Onward to Montpellier

I got in relatively early last night, but there were still thousands of people out on the streets. It is different than in the US, seems that everyone is out late, young, old, local, tourists, adults, kids, elders. It is very fun and very comfortable to wander the streets with so many people about – in a US city you would feel the emptiness instead, everyone in their cars or in their homes in the suburbs.

It was a bit humid all day, so I left the balcony door open to let some air into the room. Some noise drifted up from the street; there is an Irish bar right across the street from my hotel, four floors down, but the noise and laughter and music carries up. Around 6am, I awoke to what I thought must be someone taking a shower in the next room, but the sound intensified until I realized that it was a downpour of rain outside. I could hear people laughing and splashing home through it all, even at 6am!

I packed up, paid my bill, and headed to the train station to catch a train to Montpellier. Farily easy, but I couldn’t get a ticket direct to Montpellier, so I had to take a train to the French border, and then transfer in Cerbere. The Catalan countryside was filled with hills and villages, lots of orchards. There were many castles and fortifications on the hills, large and small. The hills looked really rocky, with a similar feel to California – yellowish calcareous shales and scrubby brush.

Near the French border things started to change a bit. Many of the hills were terraced, with some working olive groves and grape vines; others were abandoned. Here and there a break in the hills would offer a view of the sea. Many small villages with hotels near the ocean; not really beaches, but rather rocky cove harbors with steep rock slopes and streets down to the waterfronts.

In Cerbere, the train stopped, and I got off with everyone else to get an ongoing ticket. We all had to wait about an hour to board. I grabbed a baguette with Jamon de pais and cheese and stepped outside. The hillside behind the train station was covered in vines, bright green on the steep, terraced hills – head-trained and planted in bare rocks within sight of the sea. Once the train started, more of these incredible hillside vineyards appeared – sure enough the next town was Banyuls sur Mar, from which the AOC Banyuls takes its name. Steep hillside terraces all around – beautiful, but I could feel the strain in my body in just thinking about cultivating vines on these hills! Imagine tramping up and down, collecting the harvest – so much work.

The wine of Banyuls is somewhat like port or Maderia. Vines (predominantly Grenache) are grown on these steep terraces by the sea, and once harvested they are allowed to ferment partially before brandy is added to the fermentor to bring the alcohol level up to around 16% and stop the fermentation. The wine is then aged in barrels or large glass jugs in the sun to Maderize. The wine can be aged for 1-4 years prior to bottling. It makes for a sweet, raisiny, nutty, complex dessert wine.

As we approached Montpellier, the landscape became much more marsh-like. The land flattened out from the broken slopes that had been all around, and there were even sea-salt making ponds visible alongside the train. The rain continued constantly, it is getting to be a drag. I made it to the hotel - it is adequate, the desk clerks are nice, it is relatively clean, and it has a small kitchen area, so that I can cook for myself if I like. I don't know if I will do that, it is depressing enough to hang out in a hotel room by yourself - luckily once the conference starts tomorrow, I should have some friends from UC Davis and industry to hang out with.

Time to brave the weather and find a cozy brasserie - Choucroute Garnie sounds like a perfect rainy evening meal. Or I guess that probably Bouillabaisse or Cassoulet is the done thing in this part of France... Anything warm and hearty will work!

I know the photos are lousy. A dreary, rainy day, taken through a dirty window on a speeding train from a shaky, substandard Iphone camera. Perhaps on the way back to Barca I can take an hour or so to tramp around Banyuls a bit.