Morning in Margaux
We rose early the next morning. John set off for his daily six-mile walk just as dawn was peeking over the vineyards. I spent a few more minutes luxuriating in the comfort of the bed before rolling out to greet the day, camera in hand. The warmth of the rising sun promised more of the perfect weather we had already been blessed with on this trip.
After breakfast, we loaded up the car for the return to Bordeaux. Not nearly enough time in this corner of France, but there’s always next spring.
The drive back was easy, as most of the driving had been. It’s kind of hard to believe that we were nervous about it in the beginning. Aside from a few missed turns – once when the highway turned without us! – it was smooth sailing. Fortunately, there aren’t that many roads, so getting un-lost is almost as simple. (As a side note, the word rocade means ‘highway loop’. Knowing this before we drove through Bordeaux to get to Margaux would have been helpful.)
We dropped of the rental car at the airport and took a cab back to the hotel, arriving just about lunch time. This time we made a dinner reservation for that evening at the hotel’s restaurant – didn’t want to be shut-out of that again!
The day turned out hot, 85 degrees or so would be my guess. We strolled along the river in search of a cool breeze. In front of the Place de la Bourse is a huge reflecting pool called the Miroir d’Eau (Water Mirror). I suppose “pool” is the wrong description; the water is only about a half-inch deep. Small emitters in the pavement sometimes burble up, sometimes throw clouds of mist, to keep the water from drying.
It’s also a place where the locals go for respite from the heat. If the crowd we saw that evening was any indication, we were not the only ones suffering.
A tiny hedonist runs past
This little guy embodies the spirit of the place like nothing else I’ve seen. Not more than four, he was running full-tilt, stark naked across the plaza. I wish I could send his mother a copy of this photo – days like this are too rare.