Free Run 
- The not so secret diary of a master of wine

Sat. May 3^rd 2003
Displeasure at waking up after only 5 hours sleep relieved by inspiring view of dawn breaking over misty vineyards. 15 lucky names have come out of hat and they head back to airport for helicopter ride over the vineyards, before heading for Ch. Pape Clement. Sadly I’m not in the flying wine taster club and take another taxi that’s doing its bit to reduce France’s national debt by fleecing foreigners.

Catch up with rest of group getting tour of facilities. Recent vintages of Pape Clement have been good in a modern style. Their USB seems to be employing 120 people to de-stem berries individually by hand prior to ferment. Seems insane, but something clearly working. Tasting is in large barrel ageing cellar and to our surprise includes a series of wines, all barrel samples, from North Africa and Languedoc bearing Gerard Depardieu’s name, as well, of course as recent Pape Clement vintages. Several of samples seem both oxidised and over extracted to me - sorry Gerard but acting seems to be your stron point. Turns out owner and the god of French film have a joint venture company. Lunch served in a large room at the end of the barrel hall separated by an enormous glass wall, which mercifully I manage not to work into. Sit at same table as John Salvi and discover he has helped plan almost all the meals. God help us all, as this man is an Olympic class luncher. Waddle back to bus for trip back to hotel.

Back at ranch suitcase has turned up. Change into suit and discover that I’ve forgotten to pack a tie. Hugo Rose is horrified and insists on lending me one. Next segment is talk from Jean-Marie Chadronnier of Dourthe Kressman outlining role, history and future of the negociant as he sees it. Seems a man with more vision than most. Says A.C. should be a guarantee of quality not origin in response to a question.

Back on bus to Bordeaux and the mess of road works caused by building same tram system as currently being installed in Dublin too. We should be twinned. Eventually reach very grand town hall for welcome reception from deputy mayor. Entire room looks round at me in horror as mobile goes off a minute into deputy mayor’s speech. Wish floor would open as grab frantically for phone. Speeches over, we stand around, bored, like lemons for an hour.

Finally press on, on foot, through road works, to CIVB offices for welcome dinner. Salvi has planned five courses and a slue of wines from the eighties. Cheval Blanc ‘88 slips down better than  Latour ‘83, you know how it is. Grin inanely on coach back to hotel.
 

Sunday May 3^rd 2003
Red-letter day begins with trip to Vatican, sorry meant Ch. d’Yquem. Hugo Rose inspects troops to see if we’re all smart enough to visit the holy citadel. Horrified to note Sally Easton wearing jeans. Somewhat relieved to discover Comte Alexandre is wearing a baseball cap, not a bishop’s frock and hat. Fascinating talk about hows and whys of making d’Yquem as we stand outdoors on a blustery sunny morning. Seems the wind flapping our clothes at the top of the hill is a vital factor. Comte points out the neighbours. Someone whispers that he’s left a couple out and wonders if it’s deliberate. Move inside to cellar and even more questions – someone asks if they use cyroextraction – freezing the water out of grapes to concentrate juice. Comte shrugs and says they have a walk in freezer but only use it to chill beer for grape pickers! Finally get to taste the amber nectar – my first time. Mention this to Bob Campbell, who says he recently attended a tasting of 27 vintages. Green with envy. Says he spat them all, but I can’t spit the ‘98 or ‘88. Comment to someone this would be great with a sliver of foie gras on toast, just as a white gloved, silver salver-bearing waiter appears offering exactly that! Clearly a higher authority was listening.

Have to be dragged away to get bus to Ch Suduiraut for major Sauternes tasting. 27 wines from ‘97 and ‘99 laid out in winery. This much dessert wine is a treat but hard to take. Eventually reel away for a glass of vintage champagne with sticky hands, face and pen.  Array of nibbles available, which ought to constitute lunch, but natch there’s a beautiful buffet to be consumed outdoors in the 30°C sunshine at a table with Daniel Llose. Eventually, reluctantly board bus to Smith Haut Lafitte for relaxed tour. Present owners, both former Olympic skiers, have totally revamped place in last few years from top to bottom. Wines are much improved. Once again there’s an immaculate, enormous barrel hall or two. As we leave Mark de Vere points out that vineyards out front have more gravel than those at the back. Just terroir or is it tourist grade gravel? Does such a thing exist? 

Mon 5^th May 2003 
Wake to pouring rain and immediately feel at home. First stop is Cheval Blanc where youthful and frighteningly intelligent Cornelius van Leeuwen gives discourse, in dark as lights have failed, on their soils and effect on grape growing. Reveals he has mapped soils at Ch. Latour and discovered layers of gravel and clay that they didn’t know about. You’d think they’d have dug a few holes in the last few hundred years before now. Taste 2002 and '98. Van Leeuwen says '98 is a great year. All murmur appreciation except Peter Koff and I. Suspect touch of Brettanomyces on my sample. Koff tastes all the bottles and says others were much better. California based Koff is renowned as the chief of the brett police and denounces it everywhere we go with venom of a Republican politician outing communists in the McCarthy era. English wine trade and French seem blind to it, indeed many welcome it as adding complexity.

Flying visit in lashing rain to the trendy and modern Ch. Troplong Mondot. Christine Valette gives my kind of tour – “these are the tanks and these are the barrels, we can taste now”. Barrels are in brand new cellar behind wall of glass, strong enough to withstand my attempt to walk through it! Most impressive feature may be the wall-mounted spittoon that looks like a Philippe Starke urinal. Sniffing wine and admiring stunning portrait photography on wall in tasting room when tapped on shoulder by Sarah Wright, late of Jim Nicholson’s and Findlaters’ who’s working out this way and was invited tasting by Salvi. A small world. 

On through the rain to Vignobles Trocard and tasting of St Émilion satellites in art lined cellar. Does art mellow the wine? Koff says he knows a South African biodynamic estate that plays classical music to its wines as they age. Depressingly the wines are more miss than hit with over extraction, over oaking and plain old manky hygiene the main problems. Another large lunch goes down well with some older wines. On way out note barrels are being loaded onto a truck destined for a DIY store. They sell them on for €15 to make plant holders or furniture after four years. Seems cheap as they cost about €500 new. Romanian winemakers should probably offer €20.

Local inhabitant Fiona Morrison (Le Pin) narrates a tour of Pomerol and its plateau (but sadly is polite about her neighbours) before we pull up at the offices if the Pomerol Syndicate.  Called here in February seeking directions to Le Pin with Tomas Clancy of the Sunday Business Post. They were wonderfully, classically arrogant and French as they sneered and said we couldn’t visit and almost choked when we said we’d an appointment for lunch and offered us directions by way of a vague wave of the arm. Fortunately this time tasting is hosted by the brilliant, but modest, Jean-Claude Berrouet who’s responsible for Pétrus amongst others. Taste pairs of 2001 & '98. Don’t rate '98 as highly as the natives.  

Scheduled 30-minute beer break has disappeared and we head straight to the absurdly picturesque town of St Émilion passing the house and van of Paddy O’Flynn of the Wine Buff on the way. Eyes are glazing over as we get another lecture on 2001 & '98 vintages and tasting of pairs of these from about 10 St Émilion Grand Crus. Ausone stars but sadly I’m too tired to take much in.  

With no respite we head for Ch. Figeac and a tour and dinner. House is beautiful warm and lived in. Salvi must be in his element as dinner is five courses and 12 wines including '97 Le Pin and '82 Figeac. Latter has disconcertingly leafy nose but palate as silky as you imagine an angel’s knickers might be. Despite late hour get second wind and a few of us have comparative tasting of Heineken and Kronenbourg 1664, back at Clos de la Tour.

Head up the D2 to village of Margaux and Ch. Lascombes. Manage to empty contents of bottle of water over trousers and feel and look like I’ve peed myself. Thankfully suit is navy so doesn’t show too much. Lascombes now owned by a consortium of mostly American and Irish investors including Ryanair’s founding owner, Tony Ryan. Budget travel was never like this, as they seem to have thrown money at everything and drastically reduced yields in an attempt to improve quality and have succeeded to my mind. During en primeur tastings in April, Robert Joseph said he thought Lascombes tasted like a right bank garage wine. Which is about twice as good as it used to, I say. Barrel hall with its blue lighting could double as a nightclub, just as well as one shareholder is a partner in Dublin’s ‘Vaults’ bar/club.

Sit with Stuart Todd over lunch and discover his strong family and business links with Ireland particularly C & C. During lunch word has clearly gotten round of the Haut Brion tasting, so an imperial of ’66 hastily appears. It’s a beauty and sadly we’re forced back to the bus before it’s finished. Swift departure is to avoid being late at Ch. Margaux. They, like everyone else have immaculate cellar with barrels seemingly aligned by laser and stained a uniform red in the center band (see picture on home page). Beginning to suspect that there’s nothing but water in them as it’s all so clinical and perfect, especially after detour downstairs to second barrel hall which is like walking into a Dickens novel set in Hades. Air is filled with sulphur and steam (but looks like smoke), candles and sweating bodies as stained, scratched, real barrels are manhandled around. At last, real people working – a first in Bordeaux at a classified growth, in my experience. ‘02 & ’98 (touch of Brett on later) tasted despite dropped hints of what Haut Brion and Lascombes laid on. Oh well, can’t win them all. Trudge back to bus for ride to Rausan Segla, another property that has upgraded in recent years. John Kolasa explains how much work has gone into drainage, which resulted in flooding Margaux village! Property owned by people who own Chanel perfume, apt given this commune’s propensity to produce perfumed wines. Not sure whether to dab sample behind ears as well as sniff and sip.

Remarkably we leave ahead of schedule, a first, and head for Léoville-Barton for dinner. Inevitably this cause confusion when we arrive before they are really ready for us. Anthony Barton has his finger on pulse when he says “You don’t want to see the cellar do you? There’s nothing different in it to anyone else’s. Let’s have some Champagne in the garden”.  Sit at same table as Anthony Barton during dinner and despite previous visits this is the first time we’ve met. He’s as charming, witty and handsome (so the girls tell me) as I’d heard. He’s famous for reasonable prices and has just released his wine for €21 per bottle (£240 per case from Bibendum) and says he can make money at this level, so others can too. Does admit to losing money in ’92. Sadly after meal we must head back to Bordeaux and check into new hotel before slumping like sack of potatoes onto bed.

 
Wed. 7th May 2003
Up early and back up the Médoc with ham roll on the bus for breakfast to Ch. Lagrange. Program has billed a tasting of Médoc cru classé from ’53 and 2000, but sadly only the 2000s are available. Tasted most twice before and horrified to find Gruaud Larose, previously considered an epic wine, has developed a touch of Brett that has made the tannins astringent and the finish sour. Marcel Ducasse lays on a blind tasting of three different varieties that combine in Lagrange. Precisely 3 out of 40 of us name them all correctly! He kindly says they show more terroir than varietal character. Lack of ‘53s gives time to walk round beautiful gardens before boarding bus for Ch. Cos’d’Estournal and its unique pagodas. Jean-Guillaume Prats has laid on a tasting of his Grand Vin’s component parts. Scent of tobacco turns out not to be from wine but man smoking upstairs! Prats talks candidly about his wines and Bordeaux in general and claims to think people have gone too far with low yields, pre-ferment sorting of berries and excessive prices. Nevertheless, his wines taste fairly modern and they can hardly be called cheap. Still raining, but they have a stack of ‘Cos’ branded umbrellas to keep us dry as we head for the bus and Ch. Pichon Longueville – Comtesse de Lalande.

The two Pichons face one another directly across the narrow D2 road and I was told some completely unrepeatable stories about how they haven’t always, shall we say, got on.  However, inside Pichon – Comtesse (not how they like to abbreviate it) all is sweetness and light as we tour a virtual glass museum with hundreds of artifacts dating back centuries and even millennia. Tasting is in a first floor gallery with doors to a patio, lawn and pool with views across to Latour. How wonderful it must be to sit here on a sunny day, glass of stunning red in hand reading the Sunday papers. Sipping wine and strolling round exhibits find one devoted to the Irish ‘Wine Geese’ pointing out that Ireland of the 17^th and 18^th century was recognised as having a greater appreciation of fine claret than any other country. Some of us like to think not much has changed.

Pace is relentless as we press on for Mouton and a gala dinner. Putting on tie on bus when mobile rings. Wife Cathy says caller says I’m supposed to have an article submitted for thewineroom.ie by 10am tomorrow. Some chance. Arrive at Mouton to find gravel path is immaculately raked in lines. Mouton’s museum is a must see if you’ve never been, but I have a few times before. Private cellar has an astonishing collection of older bottles from Mouton and their most illustrious neighbours going back many decades and probably centuries.

Mouton of course won’t be trumped at dinner and there’s a Clerc Milon '83, d’Armailhac '66 and the star turn, Mouton ’53. Oh and a d’Yquem '83 with dessert. Big bottle variation to report, even when stored perfectly. One Mouton was corked and some very different d’Yquems doing the rounds. I’m not complaining, but would love to see someone put this quality of wine in screw cap and compare it regularly over 50 years. Humorous after dinner speeches include information that Tony Blair, also 50 years old this week got a case of ’89 Mouton. We got the ’53! Had he opposed war in Iraq, who knows, maybe it would have been reversed. 

Exiting Mouton discover that the gravel path has been re-combed or raked whilst we ate. Gravel clearly very serious in Medoc. Speculation mounts as to whether they employ a ‘Maitre de Gravier’ to keep paths and vineyards permanently ready for picture snapping visitors.  

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