Where’d we leave off… Right, wine’d up and tired at Chateau Palmer.
Only one more chateau to go!
Chateau Gruaud La-Rose (have fun trying to pronounce that).
This place had an amazing steel tower that offered 360 degree views of the vineyards. For some reason I didn’t think to take a picture of it from ground level; I blame the alcohol.
It stuck out like a literal sore thumb, but not necessarily in a bad way. Nothing in the Medoc is very tall; buildings are very modest, maybe two or three stories at most. So you could see this tower from all around. It was a random dose of modern industriousness surrounded by old historic buildings. I kind of dug it.
Here’s a view of the property from the top.
And there’s our cheeky little driver, Roman, on the left. He was quite the character. We had a really good time with him all day, talking about: the vineyards, the chateaus, the celebs & Saudi princes & random Texans he’s driven around in the past, his Romanian homeland, how to spot crap Bordeaux wine from legit Bordeaux wine, and so much more. We learned more from him than any of the chateaus we visited.
At this point we’d heard the “Here’s how we make the wine” shbeel at least 3 times. Luckily this guy kept it short and sweet. It was a private tour again, and the pace was on point. No unnecessary small talk; he got right down to business.
This is what I call their Lord of the Rings basement, empty and ready for the 2015 batch of wine.
They had a vault in their wine cellar with vintages dating back to 1815. All the bottles back then were made by hand – look how derpy some of them are! Hah.
After the sneak peak into their winemaking process, it was back to the tasting room for everyone’s favorite part.
Spit bucket… er, wall. In the words of Roman: “There are two kinds of people in this world. Those who spit the wine, and those who drink the wine.”
Proud to be a drinker.
I really liked these. They were the first wines we’d been served all day that had at least 10 years of age on them, and it really made a difference. After finishing them off (and buying a few postcards at their gift shop, cause yay capitalism), Roman drove us back to the Grand Hotel de Bordeaux.
It was about 6pm by the time we got back to our room and we were totally spent. We walked down the road to a wine shop to get a bottle for dinner, then came back and ordered room service. Sweet, glorious room service.
No pictures, but I got beef tartare and french fries and Mark had a club sammie. Then we split a chocolate fudge dessert. Might have been one of the best room service experiences I’ve ever had. Even better than Mickey shaped waffles from the Grand Californian! (Blasphemy, but I said it.)
After letting our little food babies die down, it was time to pack and get ready for the final destination…
C O P E N H A G E N.