Wonderings and Wanderings pt. 2

This past weekend I visited the region of Champagne via bus. The French countryside is stunning. It was a beautiful sunny day, and the fields just rolled out on either side of us, dotted by clusters of trees. The vineyards covered the gentle hills, and every so often a village would appear. All of the little towns were centered around the church, exactly as I had heard. I saw no strip malls, gas stations, billboards, or greasy diners as I would have in America. One didn't get the sense of going from town to town. It was more akin to passing by a town as one drove through the country.

Our first stop was at Pommeray, one of the oldest and most prestigious Champagne producers. We descended this staircase into the cellars:



There we were taken through a series of chalk cellars where the champagne was stored. The guide spoke moderately flawed English and was not terribly informative. What I found more interesting was that the Pommeray family has traditionally been a patron of the arts, and the whole compound was littered with contemporary art installations. In the dim light of the cellars, some of them were a little frightening, such as a room in which there were shadows for nonexistent objects atop pedestals.

There was another room in which there were vintage guitar amps and guitars set up horizontally on stands. Live birds flew about the room and made music when they landed. Another room had a life size inflatable tank. It was surreal, to say the least, but very enjoyable. The French seem to have no qualms juxtaposing the ancient and the modern. In fact, they seem to embrace it - for better or worse.

The second stop of the trip was Le Chevalier Blanc, an inn of sorts where we ate a three course lunch. It came with Champagne, red wine, and coffee. I think it was the best meal I've had since coming to Paris. And that says a lot, as one would imagine.


After lunch we visited Notre Dame de Reims, famous for being the site of Joan of Arc's consecration and the coronation of many French kings. Being a sucker for Gothic structures of any kind, I found it to be simply magnificent. After seeing this and Chartres, I have to admit that I think the best cathedrals in France are outside of Paris. Notre Dame de Paris is an incredible and historic icon, but I have my reservations which I will blog about later. Reims, like much of France, fairly reverberates with significance and history. I saw Joan of Arc's chapel, and stood in front of the altar where kings were crowned. Just seeing that in writing makes my soul quiver. The presence of history is all-pervading here, and it seems to lend another quality to life that is lacking in America. Somehow, and maybe this is just my own invention, life seems to mean more here. With relics of Western civilization everywhere, the struggles to achieve the comfortable lives we all lead today are more prominent. In France, one can feel the pain of history. America's history is different. Someone pointed out to me that in America, we are all technically strangers to our own land. The Native Americans were here first, but we seized the land, made it our own, and buried their history beneath shopping malls and skyscrapers. The pain of our history is there only sometimes, and even then it does not include the Black Plague, or the 100 Years War, or the Wars of Religion, or The Terror.

After Reims, we went to another champagne cellar, G.H. Mumm. Hemingway drinks this brand (which he calls Mumms) in The Sun Also Rises. This cellar was more corporate and far less atmospheric, but the tour was more informative. We got to see how they extract the dead yeast residue from the bottles over a period of months, and we got to look at a museum of old champagne machinery. One could really get the sense of the phrase "wine culture" and know the patience and hard work that goes into producing champagne. And, of course, we got to taste the champagne. I preferred the drier flavor as opposed to the sweet "demi-sec"; the sugar content was 8 grams to 40 grams per liter, respectively. I learned that apparently in the 18th century they liked their champagne extra sweet at 100 grams.

After Mumm, we headed back to Paris. I think everyone on the bus was asleep within twenty minutes of the departure.