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Posts Tagged ‘France’

La Champagne has long caught my imagination as a region hidden away from the tourist traps of Paris, the Alps or the Cote d’Azure. I’d imagined it to be secluded, sophisticated and frequented only by those who drove expensive cars & knew how to converse using more than ‘bonjour’, ‘merci’ and ‘bière’. I’d also imagined it to be a little stuffy. Indeed, it’s no secret that the French are an infamously proud nation and I wasn’t sure how this was going to go down with a group of four Brits celebrating a birthday (who, if we’re being totally honest probably wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between Cava and a Vintage Brut…)

The impressive chandelier made from champagne flutes in the Moet reception

Arriving in Calais our Megan headed north. Having lived in France for a year I’m well accustomed to the joys of French motorways but still get that incredulous sense of disbelief when I pass through that toll and am not met with wall to wall traffic. It was a decent drive up to the Champagne region but when you stare straight ahead and see no cars, look in your rear view mirror and see no cars, you know you are in motorway heaven (take note M25…) And when you do eventually turn off and drive into the Champagne valley it is definitely worth the wait.

So many grapes...

With two main roads running through the valley you are met with amazing views of the vineyards raising up onto the hill sides (for those of you who don’t know, the vines can only grow on the valley sides as the valley floor is too wet) peppered along the route were a number of white vans and clumps of people picking the grapes…every last one by hand.

Upon turning off the main road we arrived at the village of Venteuil. As in all the villages in the valley there are many champagne houses to choose from – and Champagne Bouché – Machuré was our first stop. A friendly woman beckoned us into the house, passing an array of children’s toys and a dog en route. We were then met by the owner’s daughter who showed us the cave and explained in every last detail the process of tasting champagne: Voir, Sentir, Gouter. Look, smell and (finally!) taste.

Les fameux raisins...

After drinking the best part of a bottle of champagne between us (admittedly the driver wasn’t drinking so that would be between three of us then…) we felt our immersion into the region was coming along nicely. Far from being proud and aloof the owners were warm, welcoming and fun. One could argue this was because they were working to secure a sale. Given France’s customer service reputation (of which I have had vast experience of) I am less cynical. The enthusiasm and time the champagne house devotes to its clients and indeed, visitors is down to the passion they have for their art. Trying to open a bank account took over a week of hearty negotiation – an hour spent exploring the fruits of Champagne Bouché – Machuré took nothing more than a healthy interest at the door.

With three bottles of Champagne Grande Réserve tucked away in the boot we said our goodbyes and drove to Essomes sur Marne to our internet booked accommodation – Château de la Marjolaine. Being the resident French speaker I got out the car to make my way to reception. After receiving the fright of my life as a large fury dog hurled towards me barking for all it was worth I managed to compose myself enough to introduce myself to the gentleman at the door (and convince him I wasn’t a really bad burglar).

The impressive Châteaux de la Marjolaine

Bruno was one of the owners (the other being Jean-Pierre) and he quite honestly couldn’t have been more welcoming. After showing us to our suite – two double en-suite bedrooms with adjoining living area – we met for drinks downstairs. The châteaux is beautiful and its hard to believe that it has been open only one year after being completely re-developed and decorated from scratch (the only thing that remains is the huge chandelier hanging above the staircase to the bedrooms…the previous owners couldn’t remove it as it was so heavy). The owners love their antiques and signature pieces and every last detail is taken into consideration from the china cups, crystal ornaments and black and white family pictures adoring the walls of one of the reception rooms.

Doesn't everyone have one of these in their garden?!

 The pièce de résistance however, is without doubt the gorgeous garden. Walking out over to the lake you wouldn’t feel out of place in a Jane Austin novel; a large, impressive châteaux with an elegant garden complete with vegetable patch, goats, chickens and a sleeping-beauty themed castle.

Oblivious of their stunning surroundings I think

Bruno kept busy popping out occasionally to smoke a cigarette or play with ‘Olive’ his faithful dog – always happy to chat and recommend places in the area. One of which was Champagne Belin – a champagne house run by a friend a 15 minute walk away.

Our second champagne house visit

Understandably, this proposal went down well (none more so than with the driver). Upon arrival the owner took us out to see his vineyards and we spent a happy 45 minutes asking questions and soaking up the atmosphere.

The vines at Champagne Belin

Once inside we were then treated to an hour’s tour of the whole factory – from the huge presser the grapes go into once they arrive from the fields in their crates to the warehouse in which the final products are stored.

Don't fancy falling in here!

Once again the owner could not have been nicer – happy to answer all our questions (however stupid they must have seen to him) and patiently waited while I translated his replies back in English. Needless to say we also had the best part of another bottle of champagne at the end of our tour and staggered home with a couple of boxes under our arms (paid for…!)

With some excellent local brut to our name there was only one last thing to indulge in before our return home the next day…dinner at Châteaux de la Marjolaine. And what a meal it was. Assuming we had booked a table in the restaurant we arrived at 1930h for our aperitif of champagne (what else?!) in the reception room. We were joined by another French couple who were staying that night and once escorted through to the dining area you could see one large and rather splendid table set in the middle of the room where we were all to be seated with Bruno our host at the head. As the wine and courses flowed (a cheese & beetroot starter followed by a pork and vegetable main, cheese course and coconut cake) it became apparent that Bruno was not only the host but also the chef…and couldn’t have looked more laid back if he’d tried. It was apparent the evening was a huge success but he still had one trick up his sleeve – a birthday cake (complete with all 28 candles) for our hard-working driver. Feeling full, slightly tipsy and very happy we retired to our suite – no doubt leaving poor Bruno with a lot of washing up…

Olive - Bruno's friendly dog

Upon reflection La Champagne has not only lived up to my rather idealised preconceptions but has also surpassed them. It is a region full of people passionate about what they do, and enthusiastic to the point of entertaining. Driving through Épernay down the Avenue de Champagne housing the famous champagnes of Laurent Perrier, Moët, Pol Roger and Taittinger you see tourists seduced by the pictures of Scarlet Johansson partying with a bottle of Moët in her hand, buying their overpriced slice of the-rich-and-famous lifestyle.

Marketing it for the girls?!

Visiting Champagne Bouché-Machuré and Champagne Belin I saw a family business, real-life people and a product that reflected the true essence of what I believe the Champagne region to be all about. It’s true you will need to speak a bit of French to really get the most out of a stay in the region. But the French I came across were, not as is sometimes reported, willing to speak English. They often apologised for not speaking more fluently but still gave it a shot. It is this love of their work, love of a product so quintessentially French (yes, they do admit the English did discover champagne…it was the French as they point out, that made it was it is today…fair play) and warmness that bowled me over.

Getting to grips with the grapes!

While there may not be any mountains, a beach or a tower constructed by Gustave Eiffel to climb, if it’s a romantic French getaway full of charm and character you’re after – I’ll have La Champagne over Paris any day.

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England 1 France 1

Forget the football (oh, that’s right we already have…) us Brits have more than just poor footie results to defend. And with a foreign manager coming under fire, I’m reminded of my time flying the flag for my country abroad…

Coming back to uni after a year sampling the delights of carefree living teaching English to the unsuspected in France I  found myself in an unusual position. As a bona fide Brit in Le Mans I quickly became sole representative and defendant of our great and mighty land. Until living and working abroad for a year I had never been so patriotic.

Attacks came in thick and fast (the usual suspects, poor weather, food, behaviour on a night out…) but I could not be beaten. England is indeed a fantastic country I proclaimed. Ok, the weather is not great but you get used to it. Venture out anywhere in England on a Saturday night and you will see individuals in nothing more than a thin T Shirt despite the drizzle, northerly wind and temperatures bordering on freezing, (although that may have more to do with the fact we’d rather freeze than pay the £1.50 for the cloakroom). The food is fantastic! No where else on earth can you find a proper Sunday roast, decent fish and chips or real orange squash. And as for our behaviour on a night out, let me assure you we are not the only ones to drink too much, sing loudly in the street, dress up in all our most hideous clothes at once and return home with a road sign under our arms.

Despite all this, and following determined efforts to the contrary my patriotism is currently suffering a temporary crisis. After a year of smiling politely and nodding to my French peers as they good naturedly questioned aspects of our daily life (whilst inwardly adamant that I was in fact right), I am now beginning to see they may have had a point. Yes, the weather is awful. So bad in fact that we forget what it’s like to see the sun and the whole country goes into a mad state of panic when the temperature gets above 25 degrees Celsius and it hasn’t rained for three days. Food, (apart from the above named items which remain sacred) is admittedly not that fantastic. Ask anyone to name their favourite dish and it will, nine times out of ten, be something from Italy, India or…France. And our night time shenanigans. While it’s true the French love to have a good time just as much as the rest of us they manage to do it whilst maintaining their dignity, and antics involving misplaced wheelie bins, public displays of nakedness and customary vomiting are notably absent.

Call me weak, call me a traitor. I can only say I did my best. However, there is one thing I will never back down on. While the French may claim the upper hand on weather, food and dignified nightly behaviour, it is us Brits and us Brits only who know how to form a proper queue!

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