Review of holidaying in Bordeaux.
Bordeaux has a reputation of clearing its throat and declaring that it is serious, sophisticated, and probably criticising your taste in footwear, it swirls into the room like a confident glass of red. I showed up ready to feel underdressed, undereducated, maybe underqualified to experience it fully. This turned out to be somewhat true.Given that wine has been entwined with Bordeaux like plumbing or a modest existential pride, it is rather reasonable that much of Bordeaux's tourism revolves around it. Five minutes cannot pass without you spotting a store, a pub, or a person who looks like they might thoroughly explain tannins to you. Bordeaux will softly recommend you to begin, simply to fit in, even if you do not drink wine. Though not expertly, I do drink wine, which causes me to nod a lot and remark "interesting" while wishing no one would ask me what I taste beyond grapes and shame.
The city itself exudes a subdued but surely confident beauty. The structures are light-colored stone, beautiful and balanced, as though everyone here decided not to flaunt too much. Walking by the Garonne River feels like perusing a postcard, striving very hard not to seem arrogant about it. Bikes are all over the place, and just being around them makes you feel healthy, even if you go straight to a coffee shop and order something with butter.
Visitors to Bordeaux usually fit into one of two groups. There are the serious ones who know a lot about châteaux and have strong opinions about them. They also carry guidebooks. Then there are the rest of us, meandering joyfully between museums and bakeries, stopping sometimes to eat. The food is a major attraction, and it does not pretend otherwise. From delicious meals that make you reconsider your choices by evening to flaky pastries in the morning, Bordeaux feeds you freely and without bias.
Visiting Bordeaux feels lived in, which is among its charms. This is not a city for tourists kept under glass. People are late for lunch, so they go to work, moan about the weather, and forget about famous landmarks. Oddly consoling, you, as a visitor, may participate in this daily cycle. You start to appreciate being where you are rather than striving to see everything.
I came to see that Bordeaux had subtly won me over by the end of my visit. Not by screaming about its features but by being always pleasant, lovely, and well-fed. I left with a slightly lighter wallet, a somewhat heavier luggage, and a great admiration for a city aware of exactly what it is and under no need to justify itself. Though Bordeaux did not seem to mind, I still find wine difficult to characterise.
