Bordeaux 2017 at Two Years
The tasting room at Petrus is one of the more minimalist in all Bordeaux; a long rectangular room, dressed with just a few tables and no chairs, it is well-lit and spacious, an expanse within which the shimmering yellows and reds of the label shine out like a beacon. During the primeurs the young (I increasingly find I can describe many people as young, more to do with my age than with theirs) Olivier Berrouet, bottle in hand, cruises from table to table, his relaxed and affable manner belying the status enjoyed by both the estate and its wine. On this occasion, however, there was no need for Olivier to move from one group of tasters to the next as he might do on a busy day during that madcap week in April. My visit was in early December, and Olivier and I were the only two souls in the room; I was here to taste 2017 Petrus, one visit among many during a whistle-stop tour of the region to revisit this recently-bottled vintage.
Having spent half and hour picking over the 2017 Bordeaux vintage with Olivier (pictured), I set my wine glass down on the tabletop one last time, and took my leave. As I bid farewell, Olivier wished me good luck in my return to the UK; France was gripped by strike action (again), and I was due to fly back the following day. I thanked him for his concern but I hoped his worries were ill-founded; as far as I was aware, my flight was set to take off as scheduled. Instead, I turned my attention to my next appointment, at Château L’Évangile.
You can probably guess what happens next in this little tale; I had just pulled off the autoroute south of Nantes late in the evening that same day when I received the text message telling me my flight had been cancelled. A hurried hour of roadside activity ensued; I grabbed one of the last few available seats on the next flight out of Nantes, a full three days later. I extended my hire car period as much I could, found some accommodation, and cancelled what commitments I had in the UK over the ensuing three days. Stranded in the region until my flight, I made good use of my time making some visits in Muscadet (thanks to Rémi Branger and Vincent & François Lieubeau), and I enjoyed soaking up the festive atmosphere in Clisson, a beautiful town blessed with Medieval bridges and Tuscan architecture. And so, from my point of view, it all came good in the end. Others, of course, found themselves in a different situation; I have a young friend (do you see what I mean about everybody else being young?) who spent £2000 repatriating her family after a short trip to Disneyland Paris that same weekend, the only airline that was still flying being thoroughly committed to the concept of price gouging in times of need.
