Walking through the garrigue, only a few meters away from the Vaucluse, with views of the Baronnies Provencales National Park, with its arid landscape, surrounded by vines producing Cotes du Rhone wine, you could be forgiven for thinking you were in Provence.
Instead, I was in the Drome Provencale, in Saint Pantaleon-Les Vignes, to be exact. A wine-themed trail developed in association with the local cooperative, the Vignerons de Valleon, runs through and around the village. While the trail begins in the village, itself on the border with the Vaucluse, it soon enters vineyards. Not surprising as the village has the word “vines” in its name.
Saint Pantaleon is one of the 16 or so villages dedicated to producing some of the best Cotes du Rhone red wines there are. The village wines may carry the appellation name Cotes du Rhone Village and its own name on its bottles, a signal honor indeed. No doubt they had plenty of practice. In 900s, it was officially cited as having vineyards, although at that point, viticulture was probably close to a thousand years old in the area. Proud of their history, there is a wine education trail along part of the trail apparently identified by number bottles (but I lacked the brochure/key to what it all meant).
At a cluster of farmsteads, passing several palm trees slightly swaying in a warm February breeze, the trail began to lead to different terrain. A different, wilder, landscape begins to appear. After passing through the hamlet on the other side of the main road, the trail leads to a ravine. The exposed bank showed a mix of sand, clay and pebbles, mostly limestone, it seemed. So, this is what the vines grew in! Fortunately, it had not rained for a while. The small stream ran swiftly along its base, and judging from the gravel and rocks on the trail, it ferociously overran its banks on occasion. Picking my way over the rubble, I followed the trail uphill.
After a short and gentle incline, I soon reached the high ground. Unlike the vineyards below, these vineyards were sheltered and more discrete. Wandering through a mix of vineyard, fields and woods, it was a quietly peaceful interlude. All the better to enjoy the beautiful views. The distant Rhone River Valley and the Ardeche mountains lay to the west, at a minimum some 30 kilometers (20 miles) way, but appearing closer in the bright sun and clear air. To the north and east, the Baronnies National Park and the Prealpes, foothills to the Alps further east, seemed close enough to reach out and touch.
The terrain is lined with ravines, some with water. While the trail managed to avoid the roughest parts, it did have some ascents and descents along the way. Luckily the trail crossed one of the drops along a viaduct. It had been constructed for the train from the Rhone to Nyons, further east. The cooperative created a red wine cuvee and named it in honor of the train, and the bottle label bears a drawing of the train passing along the viaduct.
As I headed downhill, the smell of garrigue filled the air: Pine, rosemary, and thyme. Lavender plants, not in bloom in winter, were nonetheless present here and there. The generally dry and mostly sunny climate in this part of France enables these plants, along with grape vines, to grow well here. In fact, in many places, they will grow wild. Running fingers through a wild rosemary bush on the trail, is one way to whet an appetite for dinner – which naturally would include local wine. What a nice end to a day on the trail!
