Originally posted November 21, 2003
Almost all institutions for French language study organize student excursions which explore the most important and interesting aspects of France and its culture. Université de Grenoble’s C.U.E.F. sector is no different. I have gone on a number of the outings and have enjoyed every one. The two guys who run it are consummately knowledgeable and provide volumes of good information on every place we go.
The third Wednesday of every November the little town of Beaujeu, north of Lyon and the capital of the region of Beaujolais, holds a huge celebration to welcome in the year’s harvest. The first day of the season is actually Thursday, but it resembles New Year’s festivities in the US in that you do most of your partying the night before, and they had killer fireworks.
The festivities begin around midday with a mountain bike race that goes from the top of a nearby peak all the way into the town. The cyclists finish and by that time the town is filling up with people. fireworks start an hour after sundown (around 6:30pm) and continue sporadically until a little after midnight. Around 10 pm everyone lights torches and marches through the streets of the town up to the caves where the wine is produced. There everyone gathers around 4 gigantic barrels filled with the wine of the new season.
We left from Grenoble around 9pm. We got off the bus and were immediately swept into the throng of people with torches all headed towards the wine caves. The narrow streets lined with old, semi-dilapidated buildings seemed full of character and life with thousands of light bearing, slightly intoxicated natives and foreigners walking through them. We arrived at the center of town just before midnight. The torches were all piled together into a gigantic bonfire and just beyond it everyone crowded around the barrels.
Almost all institutions for French language study organize student excursions which explore the most important and interesting aspects of France and its culture. Université de Grenoble’s C.U.E.F. sector is no different. I have gone on a number of the outings and have enjoyed every one. The two guys who run it are consummately knowledgeable and provide volumes of good information on every place we go.
The third Wednesday of every November the little town of Beaujeu, north of Lyon and the capital of the region of Beaujolais, holds a huge celebration to welcome in the year’s harvest. The first day of the season is actually Thursday, but it resembles New Year’s festivities in the US in that you do most of your partying the night before, and they had killer fireworks.
The festivities begin around midday with a mountain bike race that goes from the top of a nearby peak all the way into the town. The cyclists finish and by that time the town is filling up with people. fireworks start an hour after sundown (around 6:30pm) and continue sporadically until a little after midnight. Around 10 pm everyone lights torches and marches through the streets of the town up to the caves where the wine is produced. There everyone gathers around 4 gigantic barrels filled with the wine of the new season.
We left from Grenoble around 9pm. We got off the bus and were immediately swept into the throng of people with torches all headed towards the wine caves. The narrow streets lined with old, semi-dilapidated buildings seemed full of character and life with thousands of light bearing, slightly intoxicated natives and foreigners walking through them. We arrived at the center of town just before midnight. The torches were all piled together into a gigantic bonfire and just beyond it everyone crowded around the barrels.
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| Marching through the streets to get our wine |
The mayor of the town came out along with the proprietors of the main vineyard and together we all counted down to midnight. At precisely the moment the clock on the old cathedral struck midnight, little stands that lined all the streets began opening bottles of the new wine and giving them out to everyone. It’s all free and you can have as much as you want. You take your glass (or bottle as the case may be) and walk through the streets enjoying the lights, the boozy revelry (which never got too rowdy), and the smells of fresh crêpes and roasted chestnuts.
I was with a bunch of people from school and we all walked around together. When you get too tired, too cold, or the booths run out of wine, you make your way back to this gigantic heated tent where the wine continues to flow (you have to pay this time), and there is music and dancing and tables to sit at and chat… or pass out. We ended up at the tent around 2:00am and danced until the celebration ended at 4:00.
I think the best part of the night for me was seeing the French people dance. They may be very savvy when it comes to food, wine and general charm, but they cannot dance to save their lives. There was a stout middle aged blonde woman who was doing high kicks, crazy hair whips, and spinning around and around, punctuated with select disco moves (I remember a Saturday Night Fever tribute sequence at one point) during “I Will Survive” and I had to sit down I was laughing so hard. As in most cases, the greater the amount of alcohol consumed, the fewer the inhibitions. This made for some memorable encounters. A wide array of ages and nationalities came up to the group I was dancing with and began either talking or dancing with us like we had known them all our lives. They were all nice enough, just a little “dodgy” as the Irish guide from the Paris trip would say.
As a general note, mostly directed at my parents who are probably the only people that read this, I would like to put to rest any concern for my responsible handling of alcohol. I had two glasses of the wine, enough to make the cold less apparent and raise my glass a few times with others. You say in French “je suis un peu gaï” (pronounced “gay”. It is an expression used when you have had just a little to drink and you feel good.) I haven't changed all that much since you dropped me off at the airport, guys.
The next day, the official day of the new Beaujolais, there were little “dégustations” set up all over town and posters everywhere announcing the arrival of the new wine. On my way into town that afternoon, I passed numerous bars advertising celebrations that evening with free tasting. But I had done what celebrating I was going to do the night before. I was going into town for a language exchange with some French students that AIFS had set up. It was a great opportunity to compare cultures and practice speaking. We talked about the Beaujolais and they told us that the wine is only popular for the opportunity it creates to have a party. It’s still much too young to be any good (though when it is more mature, it can have a rich, robust flavor), but it’s cheap and accompanied by a chance to drink and party all night, so it’s popular. It’s a lot like Halloween in that sense. I mentioned before that it is mostly a commercial holiday, celebrated by bars and with no cultural roots. The Beaujolais Nouveau is different in that it has true French roots- those of the grape vine.
Now as I sit in my cheerful yellow room looking out on the snow-capped peaks on a gorgeous, unseasonably warm, late November day, I am thinking about the spirit of camaraderie walking through the streets with my torch in hand, singing traditional French chantys, drinking the cheap and cheerful wine, listening and dancing to a bad French cover band, and the glaringly apparent lack of rhythm in the natives. It’s been a long time since I was out until 6:30 in the morning. Cavalier Cruise (high school all night graduation party) maybe? But it was definitely worth missing out on some sleep. Wine is one of the strongest cultural threads that runs through the colorful tapestry of this country. I am grateful to have been able to celebrate this area of pride and joy for my adopted countrymen in a fashion steeped in tradition and community.
*Now that YouTube exists, I can link to this video of the event from 2012 to help illustrate the event for my readers:
I was with a bunch of people from school and we all walked around together. When you get too tired, too cold, or the booths run out of wine, you make your way back to this gigantic heated tent where the wine continues to flow (you have to pay this time), and there is music and dancing and tables to sit at and chat… or pass out. We ended up at the tent around 2:00am and danced until the celebration ended at 4:00.
I think the best part of the night for me was seeing the French people dance. They may be very savvy when it comes to food, wine and general charm, but they cannot dance to save their lives. There was a stout middle aged blonde woman who was doing high kicks, crazy hair whips, and spinning around and around, punctuated with select disco moves (I remember a Saturday Night Fever tribute sequence at one point) during “I Will Survive” and I had to sit down I was laughing so hard. As in most cases, the greater the amount of alcohol consumed, the fewer the inhibitions. This made for some memorable encounters. A wide array of ages and nationalities came up to the group I was dancing with and began either talking or dancing with us like we had known them all our lives. They were all nice enough, just a little “dodgy” as the Irish guide from the Paris trip would say.
As a general note, mostly directed at my parents who are probably the only people that read this, I would like to put to rest any concern for my responsible handling of alcohol. I had two glasses of the wine, enough to make the cold less apparent and raise my glass a few times with others. You say in French “je suis un peu gaï” (pronounced “gay”. It is an expression used when you have had just a little to drink and you feel good.) I haven't changed all that much since you dropped me off at the airport, guys.
The next day, the official day of the new Beaujolais, there were little “dégustations” set up all over town and posters everywhere announcing the arrival of the new wine. On my way into town that afternoon, I passed numerous bars advertising celebrations that evening with free tasting. But I had done what celebrating I was going to do the night before. I was going into town for a language exchange with some French students that AIFS had set up. It was a great opportunity to compare cultures and practice speaking. We talked about the Beaujolais and they told us that the wine is only popular for the opportunity it creates to have a party. It’s still much too young to be any good (though when it is more mature, it can have a rich, robust flavor), but it’s cheap and accompanied by a chance to drink and party all night, so it’s popular. It’s a lot like Halloween in that sense. I mentioned before that it is mostly a commercial holiday, celebrated by bars and with no cultural roots. The Beaujolais Nouveau is different in that it has true French roots- those of the grape vine.
Now as I sit in my cheerful yellow room looking out on the snow-capped peaks on a gorgeous, unseasonably warm, late November day, I am thinking about the spirit of camaraderie walking through the streets with my torch in hand, singing traditional French chantys, drinking the cheap and cheerful wine, listening and dancing to a bad French cover band, and the glaringly apparent lack of rhythm in the natives. It’s been a long time since I was out until 6:30 in the morning. Cavalier Cruise (high school all night graduation party) maybe? But it was definitely worth missing out on some sleep. Wine is one of the strongest cultural threads that runs through the colorful tapestry of this country. I am grateful to have been able to celebrate this area of pride and joy for my adopted countrymen in a fashion steeped in tradition and community.
*Now that YouTube exists, I can link to this video of the event from 2012 to help illustrate the event for my readers:
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