Day 3 - Tuesday

The big national strike was today, though it didn’t seem to affect our horses or trusty guides. We set out from the inn and had one of the loveliest mornings yet. The October sun was golden on the vineyards and the forests we went through, and there was barely a cloud in the sky.

We got in some long trots and canters, in addition to crossing a bridge over an autoroute (click to see a video).

We also went through a number of tiny villages, another sign that France is one of the most rural countries in Europe. There were a lot of very simple one-story houses, of fairly new construction, no bigger than 1500 square feet, with children’s toys in front and raised swimming pools (at the nicest) in back. It was a reminder of how many French people aren’t bureaucrats – or strikers – but just hard-working people who do their jobs every day.  Very different from Paris. Also more wine-harvesting going on by these hard-working people.

After quite a long morning, maybe 3 ½ hours, we stopped on top of the hill at a chateau winery whose name eludes me at the moment. Sarah had already set up our picnic and the portable enclosure for the horses. Another completely different kind of fresh salad, with salmon pate and, bien sur, a cheese course. For dessert a moist chocolate brownie with crème anglaise. And some more of the local Bordeaux we carry around with us. We were quite relieved when Pierre said they were working so hard at the chateau that they didn’t have time to give us a tasting.

Dorothee and I took a nice talk around the property – not even all of it, actually – as the others napped. She and Hermann, though, didn’t feel up to riding in the afternoon after the very long morning.  Pierre, as always, had everything figured out. A young girl named Charlene (pictured in white) had already showed up, summoned by a phone call from Pierre we presume, in riding gear, and took Dorothee’s horse. Pierre got on Hermann’s horse and led his own, who not only was new to trail riding but had never been ponied before.

So off we went, me rather nervously in front, Pierre with the two horses behind, shouting directions, followed by Charlene and Sue. The country was less pretty; in some cases we were just wending our way along roads or crossing busy ones. There are two kinds of French drivers when it comes to horses: The ones who stop their cars and give you plenty of room, and the ones who nearly run you over. I encountered the latter kind on one occasion: Following Pierre’s instructions I rode onto the highway and raised my hand in a stop signal; the driver simply zoomed around us!! Note to all drivers, especially you new and future ones: ALWAYS stop or slow down for horses. Needless to say, no photos of this part.

We arrived safely at Chateau Belles-Graves, where the horses were to be stabled, and Sue and I got a really interesting tour.

It’s in the Pomerol region, which produces some of the finest wine in Bordeaux. Something to do with the soil, though every winery in the region has a Pomerol designation even though the band of good soil doesn’t include all the farms (though it does such famous ones as Petrus and Cheval Blanc.) Apparently some mayor at some point in the past said to the appellation controllee people: it’s all or nothing. So they all got it. Anyway, the wine was the best we’ve tasted yet and some boxes will be making their way to Paris shortly.

Hotel and dinner in Libourne not too far away, the best beef I’ve ever had in France. It says something about the days we are having that the five of us drank only one bottle of wine between us!