Bordeaux
"Bordeaux spent centuries making wine and a decade remembering it was also a city. Now it excels at both."
Bordeaux was, for most of my life, a city you drove through on your way to the vineyards. The center was grey, the facades blackened by traffic exhaust, the waterfront industrial. Then the city cleaned its limestone buildings, built the Miroir d’Eau — a reflecting pool on the Place de la Bourse that has become one of the most photographed spots in France — added a tram system, and transformed itself into a place people actually want to visit. The transformation is genuine and remarkable. The 18th-century architecture, now gleaming pale gold, rivals Paris. The restaurant scene has exploded. And the wine, of course, was always there.
The wine regions surrounding the city are sacred ground. On the Left Bank, the Médoc produces the great Cabernet Sauvignons — Margaux, Pauillac, Saint-Julien, Saint-Estèphe — from châteaux that range from modest farmhouses to genuine palaces. On the Right Bank, Saint-Émilion and Pomerol make Merlot-dominant blends of extraordinary depth. I grew up hearing these names the way other children heard the names of football teams, and visiting the domaines still gives me a particular thrill that I suspect is partly cultural inheritance and partly just good wine.
Saint-Émilion deserves a full day. The medieval village — steep cobblestoned streets, a monolithic church carved from solid rock, rampart views over vineyards that stretch to the horizon — is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and one of the most beautiful wine villages in the world. The underground church, dug by monks in the 8th century, is worth the guided tour. The macarons from the bakeries on the main street are an unexpected specialty — lighter and more almond-forward than the Parisian version.
Back in the city, the Cité du Vin is a wine museum housed in a building that looks like a decanting carafe and contains exhibits that manage to make the science and culture of wine genuinely fascinating to experts and novices alike. The tasting room at the top, with its 360-degree views over the Garonne, is the best place to begin your Bordeaux education — or, in my case, to continue one that started at the family dinner table when I was probably too young for it.
The food scene draws from the Atlantic and the countryside: oysters from Arcachon, entrecôte bordelaise, canelés — the small rum-and-vanilla pastries with a caramelized crust that are Bordeaux’s signature sweet and that no one else has ever made as well.
When to go: April to June for pleasant weather and the en primeur tastings (April). September for the harvest. The Bordeaux wine festival in June (biennial) takes over the entire waterfront.