A bullet train from Montparnasse Station whisks our family threesome out of Paris. Leaving rural villages and rolling countryside behind, we arrive at Gare St-Jean in Bordeaux within two hours. There, daughter Jessica arranges an Uber to MS Cyrano de Bergerac, moored on the Garonne River. Our cruise through one of the world’s most renowned wine regions begins.
Smiling concierges welcome us aboard with sparkling aperitifs. Stewards escort us to side-by-side cabins, where we settle in for a six-day cruise in southwestern France.
Dinner begins later at a reserved table amid more than 160 Francophones. A British librarian joins us, making our foursome the sole English-speaking contingent aboard. Toasting good times ahead, we merrily sip local wines during four courses of French cuisine.
Following the first buffet breakfast, our Anglophone quartet gathers in the lounge. The entertainment director introduces Marc, a lively, bearded fellow. Initially, he explains how his plaid kilt and knee socks reflect Gascon heritage. Standing before a regional map, he highlights Bordeaux’s history.
We learn that Romans subdued Aquitani tribes two thousand years ago, developed settlements, and planted this area’s original vineyards. As Roman rule collapsed in the fourth century, Visigoths took over. Germanic Franks expelled them a century later. Constantly rebelling, Aquitani and Basque kinsmen ultimately established Gascony.
Producing and selling superb wines, Gascons flourished throughout the Middle Ages.
“When King Henry II of England married Eleanor of Aquitaine, Gascony became part of his Norman kingdom. Vineyards greatly expanded to accommodate wine-loving English demand,” Marc grins.
“Also coveting this rich region, France ‘snatched’ Gascony… starting the Hundred Years’ War! Finally, a 1453 French victory in Bordeaux ended this prolonged conflict. Gascony became France’s new province!”
Marc observes, “Centuries later, Gascony ‘raised’ three notable French writers. As enthusiastic vintners, Montaigne and Montesquieu penned learned wine essays. Montesquieu originated the theory of terroir: how climate and soils affect grapes. And Mauriac mused on ‘wine culture’ in Préséances, his 19th-century novel.”
Stroking his stylish moustache, he resumes, “Our longship’s name recalls the fictitious Cyrano de Bergerac, an astute, quick-witted Gascon!” And, eyes twinkling, he adds, “Our Cyrano has the same grand nose for sniffing out fine wines!”
Before long, the captain announces a ‘waterfront tour.’ Cyrano begins skirting rows of lofty dormered buildings with plazas boasting monumental statuary. An officer discusses its neoclassical architecture and identifies the iron trestle bridge as Gustave Eiffel’s first engineering success. Resembling a huge goblet swirling wine, the Wine Museum concludes our enlightening overview.
Cruising northeast, shorelines fade as the river gradually widens. Drinking foamy cappuccinos beneath the sundeck canopy, our trio plays Scrabble until chimes signal lunchtime. We follow shipmates to the downstairs dining room. From our central table, we watch activity on the working river.
That afternoon, Cyrano moors near Fort Médoc’s ruins. Boarding a bus, we travel through countless vineyards to La Tour Carnet, Montaigne’s early residence.
In the vineyard, bunches of plump purple grapes hang from gnarly vines. Inside, the salon displays a bust of this 16th-century essayist, his books, coat of arms, and armour. Behind a glass wall, a temperature-controlled chamber stores wine maturing in oak barrels.
In an adjacent building, we see massive stainless-steel vats. Automated gauges monitor fermentation. A sommelier in the tasting room pours crisp whites and juicy reds while introducing this area’s terroir:
“Médoc’s limestone, clay, and rock composition has long nurtured superior grapes. In fact, at Napoleon III’s 1855 Exposition, an expert panel judged Médoc wines among the five best in France… including one from La Tour Carnet!”
Heading back to the ship, our guide arranges stops to photograph two more of Médoc’s 800 elegant manors. “Traditionally, labels depicted châteaux to promote their wines,” she notes. “Assuring quality, they also included estate names, vintners, and the appellations pinpointing location.”
The next day, Cyrano moors below immense Fort Blaye on the Garonne’s opposite bank. Motorcoach guide Julia tells us how 17th-century Fort Blaye, Fort Médoc, and mid-river Fort Paté guarded the entrance to this prosperous region. In action only once, these forts prevented an 1814 English invasion.
Our route eventually borders the river. Tiny stilted shacks line the shore. “See those long, netted poles?” Julia asks. “Fishermen catch eels with them.” In a small nearby village, stone-faced homes are carved into a cliffside.
On a hill above the confluence of the Dordogne and Gironde, we arrive at Bourg-sur-Gironde. Its 17th-century citadel proves a short walk away. Passing through formal gardens, we stroll onto a wide terrace to take in riverside panoramas.
A cobblestone street takes us under a grand archway to a farmers’ market, its stalls overflowing with local produce. Winding onward, a quiet walkway passes below a lofty Moorish villa. Our walking tour ends near the harbour at a roofed communal washhouse, Bourg’s 19th-century ‘news centre.’
Overnight, Cyrano plies the Dordogne to Libourne. The morning bus carries us over vineyard-covered flatlands to a rustic bistro.
Today’s guide, Marie, shepherds us along the rim of a deep, terraced valley to a more contemporary château. Inside, rows of oak barrels sit behind a glass wall. An opposite wall poster illustrates four grapes originating in this region: merlot, cabernet-sauvignon, cabernet-franc, and petite-verdot.
Upstairs, we gaze across the lush valley through floor-to-ceiling windows. At the bar, Jessica asks about two varietals absent from the poster. The sommelier replies, “Pinot noir developed in Burgundy, malbec in Cahors. Both are blended with our Bordeaux reds.”
While pouring, he shares a Thomas Jefferson tale: “Local vintners met Jefferson when he was America’s ambassador to France. In admiration, they gave him grape cuttings for his Virginia vineyard. When a fungus devastated our estates, he shipped us resistant native rootstocks. French varietals are still grafted onto those heritage roots.”
Our next destination is Saint-Émilion. Walking beside a massive wall section, we visualise villagers defending this wealthy trading centre. The ruins of a cardinal’s palace stand nearby.
Descending a narrow street, Marie tells us its cobblestones were once ship ballast. Merchant sailors discarded them to make space for wine barrels.
Saint-Émilion, one of Europe’s largest monolithic churches, dominates the town. Frescos of biblical scenes adorn a dimly lit nave.
Marie explains, “This medieval church was named for Saint Émilion, an eighth-century hermit who miraculously changed wood into bread to feed the poor. His 11th-century followers carved this edifice from limestone and entombed him here. Over the next two centuries, these monks prospered by selling their celebrated Saint-Émilion wines.”
Little cafés encircle a nearby shaded plaza. Energized by cold drinks, we trudge back up archaic streets where signage invites ‘dégustation.’ Stepping into a small stone-built shop, like samplers of yore, our trio tastes several merlot-cabernets and purchases a vintage compatible with our palates and budget.
Back in Bordeaux, our excursion grand finale takes place at a repurposed WWII submarine base, now the world’s largest digital arts centre.
Entering Basins des Lumières, we immerse ourselves in Antoni Gaudí’s voluptuous Barcelona architecture, enhanced by pulsating flamenco guitars. Salvador Dalí’s Endless Enigma follows. His masterpieces envelope the concrete walls, floors, waterways…and us. Pink Floyd’s The Wall reinforces Dalí’s brilliant imagery, filling this enormous venue with dreamlike, otherworldly sound. The next morning, we head homeward. Cyrano’s wondrous voyage provided countless insights into Bordeaux’s storied past…and a delightful immersion in its distinguished wine culture.
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