Field Notes from France: Five Days in Bordeaux

The continuation — when time finally caught its breath.

We returned to Bordeaux after a three-day adventure in Rocamadour — another story for another post. By then, we’d lost track of days. How long have we been away? That’s what travel does. It blurs time, and if you’re lucky, it slows it.

Back in the city, we decided to take it easy. No more tours, no rushing. Just the kind of time that unfolds naturally.

Day 4: Back in Bordeaux

Half a day again — that pattern continued. The drive from Rocamadour took most of the afternoon, so by the time we arrived, checked in, and unpacked, the day was already half gone.

We made sure to reserve dinner this time, checking another green flag off my Google Map list: Les Doux Secrets d’Hélène.

It turned out to be one of those perfect finds. A small wine bar with tapas, friendly owners, and two resident dogs who made up for how much we missed our boy, Ollie, back home. We lingered there, sipping slowly, stopping to pet the dogs and chat with the couple who ran it before heading “home” — we make all of our stays our home. Finally on Bordeaux time.

Day 5: The Day I’d Been Waiting For

Finally, a full day in Bordeaux.

This city has so much to offer — and we barely scratched the surface. It’s more than just wine tours. There are museums, galleries, endless restaurants, and a whole pedestrian street, Rue Sainte-Catherine, that stretches forever with shops of every kind.

But I’d saved one must-see for last: Cité du Vin, the high-tech wine museum that everyone talks about.

It’s built for the senses — part exhibition, part experience. The ticket includes entry to the eighth floor, where you get a glass of wine with a panoramic view of the city.

Via Sensoria

We walked there by the river, taking our time. It was about 50 minutes, with a few stops — one for a drink, another for pizza.

At Cité du Vin, I booked a tasting called Via Sensoria. I didn’t know what to expect, but it turned out to be surprisingly meditative. Through light, sound, and projection, each season was paired with a wine — spring, summer, fall, winter. The experience slowed me down; it made me pay attention to taste and to time again.

After that, we wandered through the interactive exhibits. There was a digital grape-stomping game, scent tests, and more information about wine than anyone could possibly retain. And still, I loved it, especially that mix of history, science, and ritual that wine always seems to hold.

Les Vivres de l’Art

Not far from Cité du Vin was Les Vivres de l’Art, a gallery and sculpture garden I’d marked on my map long before the trip. Incredible space — sculptures scattered across an outdoor courtyard, with a bar tucked between them. It’s an event venue too; you can imagine people there at night, drinks in hand, surrounded by art. Next time, I want to see it lit up and full of life.

Everywhere I travel, I seek out what I call “Gardens of Joy” — places where art, imagination, and nature blend together. I’ve found them scattered across the world: Niki de Saint Phalle’s Tarot Garden and Daniel Spoerri’s Il Giardino in Italy, Gaudí’s Park Güell in Spain, and Đặng Việt Nga’s Crazy House in Vietnam. Les Vivres de l’Art in Bordeaux feels like one of them — a space filled with murals and sculptures built from scrap metal, where creativity grows from what’s been discarded. I love that idea, turning remnants into something magical. Everywhere you look, there’s something unexpected that makes you stop, smile, and notice.

Our last stops were two more green flags: Le Vaisseau Spatial — a sculpture shaped like a spaceship (how could I resist?) — and Oz Boat Bordeaux, a floating bar on the river. We sat there for a while, glass in hand, talking and unwinding, letting the trip settle in. (Both pictured in the cover image.)

This whole area in Bordeaux could easily fill a few days on its own. The Bassins à Flot district in Bacalan, once part of the city’s old naval docks, is now a mix of art spaces, converted warehouses, cafés, and riverfront walks — the kind of place that invites you to wander without a plan.

The Lesson

Funny how I thought I’d given Bordeaux more than enough time. Five days felt like it would be plenty, and it still wasn’t. But this time, I didn’t mind. I wasn’t measuring by what we checked off, but by what I felt. Time finally slowed down.

Bordeaux taught me that the best days aren’t the ones planned to the minute. They’re the ones you stretch out, sip by sip, until they fade into evening. Any trip that leaves you wanting more is one you know you’ll return to. Bordeaux was one of those places. We’ll be back.

The next morning, we boarded the train to Paris for the final two days of our trip. We hauled our bags through the crowds, found our seats, and watched the countryside roll by, a quiet stretch of time between everything behind us and what was still to come.

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This story is part of my series, Field Notes from France, capturing moments from one trip that reminded me how travel anywhere can shape the way I see, feel, and create. More to come in this series — stay tuned.