A sip, just a taste; of Bordeaux

Two envelopes were waiting on our bedside table last night when we returned home after having dinner with Julie’s friend Antonio.  They were our train tickets to Toulouse, and the departure time was maybe a little sooner than we had hoped for, which made for a rushed morning.

We scurried down to the lobby: Julie to check out, while I asked the concierge for the best subway route to the train station. “Do we have enough time?” I asked. The concierge nodded “just enough”. I went over to the counter to see if Julie was finished and told her the news. I stood by our bags for a few moments, anxiously glancing at my watch, estimating the time for us to cross the street, get down in the metro and then onto the subway.  I glanced over to Julie who now looked somewhat panicked and said “taxi?”. I looked the other way to the concierge who nodded in agreement and started for the door to hail us a taxi. [Traveler tip: taxis in France start their meters at the time of being called to come get you, not when you physically get in the vehicle like North America.]  Mid-morning Paris traffic wasn’t bad, and the voyage above-ground provided us some new sights. Our energetic driver nosed his way through what traffic there was and the €10 fare was easily worth it to get us to Montparnasse station on time.

I have longed to travel via high-speed train, and today I would experience the Tay Jay Vay, or Train de Grande Vitesse [TGV].

Surprisingly there is no direct high-speed train from Paris to Toulouse, so we had a stopover in Bordeaux, which is good because it was an early victim to trip planning culling.

Bordeaux is…Bordeaux is lovely. It is like it stepped out of a Bombardier train commercial as sleek-looking trams glide past stately old buildings with just the sound of a dinging bell.  Check out their tourism website - http://www.bordeaux-tourisme.com/index_uk.html or Lonely Planet’s quick intro - http://www.lonelyplanet.com/france/southwestern-france/bordeaux.  We stashed our luggage in storage lockers at the train station (the only time we found this service during our trip) and hopped onto one of these new trams to the center of town.  And it was here, at Place de la Bourse with its large fountain with rose-tinted water (I’m guessing to pay tribute to wine) where we descended from the tram and were taken aback at the sight before us, even on this dreary, rainy day.

Julie had a destination for us, a restaurant for lunch. And in France, lunch can last a long time, but then it is over and you missed it, so we had to hustle. We walked along the riverfront Richelieu Quay then through the Porte Cailhau that was built at the end of the 15th century, and where Cafe Chez Fred has a prime spot with a grand view of the old gate.

We found our targeted restaurant down one of many car-free narrow streets. Le Cheverus cafe was lively during the lunch hour and our young waiter’s broken English was better than my broken French so we managed to get Julie a dairy-free meal. And what a meal it was! The tajine de poulet au citron was a satisfying meal served in a clay dish with a tall, conical lid that the waiter dramatically removed upon delivery.

After lunch a drizzle accompanied us as we strolled south end to north through the old city. At the end we were surprised to see a midway [we shouldn’t have been – it’s a school holiday this week]. The Ferris wheel lured Julie in and we took a ride. It was a great way to see over the city without climbing the stairs in the cathedral’s bell tower!

After that bit of excitement, we had time for a glass of wine at the very nice sampling shop Maison du Vin. I asked to try a “fort” wine, and the 2010 Margaux did not disappoint at all; providing all of the flavours and textures of what one imagines a good wine should embody.  Too bad I had to swig the last half as we had to catch the tram back to the train station.