A River of Joy and Trouble: Bordeaux

To help prevent any boredom during my last week in Europe, in which I would have no classes or commitments, I planned a four day, three night trip to the south of France. Gascony, for example, is in Southern France, and revolves around the Garonne River, and is famous for its top product, wine. I planned this trip to relax before going home, and experience a taste of France. Sounds fun and simple, right? Well, there were some hitches in this plan. Follow along my somewhat surprising, humbling, and rewarding experience in the heart of Gascony, Bordeaux.

A Whirlwind of Emotions

Upon my arrival to the Bordeaux airport about 20 miles outside of the city, I was greeted by the sight of three soldiers, armed to the teeth, slowly marching around the waiting lounge in the airport. Sadly to say, this would become a common theme during my trip to France. France has been hit hard by terrorist attacks by the small groups of Muslim extremists in the world. France has reacted by placing extreme security measures, doing customs even for EU flights, having soldiers walking around public places, placing concrete barriers anywhere they can be put, and having security checkpoints at the Christmas markets. This sense of foreboding only added to the discomfiture I felt. I had been warned that most people in France would either not speak any English, or would be unwilling to speak any English (French snobbery is NOT a stereotype). But, what I wasn’t warned about is that there would be no tourists at all in these regions. I felt utterly alone for the two days I was in Bordeaux. It was a new type of culture shock I had never experienced in Portugal, constantly surrounded by English-speaking students. I felt fear in asking people questions, assuming they would turn up their nose at my inability to speak French. So, I just decided to mostly wander around, soaking in as much as I could, trying to look inconspicuous. This activity required no French (the French accent is really hard when you already are juggling a Spanish and Portuguese accent). This decision, while made in a stressed out moment, was not a bad one. Over my days in Bordeaux, I saw much of the city, and was inspired by its simplistic beauty. The buildings were symmetrical but beautiful, made out of stone. The Promenade of St. Catherine stretches for 2 miles of shopping-filled bliss, and exposed me to what brands the fashion-forward French like the best. I mingled with the working class French every moment I walked around.

I also saw the rampant homelessness problem that Bordeaux is experiencing. Old bearded men and mothers with children sat on cardboard squares pleading in French at every corner of the Promenade and outside the main tourist attractions. The problems in France were also evident in the huge protest that marched through the main riverfront avenue for miles, with 10,000 people shouting their demands of the local government. As I later learned, Bordeaux, which has a large aeronautics industry, was seeing a widespread reduction (or even removal) or retirement benefits amongst other things, and the throngs on the streets were quite unhappy about this. While the stone walls of Bordeaux’s buildings may not have showed flaws, I definitely saw major cracks in the foundations of democracy and goodwill in France. I’m not sure what this means for the future. These issues could explode into something violent, or could simper out. But, I know now to keep my eyes to France.

Let the River Run!

I kept my eyes on other things while in Bordeaux, however. Bordeaux was the smallest city outside of Portugal I had visited so far, with a population of only 250 thousand. Thus, there also was not as much to see in the city. Bordeaux’s main draw is the numerous châteaus outside of the city where one can taste the famous wines (such as Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot) that have asserted Bordeaux’s significance for centuries. However, I never left the city proper, so I had to get my taste of the city’s culture and wine-based history within the city limits. Of course, as in every European city, I visited the large Basilica in the southern quarter of the city, with its tall tower separated from the main basilica, an abnormality in my European travels. Another main difference in this one was the stonework, and the lack of a remodel. The Basilica was raw, original, work. You could see the age in the water-stains and small cracks spread throughout the foundations and walls of the buildings. The Basilica was dead empty, and was ominously quiet. Solemn, like a church should be. Once outside the Basilica, a lively street market where vendors sell everything from furniture to children’s clothing provides color to the pasty Basilica and surrounding buildings. One can also easily get lost in the spiderweb of surrounding narrow streets, cobblestones underfoot. These streets are quiet. It allowed me to appreciate the ivy providing some pop to the mostly barren walls, and the blissful early winter weather of southern France. Eventually, the streets spit you out to one of the two main squares of the city, where one finds the lofty towers of Saint Andre’s Cathedral. The interior of the cathedral is more well-lit than the basilica, and a fresh remodel is in process on the outside. The cathedral itself is still quiet, with the only sound breaking the peaceful reverie a children’s choir bellowing at the top of their little lungs, “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.” Yeah, that was actually quite funny.

But, one cannot ignore the main attraction of Bordeaux in my opinion, the Garonne. This river flows 374 miles from its source in the Pyrenees to its delta near Bordeaux, both cutting Bordeaux in half and providing the moisture necessary for the region’s famous grapes. I took a long walk (nearly 6 miles) along the river, crossing both of Bordeaux’s famous bridges, the old-fashioned Pont de Pierre and the modernistic and blue-hued Pont Jacques Chaban-Delmas. It was a peaceful river walk, full of the wind rustling the remaining leaves on the trees (it takes forever for the trees to lose their leaves here!) and the odd jogger and dog-walker taking advantage of the beautiful weather. The Garonne is meant to be taken at a snail’s pace. But, even more so to be appreciated is the wine industry. Although I did not visit a château, I did enjoy a wine-tasting at the wonderfully informative Museé du Vin et du Négoce de Bordeaux. Here, I learned all about the development of the wine industry, and how it affected the citizens of Bordeaux. Even in the 1500’s, Bordeaux’s wine was world renown and highly acclaimed, with the ministers of Bordeaux ensuring the exclusivity of the wine by placing high tariffs on outside wine. This resulted in the wine trade business especially taking hold in the Chartrons, the locale of the museum, and formally outside of the city walls. Here, wines from all over France were traded freely, and networks of cellars connected to the Garonne. Merchants then could easily sail up and down the Garonne, selling wine as they went to common citizens, and larger sea-going merchants. Without the Garonne, Bordeaux may not be what it is today. I would not have known to visit Bordeaux to try the delicious red wines that make up most of Bordeaux’s selection (90% to be exact). As long as this river runs, Bordeaux runs with it.

Thanks for reading. I am currently home after the crazy and amazing 4 months I lived in Portugal. I am happy to be back, but missing terribly so many of the people I became such good friends with. That has been the hardest part. But, I am confident I will see them again soon. Also, I wish everyone a Merry Christmas tomorrow! It is good to be home to celebrate with my family. Also, we near the end of my posts. I have two more in the works, one about Toulouse, and a final reflection upon returning. Look for those last two before the new year. Until next time,

Jeremy Caldeira