Upon our Carcassonne departure, I thought it would be fun to begin on local departmentale roads and then link with up the Autoroute (A7) to head into Avignon.
There’s such freedom in having a car, and were it not for Maman, who kept me in line, we probably never would have made it to any of our desitinations because I simply couldn’t stop stopping.
Really now, how could I be expected to not stop when the ruins of chateaux and Roman sites are literally on the side of the road or roadside hilltops. It’s all just too too good to not pass up!
Not to mention, all the family owned and run wineries. We passed through some amazing Wine regions, including the home of the Corbieres, a personal Maman favorite.
On our leisurely drive through the small town of Capendu, I slammed on the brakes while passing this iconic statue:
Now seems the perfect time to take a quick jaunt back to my childhood. My brothers and I loved watching the Blues Brothers. I even got my BFF in on our late night Blues Brothers watching, where we’d have to pause the VHS and act out scenes. We even went as the BBs one Halloween. Rather creative, now that I think about it.
Oh, the fond memories of those VHS days — you know, I do actually remember Beta. My father couldn’t bear to throw away our player. Finally when I was in 7th grade and had a friend over for dinner, who very loudly asked what that thing was — Dad was able to part with it. But I was sad to see it go. Wonderful nights with popcorn, Rainbow Bright, Care Bears and Strawberry Shortcake. If I was lucky, all four in the same night. Never could make it all the way through one of those.
So, naturally, I couldn’t resist a necessary photo-op, which I entitle: En Motion (faites attention: I’m so fond of that scarf, I had just purchased it that morning in Carcassonne. I’m sure you all were just dying to know that super important info).
After a number of looks that read “what the hell is that girl doing” and a few honks, we were (back) on our way, passing through the oh so charming town of Conilhac Corbieres (direction Narbonne, for those of you familiar with France).
I had just passed a sign for Chateaux Vieux Parc and suggested we stop but Maman wasn’t feeling it. Being the dutiful daughter I am, I kept on driving.
For about two minutes.
When I promptly came to my senses, and exclaimed, “We’re in France! What the F do you think we’re supposed to do! Keep driving by wineries WITHOUT stopping!”
I love it when my mother gets this super calm look of reason on her face — it either means she’s pissed off or is in total agreement. Of course, this was the look of complete, total agreement. She had come to her wine loving senses.
Turns out, the French are quite generous with their wine tastings. Half a class. After two of these, and seven bottles to go, I knew I didn’t stand a chance. I graciously bowed out and when Louis wasn’t looking, poured mine into Maman’s glass.
During our tete a tete tasting, we learned that Louis was the fourth generation to operate Chateau du Vieux Parc. And he proudly added in that his son would be the fifth and his grandson the sixth. Let’s hope they like wine as much as he does.
The wines at Vieux Parc were incredible! Naturally, we felt utterly obligated to purchase. Especially since Louis opened up the entire tasting room … just for us little ‘ol americaines. We left revived, particularly Maman, who claimed she had never felt better (and I believed her), lugging six bottles in a beautiful cardboard carrying case.
Only the French can make a cardboard wine holder look and actually be chic. Now that’s talent.
