The water of life
As the cognac houses and wineries of south-west France increasingly open their doors to the public, a trip to Bordeaux and Cognac reveals the history behind our favourite tipples
Words Juliet Rix
The Miroir d’eau draws plenty of visitors (Alamy)
Bordeaux and Cognac. Across the globe, these names conjure images – and maybe tastes – of rich vin rouge and golden spirit. Few will immediately think of the historic towns in south-western France after which these drinks are named. But the two remain inextricably linked, and a visit to the region brings them deliciously together in a haze of creamy stone cities and lines of green vines, ancient monuments and modern museums, global brands and small family makers.
The relationship between this part of France and alcohol goes way back. Rémy Martin might be celebrating its 300th anniversary this year, but it’s not nearly the oldest of the cognac houses. And even those venerable producers are mere striplings when compared with the area’s history of wine production, which probably began with the Romans making vinum in Burdigala (Bordeaux).
Fittingly, it was here, in France’s UNESCO-listed ‘City of Wine’, where I began my journey. Bordeaux’s historic heart, built from local limestone, glowed as if washed in sweet Sauternes. My eye was caught by the grandeur of the merchants’ houses lining the crescent curve of the Garonne River (which gives the city its ‘Port of the Moon’ moniker). This was once the busiest port in the world after London, and for centuries it was also the only route to market for the region’s wine.
The Latitude20 wine cellar at the Cité du Vin contains 14,000-plus bottles of wine from 70 countries (Alamy)
Today, the 18th-century Place de la Bourse – an iconic sight when it was built – is once again the most admired spot in the city. The glistening, Instagram-friendly reflection of its palatial buildings in the 21st-century Miroir d’eau (Water Mirror) draws visitors aplenty. I, however, chose to leave them behind, walking through cobbled streets and elegant squares until I came to the Gothic Cathedral of St André.
It was here that the 15-year-old Eleanor of Aquitaine was wed to the future King Louis VII in 1137, an early milestone in a notable life. Having ticked off Queen of France, she later married Henry Duke of Normandy, who then acceded to the English throne as Henry II, making her Queen of England. Loyal to her hometown, Eleanor awarded Bordeaux a monopoly on wine imports to her new kingdom, beginning a special relationship that (with a few bumps) continues to this day.
“Bordeaux’s Fete le Vin is the largest wine fair in France”
The British were not only key consumers of wine, but in due course also became makers and traders (you may still notice Anglo names on Bordeaux wine labels). Upriver, in the Chartrons district, merchants – first Dutch, then British and Irish – built stylish homes that were more than residences. Behind their fashionable frontages lay working wineries and long, low chais (above-ground cellars). You can see inside one of them – the former residence of Louis XV’s royal wine broker – at the Bordeaux Wine and Trade Museum.
At 89 Quai des Chartrons (now the US consulate), there are more ghostly reminders of the area’s wine-trading past. I paused at the front to look at a small relief of Thomas Jefferson. The American ambassador to France and president-to-be was here in the 1780s “for his health”.
A passionate oenophile, Jefferson had planted vines in the US and was trying to make his own wine; it proved an enterprise less successful than politics. Heading down a passageway at the side of the building, I found echoes of the past on the limestone wall: circles left by the ends of barrels that were stacked here before being rolled to waiting ships. It’s a history that still resonates today.
The Fountain of Three Graces in Bordeaux’s Place de la Bourse (Alamy)
All the fun of the fair
In the distance, the masts of tall ships rose like signposts from the past, as if still awaiting a hull full of wine. Three of these spectacular vessels visit each year for the Bordeaux Fête le Vin, the largest wine fair in France. I’d arrived just as it was kicking into gear.
Wooden stalls ranged across a kilometre of the riverfront. So, with my festival pass in hand (which included 11+ tastings), I took a gustatory wander through some of Bordeaux’s six major wine regions, 65 appellations and thousands of winemakers, from Saint-Émilion to Sauternes. And as the sky darkened, I turned my eyes upward for the drone show, to see lights form and reform into falling vine leaves, pouring bottles and emptying glasses.
This festival is paradise for the viti-curious. Often, the person filling your glass is the producer themself – a growing number of whom are women. It was here I met Sabine Silvestrini of Château Chéreau, who told me of the difficulties the region’s winemakers face.
“It’s a challenging time, with consumers drinking less red wine and climate change bringing more extreme and unpredictable weather,” she explained.
Indeed, some 75% of the region’s wineries are trying to reduce their carbon footprint; even the fair boasts of its water-refill points, its recycling of everything from paper to corks, and its ban on single-use plastic. Sabine also told me that the tough times meant that many wineries are now opening to visitors, offering new experiences to travellers.
The wine of Château Marquis d’Alesme Becker (Juliet Rix)
Distant neighbours
With Sabine’s words in mind, I headed to Médoc and was soon surrounded by vines. Many were dotted with pink and red roses, like jewels adorning a sea of green. Originally placed here as colourful ‘canaries in the coal mine’ to monitor mildew attacking the grapes, the warnings proved too late and the flowers are now merely decorative.
Passing château after château, I arrived in the pretty village of Margaux, one of Médoc’s best known appellations. You might think that one winery looks much like another, but the pair I visited here, separated by just 250m (so with near-identical terroir), were as different as they could be, even though they had similar attributes. Both were female-led, manually harvested, organic Grand Cru vineyards, yet there the similarity ended.
Château Ferriere, with its simple château building, is unobtrusive and conventional in appearance. Yet that facade belies the innovations going on here. This winery is wholly biodynamic – it even makes its own fertiliser by burying manure in a cow’s horn for six months. Tasting the wines in their smart roadside shop, I found them complex and minerally, with fruit notes and powerful tannins. In short: they were characteristically Médoc.
“Some 75% of the region’s wineries are now trying to reduce their carbon footprint”
Up the road, at Château Marquis d’Alesme Becker, a turreted storybook manor house lords it over the vines. But this house no longer belongs to the winemakers; instead, the winery buildings are of 21st-century design, merging local traditions with touches of Asia – silvery dragon scales, rounded moon doors – that reference the owner’s dual heritage.
During the tour of its vineyards, I learnt about the different grapes used, while an intriguing ‘Scented Tales’ smelling activity revealed how small variations in place, variety and process can lead to diversity in wines of apparently similar origin. Their single wine, quite unlike any of their neighbour’s, turned out to be a full-bodied, fruity red that slipped silkily down with concerning ease.
The endless vineyards of Cognac (Juliet Rix)
The Cité du Vin’s metallic curved structure is supported by internal wooden ribs, like those of a wine barrel (Juliet Rix)
The angel’s share
My next tasting – a couple of short train rides away – was rather stronger. In the 16th century, Dutch merchants found that the wine they shipped from here to the Netherlands often arrived spoiled, so they started distilling it into eau de vie (a colourless brandy); they called this brandewijn (burnt wine), or brandy. It was not long before they began to distil it twice, concentrating the liquor so that it took up less space in transit. Thus, the spirit cognac was born. Although the process has undoubtedly matured, it is still double-distilled, aged in oak barrels and must come from white grapes sourced from five areas around the town of Cognac – my next stop.
The sweet smell of fresh-cut wood welcomed me into Hennessy’s cooperage, which is newly opened to the public. It stands on the scenic Charente river, a historic waterway that, like Bordeaux’s Garonne, leads to the Atlantic and overseas markets. Here, the largest cognac house constructs and repairs some of the half-a-million barrels that hold its spirit, using woodworking methods older even than the neighbouring Tours St-Jacques, the city’s last surviving medieval gateway (under restoration and soon to open to the public).
I watched transfixed as cooper Jean-Baptiste skilfully fitted staves into a metal ring before placing this stiff skirt over an open fire. Flames glimmered between the planks as he wet the wood and tightened, wet and tightened, slowly bending the wood until he could slip on the lower ring. He then carefully ‘toasted’ the inner surface, causing a rich burnt-wood aroma to waft across the workshop; one that would soon infuse the cognac.
Jumping into a Hennessy electric boat, I took a peaceful mini-cruise across the river to visit the house’s exhibition halls and VR experience. I was then led into the cellar to stand among real barrels, the smell of their liquor lusciously overwhelming. This vapour, known as the ‘angel’s share’, escapes during the ageing process. As such, large cellars have been banished from town due to the fire risk.
Tending the grapes at Château Marquis d’Alesme Becker (Juliet Rix)
Can’t knock the hustle
“These two are mine; these are my father’s, my grandfather’s and my great-grandfather’s,” said Thomas. In one sense, he told me, nothing has changed; in another, everything has: “They are all cognac, but this was made entirely by hand using wood fires… this with a tractor and gas… and this with a computer.
“About 98% of France’s cognac is exported – the French prefer whiskey”
The Remy Martin e-bike tour takes you out into the countryside and vineyards around Cognac (Juliet Rix)
Need to know
When to go
Bordeaux’s Fête le Vin (bordeaux-fete-le-vin.com) takes place on 19–22 June 2025. Look out too for the Cognac Blues Passions jazz festival in July.
Getting there & around
Take the Eurostar from London St Pancras to Paris (1.5 hours; from £39 one way; eurostar.com), then a TGV from Montparnasse station to Bordeaux (2 hours; from £20; sncf-voyageurs.com). From there, trains to Cognac run via Angoulême (2 hours).
Where to stay
In Cognac, La Nauve (almae-collection.com; from £292pn B&B) is a former cognac house with lovely grounds, while Chambre d’Hotes Pladuc (from £80pn B&B) is a former distillery run by a Réunion couple, who also offer cooking classes. In Bordeaux, Marty (from £123pn B&B) is well placed in the city.
Wine & Cognac
In Bordeaux, you can download the city’s Wine Walk for free. Bar à Vin has a large list of wines by the glass at reasonable prices, while the Bordeaux Wine School runs workshops in the same building. The Wine and Trade Museum has cheap tastings, and the Cité du Vin museum sells 800 different wines.
In Médoc, take tours of Chateau Marquis d’Alesme Becker from £54 and Château Ferriere, from £21
In Cognac, Rémy Martin, from £17 and Henness, from £24, both run tours. For the full range, Cognathèque has more than 500 different cognacs for sale.
Further reading & information
One of many historical windmills scattering the Cognac region (Juliet Rix)