A day of mountain driving for the sake of wine. Worth it, but at times the narrow, bermless roads on hillsides with no guardrails and maniacal local drivers keeping the pressure on got us ready for drinking, not driving. In fact, the drive was beautiful and the weather was holding out for its own compliments. It was our first two-car excursion, which added to the fun. And confusion.
While Europe has some serious highways, it's truly a dense maze of small roads that snake through hills and valleys and small towns until all sense of direction is lost. It's not just dendritic, but deeply historic and sometimes religious in a path's significance. At sometimes it seems clear that the only paths are local. Immediately local. But our goal when we left Uzes was to head as directly toward Gigondas as possible, avoiding Avignon to our west and Orange to our north. We stopped somewhere for lunch, but I can't recall the town. We visited a Roman ruin along the way. Wait. We were in a Roman ruin for much of the way. All of the way. Fascinating.
The town lives and breathes wine, producing some of the the region's best. Even the cheap stuff is yummy—and, back home, it's certainly not the cheap stuff. Tourists are the other lifeblood because of the wine, but the place would be worth the drive and the final hike if all they had was a Pepsi machine. This being France, that wasn't a worry.
We joined the rest of the tourists in the parking lot at the bottom of the steep hill. There were a few roadside attractions there that the semi-ambulatory crowded, but the real game was at the top, and that required an honest climb. It was worth it, too. The views along the zigzagging path were stunning. A meandering ascent was perfect. At the top, there was a museum of wine from the Gigondas appellation and beaucoup opportunities to buy their vintages. They'd happily ship it all home for you, so why not more?
We drove home to the tune of a one more stunning sunset and the prospect of opening some of our bottles.
