Wines from Roussillon and Languedoc

Autumn and the Wine Trip

Once the autumn harvest is over, Germany's cheerful autumn mood usually disappears too. Now things turn nasty. The heavens open as if there were no tomorrow, and while temperatures have not quite hit rock bottom, they are low enough to usher in layered dressing, complete with all its sweating, shivering and smells. And that is precisely when you make the right decision. Get out of here. Far away. Somewhere with at least 6 hours of sunshine and 20 degrees waiting for you. And somewhere they make deep-red wine.

There is plenty of choice. Dreamy southern European islands around Greece spring to mind, the Spanish coast, or perhaps a little further afield to California. Clearly, these are all wonderful options. Yet some people are drawn back to France time and again. Why? Because here there is a harmony of laissez-faire, taste, style and history that you simply cannot find in quite the same way elsewhere. And so autumn becomes an invitation, issued by the calendar, to the southernmost corner of our neighbouring country.

Southern France as an Open Secret

Coffee in the morning, conversation over baguette and ham at lunchtime, and wine in the evening are a wonderful expression of having understood what life should be about. When all this can take place within walls more than 1,500 years old, as in Collioure, the eyes and ears are equally fulfilled. Perhaps we should not forget the mussels, entrecôtes, mushrooms and so on and so forth at this point — quite right. There is still more here to set the heart racing.

Mas Christine in Argeles

As almost everywhere in France, vines abound. As far as the eye can see. Naturally, on the 80,000 roundabouts too. Turn right, a small, rather inconspicuous sign — Mas Christine. The road, if you can even call this bone-rattling track a road, is more suited to an immediate U-turn or a large SUV. But no, we are only driving a hire car. It has to be able to manage this. Or at least it ought to withstand it.
Mas Christine
The next view looks more like an old brewery or a recycling centre. As with the thoughts that run through your mind on any first encounter, the first impression is decisive here too. The verdict — well, let's see. Rather so-so.

But then comes that special moment that distinguishes a wine trip from a package holiday. Questions whirl through your head, and the person opposite makes an earnest effort to answer them all in French.

Red Wine in the Stainless-Steel Tank

Yes, the French have patience and stamina, as long as you approach them in their own language. And so, after just 5 minutes, a little wine tasting featuring an oak-dominated Grenache blanc and a cuvée rouge turns into a winery tour with a difference. Where back home only steel and wooden barrels gleam, here stands an upright ceramic “tower”, an eye-catcher for its pattern alone.

And next to it, the lid sits askew on the stainless-steel tank. Anyone who does not take a look cannot love wine. The winemaker spots this immediately and invites us to take a first look at the new 2016 vintage. A sea of grapes floats on top, and a taste already hints at how much weight is still to come.

A Winemaker from England

The French becomes more challenging, technical terms follow one another in quick succession, and now comes the grand finale of customer service. In an instant, a halting French conversation turns into an analysis, in perfect Oxford English, of the last few vintages down here at the very bottom of France. Here, where it has not been cold enough for the vines to shut down and reawaken properly, and where downpours simply wipe away entire hillsides.

And here a wish comes true that, as a consumer, you probably cannot have fulfilled everywhere. The bottle named Red Socks has its origins two halls further along. There stand two 225-litre wooden barrels, bubbling away. That is the sole source of the red socks. From treading.

What does it feel like? Very warm and wonderful — with hands stained this deep red, a delightful painting class for adults would be child's play. And all this from an Englishman? Apparently it works down here, in the southernmost corner. Because there is much more besides. “Neuschwanstein” and wine, for example.
Autumn does have its beautiful sides. In France.