Bordeaux

November 2-8

After Paris, we were excited to be somewhere a little smaller, a little quieter, and a little more chill--Bordeaux was absolutely perfect. We had booked our cat sit here months ago and didn't know what to expect. We had no idea how much we would love the city.

We arrived in Bordeaux on Sunday night, but did not start our cat sit until Tuesday, so we were in a hotel for a couple of nights. After Paris, we were very excited to have a clean, comfortable place to sleep! We were staying right in the heart of Bordeaux, about a block away from the Opera House which marks city center. That evening, we went to an amazing little Udon shop around the corner from the hotel, then called it an early night.

The next day, we met with Bonnie, our Trusted Housesitters host, and her two tiny and adorable cats, Kate and Pippa. We got to the city early so we could go over to the apartment and get the lay of the land with our host in person, as well as meet the cats with Bonnie there. Bonnie is without a doubt one of the kindest and most generous humans we have met so far in our travels. An expat whose last US home was in Portland, we quickly bonded over our travel adventures and ended up sitting and chatting with her for about two hours on her couch. She told us that Bordeaux chose her--she had only visited here a couple of times before moving, but she knew it was her home. After our week in the city, we completely understand why!

After leaving Bonnie's apartment, we wandered around her neighborhood a bit then found a place for lunch on the street just across from the riverfront. Even in November, most places have outdoor seating--this is mostly for smokers, who can no longer smoke inside the restaurants, but is a huge plus for us, especially when the weather is nice. In our short time in France, I have quickly fallen absolutely in love with French food and French attitudes towards food. So many of the meals I have eaten here have been among the best of my life, and this lunch was no exception. Both of us ordered the Plat du jour, which is the daily lunch special. This started with a shrimp salad that we shared, then Cal ordered the braised leg of lamb while I got the chicken, which was accompanied by a rich cheese sauce. None of these dishes sound particularly groundbreaking, but there is something about the way the French approach food that makes even simple things absolutely delicious. Each dish is presented as a miniature work of art, and invites you to appreciate the meal not just visually and by taste, but also for its intentionality. Our meals were accompanied with Campari Spritzes and the luxury of time--we sat out for about an hour and a half, just enjoying our food and the views.

The next day we moved into Bonnie's apartment and immediately fell in love with Kate and Pippa. You can think of these cats a bit like myself and Calvin--Kate is outgoing and immediately wants your attention and affection, while Pippa takes her time to warm up to you before she comes in for a snuggle. They are also TINY compared to our giant Lando back home, which made their long sessions on our laps perfectly comfortable.

The apartment is located just off the Rue de Notre Dame, which is an amazing part of the city. Each direction had a distinct character. North lay narrow but long cobbled streets, lined with many antique and vintage stores, as well as the grocery store and boulangerie we claimed as our home bases. East of us was the river, with its generous promenade to walk along. South was the proper city center, crowned with the enormous opera hall, beyond which an intricate spiderweb of the old town's city streets spread. West of us was the city park, with a meandering stream and lush gardens begging for the picnic we happily indulged in. We spent the afternoon of our first day in our new digs just exploring the area, wandering without a purpose in all of these directions. I ended up finding a great wool and cashmere sweater at the vintage store down the street for just 2 euro! As we wandered, we also stumbled upon a little market selling old books, maps, and postcards. Our wandering helped us get the lay of the land and discover places we wanted to revisit later on in our stay.

St. Emilion

The next day, on the recommendation of Bonnie and my aunts who visited the region earlier this year (hi Carrie and Corina!), we visited the nearby town of St. Emilion. The train is about half an hour from Bordeaux, and we arrived at 10:30, walking up into the quiet city through the vineyards and incredible views. The trek from trainstop to town is tucked in the valley between two stretching hills, both of which are dotted with a series of caves and tunnels we would later come to recognize as one of the area's most defining features. At time of day, it really felt like we had the city to ourselves--there were a few other visitors who stepped off the train with us, but as we wove our way through the narrow streets and steep hills, we got to watch the town wake up at a luxurious late morning hour and open its shops with a private view.

Renowned for its regional winemaking, the town is also centered around a monolithic church from the 1100s. The church is privately owned and is only visitable with a guided tour. This was absolutely one of our favorite things we have done so far on our trip--our guide was knowledgeable and interesting, and over the course of just over an hour took us through the cave believed to be where St. Emilion himself spent his hermatage, the chapel adorned with 11th century frescos that also spent a brief time as a grocery store, the underground crypt where local nobles were buried alongside precious relics, and finally the church itself. As a monolith, the church was entirely carved out of the mountainside where it resides. It is the largest underground church in Europe, and it is absolutely incredible to see how people almost 1000 years ago were able to make such an incredible place with simple hand tools. The church was built to host and draw pilgrims to the site of St. Emilion, but today few visitors to the town know about the amazing site that sits alongside the incredible wine.

After our tour, we wandered back up the streets to find a place for lunch, testing our mettle by ascending the treacherous so-called "staircases" tucked into the back alleys of the town. These staircases are better described as rough-hewn cobbled ankle-breakers, paved with the ballast stones from the many ships that used to call the now-dismantled port their berth. We stumbled upon Lard et Bouchon, which is underground in an old wine cave. The restaurant had a couple other groups seated--all French--but was mostly empty. The waiter himself even commented that the town "felt empty today." We considered ourselves incredibly lucky, as not only did we have the town almost completely to ourselves, but now we had this amazing lunch experience with incredibly personalized service. Cal and I split the entree--a pumpkin soup with seared scallops topped with crunchy rock salt. For our main, Cal ordered bacon-wrapped sea bass and I got the seared duck breast. Finally, dessert--a pavlova accompanied with mango and passionfruit. I have never in my life been tempted to order a pavlova--meringue has never appealed to me--but this was absolutely one of the best desserts I have ever had. The sweet meringue was balanced by the tart fruit and creamy fresh whipped cream. Perfection.

From lunch, we walked a little further up the road to visit a winery that uses old limestone quarries to store their wine. When limestone mining became less widespread in France due to the dangers of the process, several wineries began using the caves as a natural cellar due to their perfectly stable humidity and temperature for storing wine. You can visit the caves below for free, and when we walked inside the empty shop the woman at the desk immediately pointed us in the direction of the multiple staircases tunneling into the earth and let us explore on our own. The caves below were massive, spanning far past the boundaries of the tasting rooms above ground, across the road from the shop, and under neighboring buildings. Filled with thousands of bottles, as well as yet-to-be bottled barrels, the walls of these caves displayed a variety of marks. There were large, flat cuts from modern stone saws removing enormous blocks, the scars from picks and axes swung by hand which came before those, and natural crannies carved by the water that started these mines far before humans were around. Many bottles had a fine dusting of mold or fungus from the climate in the caves, those colonies growing most heartily around the scattered electric lights which illuminate and cast shadows in equal measure. Every so often, an enterprising miner gone artist had carved a bas relief of a wine god or scene of a festival, literally setting in stone what this place had been repurposed into. It felt like being in an Indiana Jones movie, exploring a forgotten tomb in the hunt for buried treasure.

After our adventure below the streets, we found a nearby wine shop where we could do a tasting and get to know the region's varietals better. Cal and I have been fortunate in our lives to be exposed to a lot a great wine (thank you, Walla Walla), but it was really interesting to do a tasting in a place with so much history, as well as such a different approach to wine. For instance, in France, very few wines are produced to be drunk immediately. Whereas in Washington it is typical to drink a wine the year it is released, the woman who ran our tasting told us that she rarely drinks a wine that is less than 10 years old (though she emphasized the importance of following your own palate, and just drinking what you like, which we appreciated). She also taught us about the importance of terroir--the environment and literal soil in which the grapes are grown--to the taste and overall effect of the wine. We knew about this concept going in, but it is completely different to hear about it from someone from the region, who has dedicated her life to understanding the nuances of local wines. It was difficult to wrap our heads around the notion that the exact type of grape used is of much less concern than the soil in which it is grown. We tried 4 wines--3 from St. Emilion, 1 from nearby Pomerol, which is an even smaller region. All were, of course, fabulous.

From here, we wandered back down to the main square, right in front of the church, with a brief stop to sample a canelé--custardy not-quite-baked interior batter coated with an almost-burnt dark caramel sugar shell. Mmm. We sat in the square and ordered glasses of wine, enjoying the beautiful sites and quiet atmosphere until it began to rain and gust (knocking over a few unfortunate wine glasses) and we headed back down to the train station to return to Bordeaux. Visiting beautiful St. Emilion was absolutely a highlight of our stay in the region, and we are so happy to have had such an intimate visit with the town.

Back In Bordeaux

The rest of our time in Bordeaux was quiet and lovely. We let ourselves wander a lot, finding new routes between the beautiful buildings and cozy squares. We went to the Cinema Utopia, a movie theater that is built from the remains of an old church. There we sat amidst an afternoon crowd five decades our senior and watched a modern black and white adaptation of "The Stranger" by Albert Camus, nodding along to the dulcet tones of French and trying to stamp down the desire for English subtitles. We are happy to report that we mostly understood what happened! Mostly! Then, we sat at a nearby cafe and discussed existentialism over a drink--by far the Frenchest we have ever been.

We went to a restaurant called "Canard Street" (Duck Street) and ordered their "The Best of Duck to Share" which included breast, confit leg, gizzards (surprisingly delicious and tender), and foie gras, along with a mountain of crispy frites. We both agreed that the confit was the best of the best of the duck, with the gizzards a close second best of the best of the duck.

The following day we set out with our phones pointing the way toward the Marché des Capucins, a daily market in the middle of town that is also my new forever happy place. We walked through stalls stacked with beautiful produce, stopping to look at huge plump brussels sprouts perfectly in season, and the delicate spirals of boutique green and purple cauliflower. We passed incredible butcher stands selling whole chickens (heads intact!) and yet-to-be cut slabs of steak. We more smelled than looked at the stinky and lovely fromageries, blindly choosing the first pronounceable firm cheese we could find. Calvin got caught up at a seafood stand after discovering a long-sought after white whale--a school of fried smelt fish served in a cone of newspaper which he had dreamed of since last eating this snack in our previous Europe adventure. I bought a few more things to make dinner that night (I have truly missed cooking during this trip), and then we sat in the middle of the market and had oysters and wine. Then, we finished out the day with a tasting at a local cellar--Max Bordeaux--to pick out some wine to send back home to my Aunt Carrie. Hopefully it arrives to be enjoyed at Thanksgiving, since we won't be there this year!

Our final day in Bordeaux we had a late night flight, so we spent the day doing laundry, cuddling with the cats, packing, and resting up for our next few busy days in Rome. For the few days we were there, Bordeaux started to really feel like home. We had a cozy apartment, snuggly kitties, and beautiful sights around us. The city was just as beautiful as Paris, but far more laid back and approachable. We loved discovering the city little by little, and we would happily return to discover more.