Reims: Day Tripping to Champagne

Our intention was to spend a week in Paris and really get to know the city, but we felt it would be a shame to go all the way to France and not visit the wine country.  We've had spectacular trips through California wine country and even Minnesota wine country and couldn't imagine skipping over French wine country, the place where wine reaches it's apotheosis.  After looking at a map, we realized that Bordeaux would have to be a trip unto itself, but the Champagne region was close enough for a day trip, one hour by high speed train.  

To see the famous Champagne houses you can either go to Reims or Épernay.  Both are chock full of the names most of us only see on special occasions: Veuve Clicquot, Moët et Chandon, Perrier-Jouët, and Krug.  It's a who's who of New Year's Eve celebrations. Our decision was easy because the train went directly to Reims. 

So after a bit of confusion over train systems, we got on the train to Reims and were soon flying past fields of what I guessed was mustard.  I'd love to know if anyone can confirm that...?

A lovely little park outside the train station.  

When we finally found the tourist office (which is to the left of the historic Cathedral of Reims in case you are looking for it as well) they were very helpful, providing a map and advice on where to go. By process of elimination (which winery was open to the public and which tours were filled), we decided to visit Pommery. 

You can see trash on the ground which was left by Pommery workers who were on strike that day. It was funny, but their taunts as we walked by them somehow just weren't as intimidating in French. By the time we left at 5pm they were gone.  Apparently even strikers need to get home at a decent time.

The Elizabethan architecture was not exactly what I expected from a French winery, but it certainly made a statement. 

The tour started by taking us down a long flight of steps into the caves.  These caves and tunnels were carved from the remains of a Roman quarry which left four large pyramid-shaped caverns.  As you stand in the caverns you can look up and see daylight 100 feet above you through a small hole in the top of the pyramid. I immediately started to imagine the plot of a thriller in which unsuspecting tourists release an ancient Roman curse and must figure out how to escape the maze of caves without losing their lives or breaking any bottles of wine (the monster feeds on wine of course). 

Each of the caverns features a panel depicting different characters from Roman mythology in relief.  They have been colored with moss over the years, especially where the light hits them.

Tunnels are lined with stacks of dusty wine bottles, aging in this perfect climate-controlled environment. These large bottles are called salmas or salmanazars and they hold twelve bottles of wine each. They will be portioned into smaller bottles when their aging is complete.

Pommery's visitor area is pretty slick and almost sterile inside. The cavernous tasting room  was unlike any I've been in, I imagine intended to accommodate special events and visitors by the busload.

They really focused on their POP label--splits of champagne in shiny colored bottles that you are encouraged to drink with a straw.  I found it interesting that POP stands for "Product of Pommery."  I guess PDP (Produit de Pommery) didn't have that pop.  Heh heh...

It was late by the time we got home but that didn't stop us from having a quick dinner and visiting our favorite hangout--Cafe Delmas--for a couple glasses of Côtes de Brouilly. I can see now why café culture is so pervasive in France, it's easy to get used to sitting around and talking while watching the world go by. You feel like you are connected to the world around you in a way that sitting at Starbucks doesn't provide. (I must note that there was a Starbucks down the street from our apartment and it was just as busy as other cafés.)

The young people we talked to at the café suggested we go up the street to see check out some bars where local students hang out.  We almost didn't believe it when we came across this bar called La Lucha Libre.    

It gets better--we were invited down to the basement where they were staging an actual wrestling match. This was such an incongruous experience, watching melodramatic Mexican wrestling with a play-by-play French.  Anson and I kept laughing and shaking our heads.