
My memories of Chinon are that it was a place that felt distinctly
méridional. Southern, as in "the South of France." Maybe it's just that I was there in June — at least once. But I was also there in October and other not so summery months. Maybe I was just lucky to be there when the weather was fine. But there was something about the landscapes and the vegetation that looked like southern France as well.
As for that feeling of
méridionalitude (I made that word up), the reality is quite the oposite. In his book about wines and the people who make them all around France (
The New France, it's called), the British author Andrew Jefford points out that Chinon and nearby Bourgueil are the most northerly vineyards in France, along with those of Burgundy to the east, where fine red wines are produced successfully.

Chinon wines owe their excellence to the grape called Cabernet Franc, even though it is a challenge to bring Cabernet grapes to full ripeness so far north. The Chinon vintners accomplish it by doing successive harvest passes through their vines, to pick, at each moment, only the ripest grapes. It's time-consuming, but the result is deeper, more structured red wines. The same is true of Chinon's white wines, made from Chenin Blanc grapes (as in Vouvray). Using the same harvesting stragegy they can now produce riper, more flavor-saturated dry white wines.

CHM mentioned the other day that the
logis royaux (the royal residences) at Chinon have been restored to their former glory since I took these pictures. They are the roofless buildings on the right in my photo on the right. Now they again have roofs on them. I need to go back to Chinon to see the interiors. Maybe this spring...

The old edition of the Cadogan
Loire guidebook that I have calls the Tour de l'Horloge at Chinon (photo on the left) "anorexically thin." Another description of it that I've read calls it "pencil thin." Maybe we should call it tall and slender.