On
two of my trips to France I experience a strike of Air France pilots.
Fortunately I had arrived in country both times. It was on the second strike
when biking the wine country that I got quite peeved at my roommate who got
spastic over the strike. I listened to her fuss one time to many when short of
yelling at her I told her I didn’t want to hear a thing more about it. There
was absolutely nothing we could do until we were ready to leave anyway. And
sure enough when several days later we arrived in Bordeaux we all had been
rerouted home on other airlines.
Because disease will strike rose bushes before they attack grape vines,
all the vineyards in Bordeaux had a rose bush at the end of each row of
grapevines in the vineyards. The roses were a colorful addition and a safety
precaution for the growers..
To get
to where we wanted to be we had to cross Archachon Bay. The fellows formed a
chain to pass the bikes down several steps to
be boarded onto a small boat. It
was a rather rough water day so all the bikes were securely lashed down before
we boarded another but larger boat for the twenty minute crossing. Disembarking
at the end of a very long pier we walked the bikes to solid ground.
Our mesquite-lined bike path winding through
forest and sand dunes was covered with lots of sand and pine needles and cones
as the wind was blowing close to a gale. This is where I had my only flat tire
on any of my bike trips. Darn those mesquite thorns!
We
learned more about wine from a couple lectures on this trip than we ever wanted
to know. But the best part about the wine was that it flowed generously every
night at dinner. All of our facilities were small boutique hotels or B &
Bs, and since the president of the company was along on this trip we figured
the facilities were just saying thank you to him for his business. We all
benefited from that and the fellows were not a bit shy about holding up an
empty bottle for another. It is the only time in all my travels that wine
flowed so generously and for free.
Our
local city guide in Bordeaux was a flamboyant little fellow who spoke English
with a very heavy accent. Whenever we crossed the street during the 3-hour
walking tour he would run into the street, stop traffic by madly waving his hands and yelling
,”Hurry, hurry” at us. Watching him was a show in itself and you couldn’t help
but smile.
Stopping for a picnic lunch in Malconx I was most fascinated in the
center of the small town
where some trees were covering a large ‘patio’.
The numerous trees were trained to follow overhead wires to fill in and create
a canopy. I’d never seen anything like it nor have I seen anything like it
since. I do not know what kind of trees they were. It was a very clever idea.
The
produce we bought at the open markets was vine ripened and absolutely
delicious! However, I would not want to shop daily as the French do. They all
carry their own basket or bag to carry home their groceries----way ahead of us
in the US.
In the
countryside, where we spent most of our time, homes and yards were small, but
flowers were everywhere. Window boxes were very popular. Besides the cultivated
flowers, wild flowers were in bloom all along the roadsides and in fields.
Lovely! Bright red poppies were a marked contrast to the white Queen Anne’s
lace in the fields.
