Bordeaux?  All I have to say is, “meh.”  But who needs a tranquilizer dart?  We’ll get to that spaz in a little bit.

More like Bordon’t.

I really don’t have a lot to say about Bordeaux.  This is a perfect example of why I don’t like to think too much about a destination before arriving.  Kevin said that we would be doing wine tastings in this famous city, so I had come up with all these images of us sitting at beautiful vineyards, sipping wine, and nibbling on delicious local cheeses and crackers.  Well, that’s not exactly how things played out.

We woke up with the ship already docked in the middle of downtown.  During the night, we had traveled from the Atlantic Ocean, entered the Gironde Estuary, ultimately ending up on the Garonne River, the banks upon which the city sits.  It was odd to be docked so close to the limestone buildings that make up the downtown core.  From our balcony we could see and hear people on the sidewalk below, close enough, in fact, that we could pick out parts of individual conversations.  Downtown would have to wait until the next day, however; busses were waiting below to shuttle us off to our first winery.

Once you leave the downtown area, Bordeaux quickly becomes somewhat unsightly…full of industrial sites and dumpy residences. [As Kevin reads that last sentence, I know I’ll hear, “Baby, you’re terrible…it wasn’t that bad!  You’re so nitpicky!”]. It wasn’t until we got well outside the city limits that things start to get pretty again.  Rolling green hills, dotted with small farms, poplar and pine groves, and rows of neatly pruned grape vines can be seen, and eventually you’re treated to views of gorgeous Chateaus and their vineyards.  Our bus dropped us off at our first winery, Chateau De Ferrand.

This winery was gorgeous.  Old limestone architecture combined with contemporary steel and glass to produce a stunning site.  I was so excited to start our wine journey!  After having a short tour of the facility, we were taken to the tasting room where we tried our first two wines….wait, no, our only two wines.  What?  What kind of tasting is that?  Do you only produce two types of wine?  Oh, and don’t even tell me I can pour the remainder of your paltry one ounce pour in the dump bucket; I’m sucking down every drop you’re giving me, thank you very much!  And as I licked the last drop out of my wine glass, realizing that this wine wasn’t even that good, the disappointment started to set in.  After Kevin then told me that this was the only winery we would be visiting that day, the tour was dead to me.

After leaving the vineyard, our bus took us to the village of St. Emilion where we did a tour of the town.  Everything was quaint and beautiful, but didn’t really hold my attention.  Since my brain wasn’t fully engaged, only a portion of it was devoted to the tour; the rest of it was focused on the tour’s participants and their quirks.

Cracky and Snotty.

Kevin keeps reminding me that his co-workers and his mother read these blog posts, so I need to watch what I say.  He’s cringed at a couple of things I’ve written, but for the most part, I think I’ve done well at keeping things fairly PG…ok, maybe PG-13.  In order to keep things somewhat nice, I’ll only talk about two people from the tour.

Our tour guide on our first day in Bordeaux was the aforementioned person in desperate need of a tranquiler dart.  Her name was Christiane, and she’s lived in the Bordeaux area all of her life.  She greeted us at the bus, dressed in a bright red skirt, a shirt with strawberries printed all over it, and a big visor that was nestled into her gray hair that looked like it was styled utilizing an electrical outlet. Christiane’s English was difficult and painful to listen to.  As she talked, she would constantly search for the correct words to use, filling the pauses with drawn out  “ummmms”, “ahhhhhs”, and “ohhhhs”, followed with “Allo!” or “Voilá!” after she finished her sentence.  She also couldn’t stay on one thought for very long; she switched topics so frequently that she was incredibly hard to follow.  I found myself thinking “Oh, that’s interesting about that Chateau….wait, what did she just say about that cat?  Hold on, why is she talking about flowers in the field now, what happened to the cat?  Ok, now she’s switched to the bike tours she does.”  I stopped calling her Christiane and gave her the name Madame Cracky McFrenchFry.

We continued to follow Cracky as she darted from place to place, giving us bits of stories and random thoughts.  I stopped listening to her and just started watching everyone else watching her.  Most faces were focused, eyebrows furrowed, as they tried to follow what she was saying.  I also noticed eye rolls, grimaces, curled lips, and glazed eyes as I scanned the faces in the group.  I didn’t see too many smiles, however….except for one woman in the group that always walks around with some strange grin on her face.  I’ve wondered if that woman is on some psychotropic that’s making her a little too happy, or maybe she’s had some bad facial plastic surgery, and one side was pulled tighter than the other.  Maybe it’s both.

The other passenger that was on my radar must’ve had a sinus infection or was suffering from really bad nasal allergies.  Every couple of minutes he would suck snot from his sinuses into his throat and swallow.  In addition to the normal disgusting sound this makes, he made an odd whistling noise as he did it.  Once I heard it, I couldn’t unhear it, and it followed me for the entire tour.  I tried not to stand anywhere near him, but it seemed like he had locked onto me and was determined to stand next to me any time we changed positions.  On the bus, Kevin would laugh at me as I cringed every time he sucked one back.  Barf.

Oh don’t worry, she’ll understand.

Our second day in Bordeaux consisted mostly of shopping in the downtown area.  All of the buildings in this area are made from a light yellowish limestone that you’ll see all over the region, and has typical French architecture.  Shops abound, and you can find just about anything you’re looking for.  Overall, it’s really cute, but it doesn’t compare to Paris.  On the plus side, it’s not as busy and crowded.

We took a break from shopping and grabbed a little croissant and pastry.  The woman at the counter didn’t speak English very well, which was obvious as soon as we said “bonjour.”  Normally, as soon as French people hear you greet them with an accent (especially people like Uncle Larry, who says “bonjour” like “ban-joor”), they will switch to English; this woman didn’t.  Instead of simplifying his requests, Larry just continued talking to her like she understood every word he was saying.  Of course, Larry was asking for her to do something very specific, and as soon as I saw the look of confusion on her face and heard Larry just repeat the same question, I had to b-line it out of the cafe.  As I was teasing Larry about this when he got to the table, he said, “Oh, she eventually understood what I was saying.  She took my money, didn’t she?”

Seriously, just two?

After shopping, our bus whisked us off to another winery in the Medoc region.  Just like the previous day, the vineyard was very nice, and just like the previous day, we got two lousy tastings of wine that was obviously not some of their better offerings.  What’s with this?  I’ve had much better wine tastings at BevMo.  Whatever…the four of us got back on the bus, passed the dozens of other wineries in the area that I’m sure give you decent pours, got back to the ship and went to one of the wonderful restaurants onboard and had plenty of good wine…too much, in fact.