Buckinghamshire vines

When we were away in St Emilion, we found that the founders of Laithwaites were also being intronised - probably about time too being as they've been importing from that part of France for decades. So I looked up Laithwaites on the web when we got back. I notice Tony Laithwaite is now eying up the Chilterns for potential vineyards, - he says here that he's looking for sites for sparkling wine vineyards.

Being as our grapes are doing so well in our back garden this year, I tend to agree with him.

New lodger arrived

Our new young French lodger arrived.

I'm at work, about to go off to a one o'clock meeting, a tad late, when the phone rings.

Our new lodger is standing outside our house, but I'm twenty miles away and husband has gone out. He's not answering the door - the house seems empty. I don't have his mobile number in the office here either, and he's probably gone out without it anyhow. Or he might be in the garden and not answering the door. I get lodger's mobile number, then put the phone down and ring son to get husband's mobile. Son doesn't answer. I facebook neighbours:

"Are you in? Can you help lodger who's just arrived at our empty house. I'm at work and husband is not in. Lodger is standing outside the house."

Within seconds, neighbour is round at house, just as husband arrives home from his voluntary work and lodger is welcomed into her new home.

Not an auspicious start but we've got great neighbours.

Grapes in Buckinghamshire

We've got a vine and it's grown grapes - lots of them, enough to make a bottle of wine, though enough to make only one bottle.

Husband on cold glass roof

Knock, knock, knockty, knock. Knock, knock, knock.

I could hear this noise, and vaguely wondered what husband was doing but he's such an active man, that I just thought he'd found something else to fix, mend, or bash. I blithely carried on marking assignments. Son came in.

"What's that knocking noise?"

I gave him my opinion and we started to chat about other things.

Twenty minutes later the door bell rings. Son goes to answer it and comes back creased up laughing.

Husband had exited the house via a bedroom window, but he hadn't told either of us of this intention. He'd closed the window behind him so he could paint behind it, but then he couldn't get it open again, and was stuck on the conservatory roof! He'd tried knocking to get our attention, but we ignored the poor man. So he'd had to semaphore down the hill to a neighbour in her yard to get her to come round, tell us the problem so we could open the window to let him back into the house.

Good communication we've got round here.

Trains and composted tickets

Home on a TGV (train à grande vitesse) - very fast non-stop train from Bordeaux to Paris. We remembered to composter our tickets as we entered the platform. Composter means to validate, and rather than having ticket inspectors at the barriers to the platforms, French (& Italians too) require you to compost your ticket at a yellow machine that stamps the time and date on it. If an inspector gets on the train and you haven't composté, you're in trouble. In Italy, you have to pay the total cost again. I don't know what they do in France, but don't want to find out.

Weather

A grey mist flattens the Garronne as we leave Bordeaux on our last day. We've been lucky with the weather: warm and sunny the first days, gradually cooling each day, but dry in St Emilion as we traipsed around dusty vineyards. On Tuesday in Bordeaux, there was a torrential downpour for over an hour, but we were dry in in the museum of Jean Moulin.

Where we stayed

We didn't stay in a hotel or hostel at Bordeaux but a micro flat of about 20 square metres. The main room about 3 x 4 metres was reached through a corridor that included a door to bathroom and passed through the kitchen - a cooker top, next to a sink over a fridge with a cupboard and microwave above.

It has what we need: sheets, towels, cutlery, crockery. Apparently there's a washing machine somewhere in the building. Breakfast is available for a a couple of euros as in Internet access. It's convenient for tram train or bus. If you stay for a month or more it's only 34 euros a day. Though it's twice as much for a short stay, it would be worth if for an academic or business conference.

Trams and transport in Bordeaux

I like this tram system here: blue, red and green lines traverse the city. They are frequent, inclusive, accessible, clean and easy to use. You can roll your buggy straight on. You see shopping trolleys, old people with crutches, mums with buggies, and even bikes. The tram stations are accessible wide spaces with long ramps at each end to the low platforms.

Tickets can be for one journey to be completed within an hour, including any changes of line (correspondance), or for a day, which is slightly cheaper than the option of buying a ticket for five journeys. Regulars can buy monthly or annual season tickets and there are reductions for students.

Bikes are another popular mode of transport we see all over the city - welcomed and encouraged rather than merely tolerated. A one-way street for example allows bikes in either direction. Pedestrianised areas also allow bikes with priorite aux pietons. The city bought 5000 bikes and allows free loan to Bordeaux residents and accredited students. Bikes now represent around 5% of movements within the urban Communaute of Bordeaux. There are cycle courses for older people and cycle taxis, and cycle tracks that run parallel to the tramways. It's not surprising they suggest Bordeaux is the capital of bilkes: capitale du velo.

Shopping and nos jours heureux

Bordeaux has the longest pedestrianised shopping mall in Europe. See photo. For other super photos of the town see this blog.

Rue St Catherine is full of shops both small and large: children's clothes, fashion, all of odd things, chocolate, DVDs. If you want to go shopping, come here.

We stopped at a DVD shop to look for a film that came out three years ago: Nos Jours Heureux, a comedy about a colonie de vacances - French summer holiday camps for kids. The film was a great hit in France in 2006 because so many have been to colonies de vacances. I was a monitrice myself in a colonie in the 1970s, so I wanted to see the film, which I cannot get in England and amazon.fr will not sell me. So we looked for it in this small shop. It wasn't there, but the manager thought Fnac might have it. Fnac is a big book shop, a bit like Foyles, renowned for similar qualities. So we asked at Fnac - a huge three or four storey establishment, but they didn't have it in stock this week. We bought some music CDS: Moustaki, Brassens, Graeme Allwright and Prévert. I'll play them in my new car, when it arrives.

Jean Moulin museum

The Jean Moulin museum at Bordeaux is dedicated to the resistance movement of the second world war. This museum is full of wartime memorabilia: helmets, uniforms, flags, bikes and motorcycles, photos and posters. Such posters exhort the French to do their duty and return to work. One poster warns them to turn in any English person or risk being shot!.

There are sad stories of bravery, like of the young man, Labat, who at 20 had joined the Resistance, escaped to England and was trained in codes and radio. He made a couple of successful forays back to France. IN 1942, he was parachuted in with radio transmitter equipment when he was caught and arrested. As the opened his bag containing the radio transmitter, he made his escape, shooting six Germans on the way. When he was trapped he took cyanide and died. How brave. How proud his father might have been. How sad his mother must have been.

People

In Bordeaux I see head-scarfed gypsies, the younger ones begging and the older gypsies instructing them - as if allocating them targets. And there are students and bikes too. The photograph is outside one of the university buildings, but we found at least four parts to the university in different parts of the city.

The cyclists are all over, even in the market, marche des Capucins, which people ride into , and load up shopping straight away, none of this nonsense about leaving the bike outside for somebody to nick while you stagger around with laden shopping baskets. Lots of women are on bikes. My husband notices them being more aggressive than men, demanding their rights to ride when a car or van blocks their path.

All races, white and various negro races, some very very black are here along with a few Asian women wearing Muslim head scarves. The Asian men are less obvious because they blend in with the dark haired brown eyed French men. The variety of races is revealed through the variety of restaurants: Moldovian, Japanese, a Spanish food stall in the market called

La Table de Don Quichotte with specialitiés de charcuteries du terroir Basque et Espagnol

This isn't just a city centre for the young and employed. Older retirees and mothers with buggies abound. I spoke to a mother with her 18 month old at a tram stop. She came from Portugal a couple of years ago when her husband got a permanent job here. In Portugal they'd both been working and still were struggling to pay for their house, but here in Bordeaux, she can stay at home and look after their children, and they can pay for their house here and still have enough money to send home to pay for their house in Portugal.

One morning in a cafe we realised that everyone there was playing lotto including a couple of African men and some middle aged women. You had to choose your numbers and your bet, then validate your card at a machine and wait to see if your numbers came up on a screen. People were coming in to meet each other. One woman knew the cafe manager and introduced her grown up son - it was a thriving meeting place.

At an oyster bar in the market, someone cycled in with a boy of perhaps six years - who ran into the bar and hugged the manager. Perhaps, being Wednesday it wasn't a school day because even more young children arrived with their family and went behind the bar.

On the sunny Wednesday afternoon in a park the Jeune-Sapeurs-Pompiers-33 passed - around 30 of them, men and women carrying each other in fireman's lifts. Thirty-three is the number of the department and I guess these were trainee firemen, but some of them looked as young as 12 or 13. May be they're volunteers.

On Tuesday, outside the museum, a whole class of teenagers passed chattering along the street. I don't know why or where they're going or where they're coming from, but they're classes, not just groups of youngsters aimlessly walking.

To Bordeaux

ON Monday we had time for only two tastings, the first at Chateau Corbin Michotte GCC, where we were welcomed with a wonderful array to taste - see photo.

We had lunch at Chateau La Bonnelle GC, then woefully departed to airport, from whence most of the party went home, but we stayed for a couple more days so we could explore Bordeaux.

Bordeaux seems pleasant, spacious, clean with few pigeons to dirty the buildings and not too much graffiti. I notice building work, lots of young people, trams and bicycles.

Ban des vendanges

On Sunday morning our bus left the hotel promptly. We all wore our suits & ties or posh frocks, best shoes and those already intronisés wore epitoge.

Epitoge is the shoulder wear made with rabbit fur, like a vestigial university hood, that those who are accepted (introniser) as members of the Jurade have the right to wear. See photo. 'Introniser' seems to relate to the word 'enthrone' so suggests something special about being welcomed as someone of importance.

That morning was the Parade of Jurats, candidates for intronisation and guests. Before the parade and ceremony we milled in the low morning sun. See video.

We admired the dress of representatives from other jurades too. See video.

Two of our party were to be intronised along with other important people who included several French politicians (such as Gérard Larcher) as well as film stars, atheletes and business men and women. This video shows more camera men than the politician who is walking behind the Jurade as the procession starts.

We processed to the church. The church service is well described by Anthony Laithwaite here. Then went on to the intronisation itself, which was in the Eglise Monolithe, a building cut into the rocks, that might have fallen down any minute if Calleja had started singing. The place was filled so we couldn't see very well but could read the Livret des intronisations, a booklet that gave a short biography of all the people being presented.
We had a champagne reception in the garden of the Salle des Dominicans - noted and minded the security guards for the important politician - then a lunch that included:

• Royal Saint-Emilion 2006
• Château Taureau 2005
• Château Lanbersace, Vieilles Vignes 2004
• Château La Bonnelle 2004
• Château Trapaud 2003
• Château Guillemin La Gaffeliere 2002
• Château Laroque 1999
• Château Chauvin 1998

Finally the Jurade went to the Tour du Roi to proclaim that the harvest was open. See video.

Vendange

The harvest, or vendange, is about to happen. You can see that the grapes have ripened and are nearly ready for harvesting, which will happen towards the second half of the month.

In this photo, you can see the low hanging grapes. They prune them earlier in the year, removing surplus foliage so that the grapes get enough sun, and also the strength of the plant goes down into the lower hanging fruit.

Meals

When I last went on this St Emilion trip, I worried about drinking too much and having a hangover. Friend assured me,

"You won't drink too much, but you may find you eat too much!"

He was right. We tasted wines, but only drank them with food. And there were some super meals. The first two days involved two five course means that included:

• starter/nibbles /soup
• fish course
• meat course
• cheese course
• desert
• coffee & canelles

Canelle are these tiny little rum and vanilla cakes, a speciality of Bordeaux. They served them warm.

Duck was often served. Sometimes we were given duck paté - the wonderful paté de fois gras. At our last meal on Monday lunchtime, our hosts served generous servings of this on tiny squares of toast. I could have dined on those alone, along with the St Emilion wine.

Here's an example menu from Saturday lunch at Chateau La Couspaude:

Foie gras de canard mi cuit entier aux figues gellee au lillet et fantaisie de fruits
***
Pave d'esturgeons au sauternes
***
Supreme de pintadeau au basilic
Pomme sarladaises
****
Salad panachee aux noix
***
Selection de 7 fromages affines et confiture de derises noires
****
Fruits glaces
****
Cafe , canelle

With four meals like that on Friday and Saturday - were we full!

Previous visits

The Jurade visitors are very grateful for the warm welcome that the vineyards and chateaux give us, so we offer our thanks. The Jurade has records of previous visits, and here is one of the regular visitors giving the speech of thanks. For 2008, see here.

Roses

Roses are planted at the end of each row of vines in some vineyards, not for prettification but because they warn of impending mildew. Any mildew infection attacks roses two weeks before the vines, so the viticulteur has time to take preventive measures such as spraying the vines.

Terroir

At Chateau La Gaffeliere, the young guide gave us some very informative talks on the history of the region and on the wine. He answered a question about what terroir is.

Terroir is a combination of soil, micro climate, exposure, altitude, attitude, and local conditions.

The French produce what the land is best at producing, and then look for the market, rather than look to see what people want and then treat the land perhaps with fertilizers, to produce the wine that's in demand.

Secondly, wine and terroir suits the food of the terroir. Thus a Sancerre wine goes with food in a hunting region, but St Emilion is not a hunting region. The wine from St Emilion goes well with the food of the terroir such as duck, like this duck with fruits in the photo.

There's a longer discussion at the wine anorak site here.

St Emilion wine

We're in the south-west of France, in Bordeaux and specifically in the region of St Emilion, the heart of the Bordeaux vine growing area, renowned for its red wines. We're on a long weekend, Thursday - Monday, wine tasting with a group of people from the York Chancellery of St Emilion, one of the two chancelleries of the Jurade in Great Britain.

St Emilion wine is made of a blend of merlot and cabernet franc grapes usually, sometimes with some cabernet sauvignon.

The first tasting on Friday morning was at the western most chateau Belregard-Figeac Grand Cru. It's tucked away in a suburban street and not easy to find. The brothers, Pueyo were fantastically welcoming and gave us many wines to taste, with nibbles to absorb the alcohol and clean the palette between tastings. There were of course also the spittoons, essential equipment for wine tasting (especially at ten o'clock in the morning). See photo

starting with a separate taste of the different assemblages of cepages: merlot and then cabinet franc. Then:

• 2007 mix
• 2005 Château LA FLEUR GARDEROSE AOC Saint Emilion
• 2005 Château BELREGARD-FIGEAC AOC Saint Emilion Grand Cru
• 2003 Château BELREGARD-FIGEAC AOC Saint Emilion Grand Cru yummy

Les messieurs Pueyo even sent us each away with a half bottle. How kind.

Concert at St Emilion

In the church at St Emilion, Eglise Collégial de Saint-Emilion, we heard a concert of opera sung by Maltese tenor Joseph Calleja, accompanied by Brian Schembi on the piano. Both musicians are to be honored at the Sunday Ban de Vendanges, i.e. the beginning of the grape harvest. On the Saturday evening, la Juarade de Saint-Emilion et le Conseil des Vins de Saint-Emilion presentent Calleja et Schembri at this récital lyrique.

The church is high, the benches in our zone sit six each side, rather too cosily,another eleven rows in the zone in front, more behind our zone, so it's a big church, and perhaps the acoustics are not the best.

Yet Calleja's voice is powerful. It fills the church. He's a powerful tenor. He's to sing nine pieces. I thought I'd record a piece on my digital recorder, then realised I'd set it to voice activate, which isn't a good idea for singing, because the silent parts that are so important to music, don't activate the recorder. The video (below) is better for sound, though you can't see much. There are official recordists present - perhaps people from Maltese television.

The pianist, Schembi has half a dozen Rachmaninoff preludes to play. How can he remember all these pieces by heart. Isn't Rachmaninoff tricky to play?

The programme includes:

G.F. Handel - Xerxes (HWW 40) Fronde tenere.. Ombra mai fu
C.W. Gluck - Orpheo ed Euridice - Che faro senza Euridice
Verdi - Macbeth - O Figli! Ah La Paterna Mano
S. Donaudy - Vaghissimma Sembianza
G. Puccini - Tosca - Recondita Armonia
G. Bizet - Les Pecheurs des Perles - Je crois entendre encore
G. Bizet - Carmen - La fleur que tu m'avis jetée
C. Gounod - Romeo et Juliette - L'Amour ...Ah lève toi soleil
J. Massenet - Le Cid - Ah! Tout est bien... Ô souverain

The audience demands several encores. It's been powerful, but not as lyrical as some.

Holiday dress

The weather in Bordeaux is still summery, so I should have brought

• a sarong for the hotel swimming pool and
  
• my 3/4 length jeans - it's warm enough for shorts.

Fortunately I've brought my new blue-green silk blouse, skirt and scarf. They were comfortable to travel in, didn't crease, are warm in the evening (we ate outside the first night in the village square - see photo), a cosy purple shawl, and for dressing down, my blue denim jacket.

Holiday - stressful start

The start of our trip was sufficiently stressful. You can imagine things going wrong; suppose a wheel/castor had come off my suitcase as I bounced it over the cobbles and me with a bad back at the moment. It didn't come off. But you don't remember what you must.

So as we left the house,

1. husband passes me my railcard, which I pop in my shoulder bag, not in its usual place in my purse.
   
2. We check I have the travel details in the front of the suitcase.
   
3. He had the train tickets.
   
4. We check our passports.
   

And we went. But it was half an hour later I realised I hadn't got my usual small handbag with my purse. So I had no English cash and no cards.

We used husband's mobile (mine's still hiding = lost) to call son and ask him to catch next train to Harrow on the Hill bringing my handbag. So he dashes out, and buys a ticket to Hemel Hempstead at three times the price! He'd just finished the wine we'd left and wasn't prepared for this complicated manoeuvre.

An hour later, big hugs to kind son, handbag and me reunited, son stands on platform to get train home again with an exciting book to read on statistical mechanics, while husband and I get the Metropolitan line straight into our London hotel and a bad night's sleep.

Singing neighbour

I wonder if you heard Handel's Messiah on the BBC Radio 3 prom last night, prom 68. Our neighbour's daughter was there, singing in the choir. We had all the radios in the house on. All three of us were listening to a splendid concert. The details are here but you have only a few days to listen.

Fire brigade visit

Three firemen have just visited our home with a fourth fireman sitting outside in a huge fire engine, waiting for them (or for an emergency call-out).

They gave our house a check, and advised us about:

• having working smoke alarms
• keeping doors closed at night and noted how well some of our old doors fit.
• discussing escape plans from the various rooms. I've thought about that - my mother always used to think about it as soon as we went away somewhere new or for a holiday. Now I worry about where my children are living: do they have an escape route from their college room, second floor flat, or rented house? I hope so.

Buckinghamshire Fire Service provided this check and an hour of advice free of charge, and
they gave us some super-duper smoke alarms, even fitted three of them and left the fourth for us to put up when we've fixed the plaster on the hall ceiling that fell down - see here. Although we already were well covered for smoke alarms, most have batteries that last only a year. The new ones are ten year alarms. Apparently you can get alarms that link together too, so if a fire started in the cellar when you're asleep in the attic, so you'd not hear the cellar alarm, it would link to the attic alarm, and set it off. Has anyone else heard of such alarms?

If you live in Buckinghamshire, get the check done. It's free and simple, they even come round on Sunday afternoons, not when you're out at work.

• By telephone – contact the Community Safety Team Administrator on 01296 744 477...
• By e-mail – cs@bucksfire.gov.uk

Details are at http://www.bucksfire.gov.uk/BucksFire/Community+Safety/Home+Fire+Risk+Checks/.

If you live somewhere else, ask the county fire services what they offer.

Emptying house

Daughter left this afternoon, back to university. We'll see her in November. The Austrian girls have gone. Son is still here another few days.

Remember, remember the third of September

Remember, remember the third of September
Umbrella, swastika and sickle
For that bit of daring
Old Hitler is swearing
He's got himself into a pickle.

This is what my mother wrote during the second world war. The third of September 1939 is the day that war was declared.

• The umbrella represents Chamberlain,who always had smartly rolled up umbrella
  
• The swastika represents the Nazis, and
• The sickle represents Russia.

Both my mother's big brothers, Jack and Bill, had to join the services and go to war, which saddened and worried their mother. In the first world war, her little brother, my mother's Uncle Willie on his last leave was admiring baby Jack in his pram. My grandmother, less patriotic perhaps than her brother, who'd come from Canada to join up, asked:

"If you were killed, would you think it were worth it?"

Uncle Willie looked at the baby and replied:

"If it means this little lad won't have to go to war, it'll be worth it."

Uncle Willie was killed in WW1, and Uncle Jack had to join up in WW2 - so Uncle Willie's sacrifice wasn't worth it.