Vineyard Tour at Harvest Time

 Grapes playing hide and seek

I have been so busy getting moved that I have neglected to write some blog articles.  Today, I don't have any great "big" project involving a bus ride out of town, and have been able to nibble away at my to-do list of chores and feel I can take the time to describe the wine tour that Andrew, Lauren and I took two Fridays ago. 

Auzias winery crest

Cabardes region family winery and chateau

There's an American woman, Wendy, here who runs tours, but they are expensive (145 Euros a person) and she was completely booked up for that Friday.  Andrew asked if I could help him find a tour, as he wanted to surprise his girlfriend, something that apparently very hard for him to accomplish.  So, I was enlisted in the duplicity and also charged with finding a tour.

Grapes growing for miles and miles

I checked with the local tourist information bureau, a great source of information and not just for tourists and found two tours, both considerably more affordable than Wendy's.  I was able to book three places with Didier, a local guide who speaks English, for Friday the 16th, in the afternoon.  Even though I really did no want to go, not because I wasn't interested, but because I had so darned much to do with the move, I agreed to accompany them. I had to lie to Lauren in order to get her out of the new apartment--she thought Didier was coming to help us assemble the furniture that I bought at IKEA and we had to meet him downstairs.  

On the way out to the grapes

We went out to Auzias, a private vineyard in the Cabardes region of the Aude.  I overheard someone say at the wine bar the other day, "I've never had a bad wine from the Cabardes."  I must confess right away that I have NO palate when it comes to wine.  When people start waxing poetic about the floral notes and overtones of black currant, I look at them blankly and tell them they are, "Casting pearls before swine."  I simply cannot tell the wines apart, and all I ever smell or taste is alcohol.  I know that I like roses, here, which are not sweet, but taste of rocks.  The correct term, I have learned, is "minerality," And I also know that I have always liked the roses that I have bought that originate in the Cabardes.  So, I was excited about getting to see the vineyard.

Andrew and Lauren inspect the harvest

Ted and Barbara, from Australian were on the tour with us

The star of the day

The guide at the vineyard handed out little audio guides--with earbuds (or for me--headphones) that guided the tour in several languages, including English.  I have a terrible time with those things and eventually abandoned mine.  The guide herself did NOT speak English, which was a problem at first, for the questions that people had when the narration was finished.  I was pressed into service as the translator for the group.

The marc is falling into the back of the truck

The pile of skins and pulp gets bigger and bigger with each turn of the barrel

I was not happy about this at first, but once I got over my snit and decided to make the best of the day and use this opportunity to practice my translation skills, things got better.  We wandered out to the vineyards and learned about growing grapes organically.  We got to walk among the vines.  I was struck by how heavy the bunches of grapes were--dense and loaded with juice, I suppose.  The summer has been very warm and dry, with lots of sun.  I know hat has hurt the quantity of wine that will be produced, but the jury is out about the quality.

The bottling room

Our guide pointed out the tags on the wires supporting the vines and told us that they contained some hormones that confuse the sex drive of the bugs that can infest the grapes, and the critters don't lay eggs. The need for pesticides is eliminated.  She talked about pruning, she talked about the weather stations that are embedded in the fields that sends meteorological information to the growers.  

Beautiful day, beautiful countryside

Some of the old stone houses on the property are rented to tenants who work the vineyards.  They looked for all the world like something out of a movie set.  This property once was an abbey (is there any property in the French countryside that wasn't once an abbey?) and has an organic feel to it, as if it sprang directly from the soil.

We proceeded to the building where the grapes were being pressed.  The juice was siphoned off to be stored in big tanks and the marc-- the skins and seed and any pulp were being dropped into a waiting dump truck to be sold to companies that produce the fiery marc or eau de vie--kind of a very poten brandy.  I learned that nothing is wasted in the vintner's world.  The smell as the freshly pressed "marc" fell into the truck was heavenly.  

We visited the bottling room, learned about the labeling and the holding out of 20% of the red wines for "The Glory of God" wine.  Can't get away from religion in a former abbey, I guess.  It's rather special, it gets special handling,and aged in barrels.

In the Auzias tasting room--a weighty decision

We ended out tour of the Auzias vineyard in the tasting room, as is tradition.  I found that not only did I like the rose quite a bit, I also like the white.  As a thank-you for acting as the translator, they made me a present of one of the bottles.  It was unexpected and touching.  When I protested that it was not necessary, Didier quietly told me that it would be rude to refuse; they wanted to do it.

The Malpere Co-op--cleanest stainless steel I have ever seen

Truck backing into the dock/bay to dump his cargo

All of the questions and tasting deliberations put us about 90 minutes behind schedule for out next stop, at Cave Malpere over in Arzens. (Malpere--is short for Mal Pierre--meaning bad stone, not bad father.)  This wine producing operation is a co-op. The local growers harvest their grapes and bring them to a central location where they are combined with the harvest of other growers.  When the trucks pull into the station, a probe tests the alcohol content and the trucks are directed to the appropriate bay where they empty their precious cargo into a crushing station.  Because Didier, as one of his sideline jobs works as a driver taking grapes from the field to the cave, we were able to meet the chef, the boss, and climb up to the scaffolding and watch the grapes being dumped.  So, so interesting and the aroma was lovely. 

The "marc" travels up the augur and gets dumped

View from the catwalk above the bays for emptying the grape trucks

Didier pumps his own rose

Tthis tour also ended with a stop in the tasting room.  Didier brought out a 5 liter plastic jug that reminded me of a gas can and proceeded to "pump his own" rose.  At 1.39 a liter, it's quite a good bargain.  I liked the rose, but not as much as that from Auzias, so I didn't buy a bottle.  I did, however, buy two wine glasses, as I had none in my apartment.  It makes a nice souvenir of the day.

I think this is cheaper than water

We were lucky on several levels with this tour.  Because of the timing, we were able to see aspects of the harvest and processing that most tours can't offer.  Harvesting the grapes happens in a very short window of time--maybe three weeks--anywhere from the end of August to the end of September.  The grapes will tell the grower when they are ready to be picked.  When that happens, the call goes out very early int he morning--as early as 3 A.M. for the pickers to come and snip the bunches as quickly as possible, before the heat of the day changes the sugar content.  The wineries prefer not to have tourists getting in the way of serious work.  And wine making is indeed serious business here in the Aude.  Because of Didier's connections, we were able to get a close look at the liquid money being made here in the Aude.  I can't thank him enough for his warmth, his information and his insight.  For someone who didn't want to go on the tour to begin with, I ended up as perhaps the biggest fan.

The grapes fall in a blur