Bordeaux 2024 Primeurs: The Rest of the Left
The lift door slid open with a gentle grating noise, and I emerged into the gloom of the underground car park. Stepping tentatively out into the abyss, I was grateful for the fluorescent tubes which began to flicker into life, lighting sensors having responded to my movement. I soon found Twingo nestled in the far corner, squeezed between two gigantic concrete pillars, which no doubt served to support the seven floors of the hotel directly overhead.
Easing Twingo up the exit ramp and out into the crepuscular light, we began to feel our way through the city of Bordeaux. Our destination was north, to mop up on the left bank, in the appellations of Moulis-en-Médoc, Listrac-Médoc, Haut-Médoc and, furthest north of all, the Médoc appellation itself.
“What sort of hotel was that?” muttered Aubrey Ealdwyn de Latour from the back seat. “Please tell me so I can avoid it in future.”
“That was an Ibis Budget. It’s cheap and, errr, well, it’s cheap.”
“And so it should be,” retorted Aubrey. “The mattress might as well have been a stack of cardboard for all the comfort it offered, and the pillows were nothing more than a loose agglomeration of lumps.” He cocked his head from side to side, rubbing his neck as he did so. “I didn’t think a near-invisible wraith such as myself could suffer such a stiff neck, but it seems I can. And is that where the UGC puts you up for the night?”
“Oh no,” I replied, also rubbing my own neck, which also ached, “that came out of my pocket.”
“Ah, that explains it,” concluded Aubrey, who let the words hang in the air for a while, as if to reinforce their bite.
“Anyway,” he continued after a while, “where’s Taylor?”
“Oh, we’re picking her up on the way. She is staying at the Villas Foch. Here it is on the left.”
Twingo came to a stop at the side of the Cours du Maréchal Foch, a beautiful tree-lined avenue, and clearly one of the more swanky streets in Bordeaux.
“Blow my wig!” exclaimed Aubrey. “Look at this place! How come she stays here, while we’re stuck down on skid row? Why couldn’t we stay here as well?”
“Two reasons,” I replied. “First, we’re looking at the value end of Bordeaux today, left-bank wines from outside the four big communal appellations. Taylor thought we should get into a budgetary mood, with a night in a budget hotel, so that we were in the right frame of mind. Both she and the UGC advised it.”
“Uh-huh,” replied Aubrey, his tone sounding distinctly unconvinced. “And the second reason?”
“Like I said, I footed last night’s bill. Taylor, meanwhile, was put up here by the UGC. It’s in her contract.”
Taylor slipped into the passenger seat, checking her watch as she did so. “Stop chatting and put your foot down,” she ordered. “We need to be at Château Lestage by 9 am.”
I did as I was told. Just to remind you, I always do.
-o-
In the course of my time in the Bordeaux region I made only a handful of visits which pertain to these reports, such as Château Lestage, Château du Retout (pictured below) and one or two others. The vast majority of wines were encountered at more generic tastings, with consultants, négociants or other bodies.
Tasting through the 83 wines presented below, it seemed clear to me that this had been a difficult vintage for those working in these more peripheral left-bank appellations.
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