, personal aim of this project is to really force me to become a lot more "present," to pay attention to the smallest details, and to really use the one gift that I seem to have - whether you call it an ability to synthesize or to intuit connections between things. Maybe the word only exists in French - bricoleur, but that is certainly what I am.

I also have been cooped up too long indoors (or on airplanes, hotel rooms); I really could use some fresh air. Learning to take better care of myself (my health in particular) would be a very useful thing for me, (and possibly enable me to stick around to see my daughter grow up.)

(photo supplied by Randall Grahm)

Q: You talk about wishing to "leave something of real value to the world when I'm gone” - what prompted this train of thought? Did something specific happen in your life in recent years to trigger this desire?

A: While I am very proud of the Bonny Doon Vineyard wines we've made over the years, it's now time for me to put together all of the eclectic bits I've gathered in my diverse experience and seek to achieve something on a very different level, and to leave something of real value to the world when I'm gone (above and beyond all those terminally cute wine labels).

One has these existential crises that either come all at once or more typically are the accretion of a number of factors. In my own case, I had a life-threatening illness about eleven years, just a year after the birth of my daughter, Amélie, (which was in itself a trigger as well).

I realized that I had taken a fairly large detour from my original intention in entering the wine business, which was to make truly distinctive wines. I have always been utterly taken with vins de terroir, but somehow was just too much of a wimp to ever imagine I could ever truly make a wine of place.

But, at the time, Bonny Doon Vineyards was quite a large company (450K cases annually), and it was quite clear that I would have to take decisive action if I were ever to produce a real vin de terroir. So, it was about nine years ago I sold off the large brands (Big House, Cardinal Zin, etc.), shrunk the company, and set off in search of finding an appropriate piece of land.  

(photo: Lindsay Sonu)

Q: You're clearly laying the foundations for a truly long-term initiative. Who do you see carrying the Popelouchum project forward, after you? Do members of your family currently play an active role in the project, or might they do so in the future?

A: That's a really good question. I have one really key colleague, Nicole Walsh* (pictured below), who I hope will stay with this project for a long time, but I really need to put in a more structured mechanism to make sure that this program is capable of moving forward after I'm gone. The first step is to establish a non-profit foundation, and make sure that it has adequate funding and structure. Alas, my daughter is only 12 at the moment, and she's interested in everything else but farming. But that could change, especially when we bring in animals to the farm.

Nicole Walsh (photo supplied by Randall Grahm)

Q: One last question, please. What would you want written on your tombstone?

A: "This time I'm not kidding."

To borrow a line from the Scott McKenzie song, if you’re going to San Francisco, be sure to visit Ballard Canyon AVA* - it’s a lesser-known part of California wine country but it sure beats Napa and Sonoma in the authenticity stakes, IMHO.

My trip to Ballard Canyon was more a matter of chance than a carefully-laid plan, though; here’s how it happened.

In 2014 I went to the Wine Bloggers Conference (WBC) in Buellton (Santa Barbara County). As part of this event I attended a presentation about the Santa Barbara area in general, and Ballard Canyon in particular, by Michael Larner, vintner-winemaker at Larner Vineyards and locomotive in the Ballard Canyon AVA initiative.

During the conference, I also got to sit in on a tutored tasting of Syrah-based Ballard Canyon wines with a panel of eight leading light growers from the AVA, namely Beckmen Vineyards, Harrison Clarke, Jonata Wines, Kimsey Vineyard, Larner Vineyard, Rusack, Saarloos and Sons, and Stolpman Vineyards.

We were told that, after experimenting with many different varieties, the growers and producers of Ballard Canyon felt that Syrah was the grape best-suited throughout their area. Over half of the AVA’s planted area is Syrah, with an additional 30% planted to other Rhône varietals including Grenache, Viognier and Roussanne.

The information and wines presented were fascinating, and my appetite for adventure was whetted: curious to know more, I bundled my travel companion-photographer-friend into our hire car and we took a short side trip to see what was what.

I certainly hadn't read or heard much about the wines of Ballard Canyon before my time in this part of California, possibly because Ballard Canyon is a comparatively new wine region (AVA status was only granted in October 2013), and as such, it has not been extensively featured as a wine travel destination to date.

However, we'd heard that Ballard Canyon was wine history in the making (apparently, renowned sommelier Rajat Parr has predicted that it will rank alongside regions such as Châteauneuf-du-Pape and Bordeaux), so it seemed high time to make the short drive from the WBC base in Buellton to the wine tourism mini-mecca that is Los Olivos and from there, along the Ballard Canyon road.

So first, Los Olivos: with a population of roughly 1,130 it may be small but it boasts a multitude of attractive tasting rooms, cafés, wine bars and restaurants, not forgetting the spendy Fess Parker Wine Country Inn and Spa, making it a veritable haven for well-heeled travellers who like their wine served up with a certain style.

The French have a term, “bobo,” meaning bohemian-bourgeois, which sums up Los Olivos quite nicely, I think (and I mean that as a compliment).  

For me, highlights here included a really good meal at the Los Olivos Wine Merchant and Café (I wrote about it here), and a fun tasting at Saarloos & Sons' stylish visitor facility (easily recognised thanks to the vintage pink caravan parked outside).

Call me shallow but sometimes, a little terroir goes a long way (and I'd already done my homework at the Wine Bloggers Conference), so the chocolate blackberry Syrah cup cakes in an egg box, scented candles and Facebook photo booth on offer here were a welcome respite.

After the delights of downtown Los Olivos we were ready for a contrast, neatly provided by a gentle drive along the Ballard Canyon road (downtown tasting rooms are great for ease of access, but if you yearn to eye-ball the vines, handle the soil or ponder over pruning methods, an urban location doesn't tell the whole story).

So we took a short, roughly 8-mile drive and got reacquainted with the quiet life. Ballard Canyon is certainly ripe for discovery by wine tourists who want to step off the beaten track. If it's cup cakes you crave, stay put in Los Olivos: there's nothing in the way of shops or food stops along this route, but there's plenty to please the eye, if you appreciate natural beauty.

We kept our speed down and marvelled at the rolling hills and gentle slopes, the orderly vineyards and open expanses of land covered with sun-scorched, golden-brown grasses, dotted with mighty oak trees and the odd buffalo. I snapped pictures of the ranch signs standing proud, here and there, along the road side.

We wanted to admire the vines and views, to unwind and taste. The choice was simple: Rusack is currently the only estate with a public tasting room on the Ballard Canyon road (most of the AVA's other producers have tasting facilities in nearby towns, although Michael Larner confirmed that he hopes to get a building at his winery licensed as a tasting room – at the time of writing, he has been waiting for four years).

Asked about the scarcity of winery-located tasting rooms, local sources suggested that Rusack had “grandfather” rights, but that today, local authorities are loath to let wineries build tasting rooms in rural areas, for fear that tourists might drink and drive. It was also hinted that local residents might fear change, seeing winery development and events as a source of increased road traffic.

So, setting foot in Rusack's handsome estate feels like something of a privilege. Visitors are welcome to consume food (along with Rusack wines) sitting on the shady patio overlooking the beautifully-manicured gardens and grounds.

The tasting room sells plates of cheese and crackers, but we bought some organic, hyper-local picnic provisions from the fabulous Global Gardens Caliterrean Café in Los Alamos, which we enjoyed with the Rusack Reserve Syrah in its special, custom-moulded bottle featured at the top of this post (unveiled at the 2014 WBC, the new Ballard Canyon Syrah bottle is exclusively for Syrahs that are estate grown in the AVA).

During our visit, we were lucky enough to run into Rusack winemaker Steven Gerbac (pictured below), who kindly answered our geeky questions (meeting the man behind the label is a big bonus for wine buffs). We discovered that Rusack is in fact something of a pioneer in Ballard Canyon AVA's history: in 1974, pioneer Gene Hallock founded the Ballard Canyon Winery, on what is now Rusack Vineyards.

A planting boom in the 1990's saw the arrival of the Stolpman, Beckmen, Harrison, Larner, and Saarloos families, followed by Jonata and Tierra Alta, and subsequently by names including Kimsey, Jorian Hill, and Rancho Boa Vista who focused on Syrah and Rhône grape varieties.

The desire for AVA recognition was born out of a 2010 sommelier seminar, hosted by six Ballard Canyon wineries who got together to focus on Syrah. Michael Larner took the lead, a petition was researched, written and submitted, and finally, Ballard Canyon was granted its very own AVA, three years later.

It's located between US Route 101 to the west, Alamo Pintado Rd. to the east, Los Olivos to the north and Buellton to the south, spans almost 7,800 acres (3,157 hectares) of which 560 acres (227 hectares) are planted to vines, and is the smallest AVA in Santa Ynez Valley, comprising 18* registered vintners.

Of the nine estates that produce and bottle wine, three have tasting rooms in Los Olivos, namely Saarloos and Sons (mentioned above), Larner (located within the town's picturesque General Store), and Stolpman.

Beckmen's wines can be tasted at the winery itself, located to the south of town, Harrison Clarke accepts visitors at the estate by appointment only, and Jonata has a tasting facility in a warehouse setting in Buellton. Chatting to the staff at the various locations we visited, I learned that the first commercial vineyards were planted here in the 1970’s: the Cabernet Sauvignon and Chardonnay favoured back in the day have been replaced for the most part by better-suited Syrah, Sangiovese, Sauvignon Blanc and white Rhône varieties.

As luck would have it, our first-time foray into Ballard Canyon wine country was nicely topped off by a chance encounter. As we toured around the countryside looking for photo opportunities, we passed a distinctive windmill and some good-looking vines, complete with handy grape variety signage. An older man was carefully driving a tractor up and down the vines. Seeing us watching with interest, he stepped down from his cab at the end of a row and introduced himself: it was none other than Larry Saarloos himself.

It was kismet: we'd tasted the wines, gobbled the cup cakes, met Keith Saarloos at the WBC, and finally, had a delightful and informative conversation with his father, a man who was charm personified. Our Ballard Canyon, Syrah-centric experience was complete.

*An AVA (American Viticultural Area) is a federally-recognised US wine region that is climatically and geologically unique. Unlike France's AOP areas, the AVA designation does not restrict which grapes can be grown, nor is there a governing body that examines the overall quality of wines produced. In the US, for a wine to be labelled using an AVA name, a minimum 85% of its grapes must have been grown within the stated place of origin.

** There are 18 vineyard members of the Ballard Canyon Winegrowers Alliance, nine of which produce and bottle wine.

I got an email out of the blue: a PR person was offering to send me a bottle of Mas Belles Eaux 2014 rosé wine to review. Which was kind of them, but I don't do that much in the way of wine reviewing, and I knew I'd struggle to write a blog post about just one bottle, in which case, I'd feel loathe to accept it (disclaimer: I'm a wine PR person, so I know how it works. I write the occasional blog post, mainly to keep my hand in and partly for fun: if someone offers me samples, I figure they're hoping for some kind of feedback and I'm usually happy to oblige, so long as there's actually something good to be said. If it's bad, or a non-story, I don't bother). 

So I accepted the proposed bottle but asked if I could also visit the domaine of the same name: it's a winery I've often driven past (it's on the road leading out of Pézenas, towards Roujan) and always meant to stop at, but somehow never did. It's set back from the road so you can't see what's on offer, which is too bad, because if you venture in, it's very pleasant (there's a clean, light, modern tasting room and a warm, English-speaking welcome for tourists, so it's well-worth poking your nose in).  

Mas Belles Eaux technical director Cédric Loiseau was on hand the day I visited, and  although I'd made it clear I didn't expect any special treatment, he kindly took the time to drive me around the estate's 75-odd hectares of vines from which they make their AOC Languedoc- Pézenas and IGP Pays d'Oc wines.

As we toured, Cédric explained various points of interest: newly planted vines and freshly-prepared plots (more Syrah was going in, partly to respond the booming rosé market); some parcels that had been pulled up and replanted, others that had been swapped with a friendly neighbour; some ancient Carignan vines that had been effectively kick-started by drastic cutting at the base of the vine (a technique called recépage); Bourboulenc trunks onto which Clairette had been grafted, and similarly, Grenache grafted onto Cinsault (M. Loiseau is a fan of this technique because it makes it possible to swap one grape variety for another without pulling up existing vines or having to replant and wait for young vines to develop from scratch).

We had a thought-provoking conversation about why the estate is not formally certified as organic, even though many of their farming procedures would qualify as such (apparently they like to retain some flexibility in the choices available to them, in the event of a viticultural crisis), and then a look at the custom-built, gravity-driven winery.

One of the distinguishing features of the wines of Mas Belles Eaux is that the grapes spend comparatively long periods of time in tank (35 – 50 days is not unheard of) which helps round out the tannic structure and results in rich, powerful yet elegant wines (the top of the range Sainte Hélène and Carmin cuvées are very good examples of this).

After talking about wine, it was time to try some: we stepped into the tasting room and worked our way through a series of bottles, all of which were clean, well-made and pleasurable. My favourites were the single varietal wines (only made in years when the quality of the fruit justifies bottling it as a standalone wine rather than incorporating it into a blend).

These mono-cépages wines are fantastic value: at the cellar door, they go for €7.50 a bottle, or a three-pack for €19.95. They're beautifully made and full of the complex, distinctive flavours and aromas specific to certain individual grapes: the 2011 Mourvèdre is redolent of red fruit and Parma violets, with lovely supple tannins, the Grenache is full of velvety blackcurrants and blackberries, while the 2009 Carignan is a delicious mix of peppery menthol and cigar box aromas, with refreshing acidity and great balance – apparently these grapes undergo 40 – 45 days in tank, which might go some way to explain their outstanding expressiveness.

Discovering these particular wines made me rather pleased (I love it when the time and energy invested on both sides results in a win), but the good news is that there's a fairly ambitious programme of cultural events planned for Mas Belles Eaux for the 2015 season, which means locals and tourists have an excuse (as if one were needed) to put their heads in and enjoy the wines in an informal context, which is probably less daunting for most people than rocking up for a formal tasting.

I've detailed some of the programme highlights below, but for more details, see their website or call them on 04 67 09 30 96. Those who don't live within driving distance can take heart, too: Mas Belles Eaux has an e-boutique (shipping within France only; not all wines are available online).  

WINE EVENTS AT MAS BELLES EAUX, SUMMER 2015

May 24: Vins, Vignes et Terroirs (an 8 km wine walk around the Caux area)

May 29: Le vin Bourru (a play, and part of the “Festival Molière dans tous ses éclats”). Food and wine available.

Wednesday evenings, from 7pm: Les Nocturnes (wine tasting and tapas in the grounds of the domaine, from 10/6/2015 to 16/9/2015 inclusive

June 13: L’incroyable pique-nique (a picnic with music and entertainment). From 11.30am, reservations at the Pézenas tourist office

July 7: wine tasting and music evening, from 9pm onwards, as part of the Printival Boby Lapointe celebrations (call 06 72 32 54 12 or email [email protected]

August 18: an evening with a screening of a Harold Lloyd film plus music and wine

Saturdays, from April 25 through to December: cooking lessons with chef Anne de Ravel (price 65 €/ person). Prepare and then enjoy a three- or four-course meal with Mas Belles Eaux wines.

In January, I got an unexpected invitation from the Duché d’Uzès*, via Inter-Rhône* (many thanks to both, and there, that's the disclosure bit done too).

Would I like to go to the town of Uzès to taste their wines and enjoy some of the festivities associated with their annual Truffle Weekend (Fête de la Truffe)?

It seemed churlish to say no, so I said yes please instead.

And that's how I came to find myself one chilly Friday night at a pleasantly informal event, surrounded by men of a certain age wearing odd costumes, and others dressed normally, sampling various wines and eating oysters and truffle-infused snacks.

I'll be honest: it was hard at times to tell one wine from another. That's the thing with appellations, or indeed producers, and wines: there are so damn many of them and sometimes (whisper it) they do taste really quite similar. In fact, when it comes to appellations, you might expect them to taste similar, because they're made to a specific set of rules and regulations.

And that's why, when confronted by something like this (ie. many bottles of unknown wines, made by unknown people in an area I'm not 100% familiar with) I tend to ask someone who SHOULD know, what they'd suggest as a starting point.

Happily, I ran into Dutch winegrower team Angélique and Rutger Grijseels of Château de Panery. They're nice folk who sometimes take part in my Outsiders and Friends tasting events, so I figured I'd pick their brains.

Angélique's suggestion was right on the money. Try Domaine de Roux, she said. So we did, and delightful it was. Wines with a lightness of touch, and my favourite (Les Rocals) was a crazy, value-for-money price of 6.50 euros ex-cellar. Nuts.

And the chap presenting it, who'd taken over from his father, was as sweet, humble and pleasant as you could wish a winegrower to be.

I tried a lot of other wines but although they were all perfectly well made, I  couldn't work up as much enthusiasm for them after such a great start, so after a while, I focused on the characters in the room instead.

There were quite a few.

After a night in a truly delightful chambre d'hôte (La Maison de la Bourgade: a delicious mix of cosy, classy, contemporary and stylish) it was time for the Saturday morning market in the central square of Uzès, called the Place aux Herbes.

It was a riot of colour and aromas, and possibly all the more so as this was THE weekend of the truffle, so everyone was pushing the proverbial boat right out. The photos do it more justice than my prose would, so go ahead, feast your eyes on the food porn.

So, a date for your diaries, south of France food and wine fans: third weekend of January. The place to be is Uzès. Look out for the stall run by a nun who sells tiny pots of dried tomato and olive oil spread, and the like.

If you can get a room at the Maison de la Bourgade, I heartily recommend it (they organise their own truffle and wine dinner for guests staying that weekend) but you'll need to book early.

If you want to taste wines, there are two events to watch out for: the Friday night, informal, breeze around the room-style tasting at the former Bishop's Residence in the centre of town, or the more dressy, sit-down dinner on the Saturday (same venue, different vibe). Both are open to the general public; look for booking details online nearer the time.

Of course you can visit Uzès market any time of year. Saturdays and Wednesdays are market days (Saturday being the bigger deal, apparently), and Envie de Terroirs fine food store and resturant is good for lunch or tasty foodie souvenirs (again, book your table early).

After the market, there are plenty of charming small boutiques, wine shops, tea rooms (cosy Chez Cerise was recommended to me for its open fire and home-made cakes, and it was indeed terrific) in which to while away the rest of the day. 

I'd actually urge you to visit out of season if you can, as high summer sees Uzès overrun by the chinos and panama hat brigade, but if you don't have the choice, just go anyway. It's pretty sweet.

And late at night, it's positively romantic.