En route for the capital

Posted on | November 29, 2005

Strange how human beings change. Although I lived 20 years in Paris with happiness, to return there doesn’t bring me any real pleasure. Oh, I know that once my feet touch the ground of the airport, I am going to find my old habits, my step will pick up, and finally, after a few hours, I will be re-acclimatised again. But the pollution, in all its forms, air, noise, publicity… weighs down on me more and more, whereas certain restraints, which I won’t even mention, weigh me down today more than they ought: traffic jams, the aggressivity of drivers, the superciliousness of the inhabitants, the scrutinizing looks - even distrusting  - upon those who, like me, don’t respect the latest sartorial code, resigned or depressed looks and attitudes… The first hours, you will laugh, I must stop myself from saying ‘bonjour’ to people I meet, at the entrance to the bus, in the lifts or even in the street. In our village, everyone knows everyone (without much appreciating it, let’s not dream) and says hi. The morning, I go out to get my bread. I meet the inhabitants. I exchange ‘bonjours’, thoughts on the weather, news of the village, and the eternal banalities. « Nothings and a waste of time », some will say. « Essential », I would like to retort…

Week-end full of perspective then. Tasting at Lavinia Saturday afternoon. If some of you reading these lines pass by La Madelaine, they would be well received. Before, programme of Jean-Pierre Coffe, Saturday afternoon, on France Inter. I haven’t seen Jean-Pierre for at least five years, he is going to get at me for my silence, my absence. He will be right, But I sent him a bottle of Walden, and he adored the wine. Now we can talk of this slightly mad, and a little idealistic project. I haven’t yet spoken to you about it. I think it is about time. Here, you can learn a little more about my new adventure. I am going to try and hand around a little of my passion, my hope and my optimism, measured but real. One is going to, without doubt, reproach me for it. In this general and deleterious climate which occupies French viticulture, in this horrible environment where people talk of crisis, of slump, of pulling up, of the end of French wine, it’s no good succeeding and even less delivering messages of hope.

Hervè Bizeul

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