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Vougeot to Nuits-Saint-Georges
Deep in the heart of Burgundy, I am in search of an explanation for why so
much has been written about this land and the wine that it produces. There
are many great regions that both fascinate and captivate the imaginations of
wine drinkers around the world: Loire, Napa, Bordeaux, and the Mosel to name
a few, but there is also a common understanding among wine professionals and
enthusiasts that Burgundy and its Côte d'Or represent the very soul of this
vast subject.
Breakfast is a selection of breads and preserves along with a pitcher of
orange juice as I spend a few minutes chatting with the inn's owner about
which direction my hike will proceed from Vougeot.
Only
a portion of the original 12th century Château Clos de Vougeot structure
exists today and a great deal of time and money has been spent to restore
the great building and its cellars below. The Château is a true marvel of
architectural significance crafted by the hands of the abbey of Cîteaux. The
monks who relocated here renamed themselves the Cistercian and populated the
hillside with vines. The Clos de Vougeot represents only one of the many
vineyards in this commune that produces both red and white wine. I won’t
spend any time on the history or interior of this building – numerous
websites will provide you with that information. It is interesting to note
that wine is no longer made in this great building. It serves only as a
national landmark and headquarters for the Chevalier du Tastevin who gather
here monthly for their grand-scale dinners and tasting functions.
Inside the Château, I ask about an alternate route to Vosne-Romanée and an
employee speaks of an old vineyard road that runs across the hills behind
the Château. "The path is in very bad condition Monsieur, full of pot
holes”, she says in good English. “Really it is only used by vineyard
workers. You’ll need some good walking shoes if you plan to go that way.
Just keep walking toward the cathedral in Vosne,” she advises. “The road
will take you there eventually and please be careful along the way.”
Behind the Château on the hillside is the great vineyard Le Musigny with les
Armoureuses below it to the north. Chambolle is just beyond my view though I
can still see the old stone cross that marks its boundary. I can’t help but
wonder if someone else will stand beside it today and reflect on these
fields the same way that I did yesterday.
The condition of the road to Vosne-Romanée is not as poor as I envisioned
and but for a few areas that have washed out recently, I can easily make my
way safely. Much has been written about the incredible roofline of Château
Clos de Vougeot. From the front of the building you sense the magnitude but
only from behind can you fully understand the complexity and the surface
area. Standing at the western most extreme of the wall with a handful of
grapes, I stare out over the vines at the great building. The tour group
climb back aboard the bus, having spent their money in the souvenir shop at
the château and the vehicle eventually disappears onto the highway at
Vougeot. They've missed the magic completely, I think to myself - it's
really too bad.
The path veers off in a number of directions as you approach the boundary
between the communes of Vougeot, Flagey-Échézeaux, and Vosne-Romanée.
Somewhat afraid that I might miss something along the way, I choose my route
carefully and make my way along and the narrow path toward the vineyards of
Grands Échézeaux, Clos St. Denis, and les Suchots. The wine of Échézeaux has
befallen to the same fate as many complex German labels – you can’t sell a
wine to North Americans with a label that they can’t pronounce. I happen to
love the sound of this name Échézeaux [Eh-shez-ow] and plan to capitalize on
the purchasing opportunity provided by its unfamiliarity.
The beauty of this route is that I can stop wherever I want and stare at the
scenery for as long as I like. There is literally no one else here - that is
until a car suddenly appears at the top of the next hill zigzagging its way
toward me around the endless divots and potholes. They stop at the edge of
le Richebourg - and without a second glance at the stately grand cru vines,
someone in the car asks if this road will take them to Chambolle-Musigny. I
happily point them in the right direction while warning about the washed out
shoulders ahead. As they pull away leaving the air filled with diesel
exhaust, a lady in the back seat shouts “You're almost there; it’s just over
the next hill.”
While I am well aware of the cause of her excitement, I am certainly not
prepared for the imminent truths that lie waiting beyond the crest of the
next hill.
Romanée-Conti is the vineyard source for the most expensive and rumoured
greatest wine in the world. I have yet to try it; perhaps some day the
opportunity will present itself, but I can't even begin to express the mixed
feelings that begin to unfold as this great vineyard appears before me. The
roadside is littered with people, cars, the occasional empty wine bottle,
and various other items left behind by the waves of daily visitors. It looks
uncomfortably cluttered by comparison to what I have seen thusfar (I have a
picture but I've decided not to post it). A group is toasting each other
with a bottle of sparkling wine. They clink their glasses as though they
have just conquered the summit of Everest or K2. As I approach,
another group asks if I will take their picture as they stand on the wall.
Of course I oblige and they thank me while exclaiming, "The greatest wine in
the world – yeah!" I don’t have the courage to ask if they've actually
tried it and it quickly dawns on me that I’ve just found the equivalent of
Niagara Falls in Burgundy. Indeed, this location may be a wonder of the
world - in terms of wine - but the obvious over popularity has stipped an
element of the magic from the grand cru to the point where the owners need
to place signs asking visitors to respect the vineyard.
Slightly further up the hillside and of no interest to the masses is a very
heavy and almost gothic style crucifix that marks the vineyard of aux
Raignots. I head for that point to escape the people and wait for the air to
clear. From here one can see Vougeot to the north and Nuits-Saint-Georges
beyond the crest to the south. The clouds break for a moment and the sun
shines on the sacred hillside as I watch a worker who is replacing the older
wooden stakes that support the training wires for the vines in the great
vineyard below. He seems immune to the people that flock to his site.
Romanée-Conti is actually rather understated and but for the signs asking
visitors not to enter the vineyard, the wall that surrounds this plot really
bares no difference to any other that I have passed to this point. After a
few minutes the crowd begins to dissipate and I make my way back down the
hill.
A much older stone cross marks this site and I sit on the wall for a while
to watch the wind as it pushes the scattering clouds across the top the
Côte. The air descends upon the leaves of the vines creating a gentle
rustling sound that reminds me of my children at home. It feels good to sit
here and just as I am about to keep moving toward the village, the gentleman
working in the field pauses his task and walks toward me.
"I saw you yesterday walking from Morey-Saint-Denis." he states in good
English.
“Yes, I'm working my way from Fixin to Santenay. I spent last night
Vougeot." I respond.
"That's a long way”, he smiles. “It's a good thing you are young."
"Sadly not as young as I once was", I laugh.
Having noticed the Canadian flag on my backpack the day before, he explains
that he has family in Montreal. We chat for a while about the difference in
French culture between the two countries and what reasons have led me to
Burgundy.
“Can I ask if this wine really lives up to its reputation?”
He pauses for a moment, reaches into the vines, and then from across the old
stone wall, he hands me a cluster of the most exalted fruit in the world.
“Here young man," he says, "now you can say that you have tried
Romanée-Conti in its purest form.”
We laugh and I thank him for his time.
“Bon voyage!” he shouts as he makes his way back into the vineyard.
The vines here are the source of both great wealth and prosperity and it is
widely recognized that the village Vosne-Romanée would not exist without
them; but then I suppose that conclusion could be drawn about many of these
tiny communes along the Côte d'Or. This fact seems rather obvious thoug
h
as I walk through the narrow walled streets here in Vosne. Each building is
marked with a plaque stating the name of the domaine within. Everything here
is related to wine and as with the vineyards that surround, its building are
somewhat understated as well.
Heading south from Vosne-Romanée, the great la Tache walks along beside me
for a few acres. I know people who claim to have held back tears at the
sight of these legendary vines. It is certainly something to see in person
and I can’t help but smile knowing where I have been this morning.
The terrain as you leave Vosne-Romanée rises gently to a point where the old
church steeples in Nuits-Saint-Georges become visible in the distance. There
are a surprising and somewhat bizarre number of snails scattered across the
roadway as I walk. In the 20 plus kilometres that I have covered so far, I
have not seen a single snail (not that I was looking for them either), yet
suddenly there are hundreds. The soil structure and composition is changing
and the minerals that feed the vines also attract other members of nature’s
small miracle here in Burgundy. If the wine of Vosne-Romanée is delicate and
complex, Nuits-Saint-Georges is known for it power and structure. The soil
in Burgundy combined with the exposure of the land determines the style of
these wines.
Across the country, winemakers in Bordeaux blend multiple grape varieties
from various plots to compensate for varying vintage conditions. But here in
Burgundy, while they are legally allowed to blend with up to 15 percent of
other varieties, blending is generally not practiced and therefore red
Burgundy is truly a solo performance by the Pinot Noir. The purity of
Burgundy, both red and white, and its relative transparency is what has
captured the attention of enthusiasts for years. You may doubt its greatness
as you stand in the wine shop staring at the shelves and elevated price
tags, but walk amongst the vines and you begin to understand how such a
relatively small place can have such a profound impact on the wine drinking
population.
Greatness takes a turn for the worst as I approach the town of
Nuits-Saint-Georges and I can't help but wonder if the person who owns the
modern low-rise pink apartment building that back onto the vineyards is
aware that his or her gaudy paint scheme is the first thing that people like
me see after they brush with legend and history in the valley before. The
sight leaves a sour taste in my mouth, as do the grapes as I stop to taste.
Far too much fruit still clings to the vines here; have they not harvested
yet? I can't imagine. Perhaps they accidentally missed a few rows. I've
looked at least a million vines by this point and I will dare to say that
the vineyards as I approach Nuits-Saint-George are not as well kept.
While the pink apartment complex continues to stare at me, I hear the sound
of children playing in the community ahead. My hotel is another 2km further
up the road, tucked into the trees of the Côte d’Or. As I make the first
turn into French suburbia, mud from my shoes leaves a trail of terroir on
the clean sidewalk behind as I pass by one new home after the next. In a
matter of footsteps everything has suddenly changed and I literally laugh
out loud at the thought of it all… I've seen far too much today; it's time
for a hot shower and a good meal.
read part 5 - Chassagne to Beaune
Tyler Philp is a member of the Wine Writers' Circle of Canada Please direct inquires for writing services to: info@tylerphilp.com |
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