Field Notes from France: The Art of (Mis)Timing
On time as a resource and the lessons Bordeaux taught me about it.
We’d only been in France three days before heading to Bordeaux, but it already felt like a week — the kind of time that stretches when you’re paying attention.
So when I looked at the itinerary, I thought I’d planned this part perfectly. Five nights in Bordeaux should be plenty, right? But travel has a way of reminding you that time isn’t as predictable as it looks on paper. You think you’ve left enough, and then you realize how easily half-days disappear into trains, check-ins, and small detours you never planned for.
After this trip, I’ve decided to measure by days spent instead of nights booked. Every move from one city to the next quietly steals a few hours — and those lost hours add up fast.
Day 1: Paris to Bordeaux
Half a day gone in transit.
Just enough time left for a drink and dinner.
Day 2: Saint-Émilion and Wine Trails
Our only scheduled wine tour — Bordeaux Wine Trails — was a highlight. Clément, our guide, took wonderful care of us. We visited two wineries, tasted, learned, and laughed.
At Château Bonalgue in Pomerol, we walked through their story and the region’s history before tasting three beautiful reds — all blends, all worth savouring.
Then on to Saint-Émilion for a walking tour full of legends and limestone lanes. At one point a man stripped down to his boxers and jumped into what might have been a fountain — or a bath? The moment still makes me laugh.
We wandered just long enough to pick up our ritual fridge magnet but not long enough to linger in a café or browse the inviting wine shops. I wished for more time — the kind you spend being somewhere, not just passing through.
Our final stop was Château Clos des Abbesses. The owner led us through a tasting that focused on how to taste wine properly — something I thought I already knew.
1️⃣ Look. Hold a white napkin behind the glass and really see the colour.
2️⃣ Smell. First without swirling, then after. Oxygen opens everything.
3️⃣ Taste. Stay with the flavours. Berries, pepper, tobacco — the chemistry of art in a glass.
I’ve noticed people often underestimate time in art too. They see the finished product — the painting, the design, the label — and assume it came together quickly. The truth is, time sits quietly inside everything meaningful. Wine. Art. Life.
Day 3: Lessons in Lost Time
The plan was simple: pick up our rental car, drive to the coast, see the Dune du Pilat, and be back by late afternoon.
We made it to the dunes — vast, sculptural, shifting mountains of sand. The ocean on one side, forest on the other. It started to pour as we left, so we moved onto La Cabane du Paliquey for oysters fresh from the sea. Perfect.
Then came the unexpected: the electric-car learning curve. In France, most chargers require a deposit of 60–80 euros, but card tap limits stop at 50. The QR codes would scan, but the steps weren’t always clear. Add language barriers, and we lost nearly two hours at a station trying to sort it out.
That’s how time disappears — not in big moments, but in small confusions you couldn’t foresee. If you ever rent a car in France, go hybrid.
By the time we were back in Bordeaux, we had just enough energy for a drink, pack, and a pub dinner at The Frog & Rosbif. Familiar. Easy. Gone in a blink.
I wouldn’t trade any of it — the tours, the drives, even the detours — but I realized later that most of my time had been spent outside the city itself.
The Takeaway
Those first three days felt long — full, detailed, memorable — yet I realized later that I hadn’t actually spent much of them in Bordeaux itself. I was always on my way somewhere, always half gone.
It’s a strange contradiction: days that stretch but still slip away. It’s hard to estimate time — especially when you don’t know what obstacles will pop up.
Bordeaux reminded me that time isn’t just a schedule — it’s a resource, one you can waste even while keeping busy. You can’t store it; you can only decide where to be when you spend it.
Until next time, Bordeaux. Next time, I’ll count the days — not the nights.
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There’s more to this story — the rest of the five days in Bordeaux. Part two coming soon.
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