Bordeaux 2023 Primeurs: St Estèphe
I landed at Bordeaux’s airport 40 minutes late, which for Ryanair is ahead of schedule. After collecting my luggage, which thankfully found its way onto the same flight, I headed to the car rental office and after some brief negotiations I had the keys to my hire car. I began the button-pressing walk, heading down the row of cars randomly pointing and pressing my key until one of the sleeping vehicles woke in response.
One set of amber indicators flashed.
And there it stood. A bright red Suzuki Swift, shimmering in the warm Bordeaux sunshine. Yes, red. Not silver, and not black. And not one of the other colours common with hire cars, such as silver or black. No, it was red.
I slipped behind the wheel, and slowly guided my new chariot from the airport parking. Before long I found myself on the open road, heading north along the Médoc.
Progress was good. The roads were clear, and the sun was shining. Having left behind the first wave of a new Ice Age in Scotland, the heat in Bordeaux had taken me by surprise. I turned up the fan and switched on the air conditioning. A cool breeze blew over me, and it was not too long before things had swung the other way. Too hot, then too cold. What was this, the Médoc menopause?
Keeping my eyes on the road, I jabbed at the air-conditioning button, and turned down the fan. But the cold flow of air grew only stronger, and before long it was like a rushing wind. And was that a clanking noise, like the rattling of chains, I could hear?
