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Oh, champagne. Already one of the great loves of my life it now has an even deeper niche carved into my heart.
The train journey from London was a breeze with a slight detour in Paris between stations thanks for some rather vague directions from the station information booth. Luckily I had enough transit time to accommodate a few extra blocks and as luck would have it, just as I was getting stressed and convinced that I would miss my next train I happened upon a local boulangerie still open at that hour of day. Fortified by the knowledge that I now had quiche and a canelle to eat in case of emergency, I turned the corner and there was the station with plenty of time still to spare.
I arrived in Reims late Tuesday evening where it was still very warm and the streets were full of people dining late and enjoying the weather. Having been assured by the hotel staff that it was safe to do so I went for a late night run around a nearby park which proved ideal to loosen me up after having been inside for a couple of days. The pool was closed for the night (damn) so I chilled in a bath and congratulated myself on having had an alcohol free day before I commenced champagne tasting. Amongst this reverie I did however, manage to give myself momentary concern about having signed myself up for a tour. Images flashed before me – a large bus full of loud people turning up at the hotel, a massive group of questionably dressed first time travellers chasing a tour guide holding a large sign, rote commentary about the region and cheap champagne being served because it was such a large group. “Oh Marie” I asked, “What have we done?”. Apologies to Marie - I should have known better.
After a minor hiccup getting picked up, our lovely tour guide zipped back in our little people mover to collect me and deliver me into the waiting arms of my fellow travellers and host at Veuve Cliquot. We were taken through the crayeres (huge caves) and tunnels that honeycomb the ground under the city, seeing thousands of bottles patiently aging and hearing about the history of what I had assumed were purpose built cellars. The crayeres were instead formed as a result of the Roman’s mining the chalky stone beneath the city to build with it. Everywhere we went we saw the same structures – huge cavernous spaces with tiny holes at the top where the stone was lifted out. They are connected to create a honeycomb of tunnels that now house millions of bottles of champagne and became schools, hospitals and offices as the community sheltered from bombing that destroyed 80% of the city in World War I. Houses like Moet have purpose built tunnels in the absence of crayeres, all sharing a similar atmosphere and seeming to go on for ever.
During the rest of that day and the next we drove across the countryside seeing small villages and visiting tiny family run vineyards and wineries as well as cooperatives where the champagne is made using the grapes from across a community. We also went to the main Reims cathedral and the church where Dom Perignon and Dom Ruinart are buried, both of which were interesting as well as being valuable as alcohol free segues between tastings. After having been left at the hotel the first morning, I was considered equivalent to Kevin in the “Home Alone” movies with the standing joke being to make sure that I was in the car everywhere we went.It was also lovely to hear one of the vignerons speak about how the desire to create something truly unique and beautiful is what motivates the three generations running their business. “If we can make money as well, that is good.” We all came away with a greater appreciation for what lies within the bottle as the politics and regulations that govern champagne production were explained to us, as well as the production process, from their various perspectives.
Lunch was an experience in itself with beautiful tables laid out for us, three course meals and a different champagne matched to each course. This was neatly slotted in between the morning and afternoon champagne house visits so by the end of the day we were still tidy, but definitely weary. The people on the tour were lovely and in particular I spent time with a lovely couple from Adelaide celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary and a New Zealand yacht skipper working in the Mediterranean and his partner who is a flight attendant from the UK. When I say yacht, we’re talking one of the world’s largest with a very wealthy, but private owner who comes on board alongside in the Caymans or Monte Carlo or wherever there is sunshine and a suitable social occasion. Needless to say he was the envy of us all.
The bonus addition for this part of the trip came on my last day of being 50, compliments of Kit and Ryan (Brit and Kiwi respectively) who had organised a private tasting at Mumm after our tour finished. I had been slightly disappointed at not getting there as it is my favourite champagne, but I had had a wonderful time regardless and had no complaints. As we arrived back at my hotel to drop myself and the Adelaide couple off, Kit and Ryan asked if we would like to join them and apparently I slammed the car door shut in an instant before they had a chance to rethink the offer. Of course, more champagne was just what I needed at this point, but they were aware of the possible consequences.
The tasting was gorgeous and I came away with two bottles to add to the two beautiful bottles that I had already bought from small champagne houses. We all then decided to walk into town together to share another bottle before we parted because too much champagne is clearly just not enough. Miraculously I was still coherent and coordinated after this very trying day so I found myself a little place for dinner then went to see a light show at Reims’ main cathedral. It was in the style of White Night in Melbourne with intricate images projected onto the cathedral face and accompanying music setting the tone for the different scenes. I was thinking what a good view I had when I realised that the wall I was leaning on was the projection room so I really did have the best seat in the house.
My last morning in Champagne was my birthday and I had organised to go to Ruinart, the first champagne house to use the underground caves, renowned as one of the best houses to visit and also one of the best champagnes. A slip up by the hotel with the taxi saw me miss the first half hour again, but Ruinart were lovely and more concerned about me missing anything (another couple on the tour had a similar issue the previous day and were refused entry to the private tour they had booked at Moet). Ruinart was an intimate tour with a very small group accommodated in a beautifully decorated sitting room overlooking their gardens. The tasting was amazing, adding champagnes to my list that I will never get again, but I am so glad to have tasted them.
Ruinart visit over, now came the exciting bit. It turns out that taxis are hard to come by in Reims so I now have some sympathy for the hotel. I had allowed time to get back to the hotel, collect luggage and get to the train station factoring in that I would spend the morning drinking. As it turned out, I finished up walking (quite quickly) most of the 3.5km back to the hotel with the likelihood of me making the train diminishing all the way. I had a very pleasant young man (35) for company for most of it who was so charming that I cynically thought he was after something until he apologised for having to leave me to head in a different direction. I love the French. At this point a lady with a pram took over and managed to get me on to a bus, without which I would have missed the train. The driver let me ride for free, a 50 Euro not being all the cash that I had and also discharged me at a set of traffic lights which by my Google maps calculations was the closest we would come to my hotel. I ran through town (still not regretting the glasses of Ruinart) grabbed my luggage and headed for train station on foot, there being no time for a taxi. Luckily I knew the way and the layout of the station and just as I reached my seat the train pulled away from the station.
Another transit through Paris, this time complicated by them closing the line that connects the station so I had to head out of the city and circle around. By now I was carrying five bottles of champagne, a tagine from Morocco, Eideann’s birthday present and six weeks worth of clothes. Needless to day that the new route took me through stations with no lifts or escalators so I again appreciated the chivalry of French men who helped with my suitcases – offers they immediately regretted I suspect.
After a wonderful TGV ride from Paris to Tours Eideann met me at the train station, looking gorgeous and blissfully happy. She surprised me with a typically thoughtful collection of birthday gifts which included a beautiful shirt and silver coated chocolates. After a visit to a food market, she gave me a walking tour of Tours before a beautiful dinner and an arm in arm walk back past the main cathedral. It was so good to see her and to feel the energy coming off her. She drove us back to Cussay where her lovely bosses put us up in one of their gites (apartments) on the outskirts of this tiny village. More of that in my next update and in closing I would like to wish a belated, but VERY HAPPY birthday to Jill Earnshaw and Graydon Cannavan-Forbes and thank you all for the messages that I received.
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