Chilled and Bubbly

Two weekends ago small group from CUPA decided to organize their own day trip to Reims, the main city in the region of Champagne. Less than two hours away by train from Paris, it seemed like a good deal to me! Although I narrowly escaped missing the 8h57 train, my sprint through the Gare de l'Est turned out to be well worth the effort!

Fun Fact: the name of the city of Reims comes from Remus, the somewhat less celebrated half of the brother duo Romulus and Remus.

Despite the fact that I had scarfed down a demi-baguette de tradition bio and an apple in the métro, I was just as excited as everyone else by breakfast at Pain & Cie. in Reims. Alright, so wasn't the most French atmosphere - more American minimalist rustic chic, but who can resist that? Drop pendant lighting over big wooden farm tables stocked with sea salt grinders, olive oil in spritz bottles, and tubes of balsamic vinegar glaze. One of our group made the smart move to order one of their breakfast formules, which entitled her to a cup of coffee, a basket of bread slices, and a tray of assorted pâtes à tartiner (breakfast spread; Nutella belongs to this group) in hefty jars. She wasn't supposed to share, but that certainly didn't stop us! We lingered for as long as we could, hoping it would warm up outside.

Next we walked briskly through the still-freezing morning air to the Notre-Dame de Reims cathedral.

At the risk of sounding like a total snob, I've seen a lot of Gothic cathedrals in my time: here in Paris, across Basse Normandie, Chartres, Strasbourg, various American university neo-Gothic constructions, etc. So it takes something really special to make one stand apart from the rest.

But Notre-Dame de Reims won me over. Why? For starters, as you can see from the picture above, it's in the process of being restored. I love seeing cathedrals in the middle of restoration, when certain parts are sparkling beige and others remain a dark smoky brown. I remember the first time I saw such a cathedral, in Caen during my 2009 internship, and realized that the dark stone I was so used to was not in fact the color the building was meant to be. It always reminds me of the end of Disney's "Beauty and the Beast," when the castle and its residents are all transformed (see 6:50).

Another reason I loved Reims' cathedral: whimsical gargoyles. A rhinoceros is a totally unexpected touch in Northern Europe:

But what really sets Notre-Dame de Reims apart is its eclectic collection of vitraux (stained glass windows). Stained glass windows can be spectacularly ornate, and flaunt a rainbow of colors, but what really caught my eye at Reims were the minimalist, modern stained glass windows like the one below:

Despite the purely Gothic construction of the building, windows like these didn't feel out of place to me.

But Reims' cathedral's real claim to fame is the stained glass windows designed by Marc Chagall, dreamy and watercolor-like.

The addition of these windows in 1974 (bearing in mind that Chagall was Jewish), along with the even more modern ones designed by a female German artist that flank Chagall's work on either side, is a powerful statement for reconciliation in Europe:

Enough of that! you're probably thinking. Get to the booze already!

Alright, alright.

Next two other girls and I took the bus up to the Taittinger caves.

Because of timing, we had to sign up for an English tour (otherwise we would have opted for French!). We paid our student-discount rate (10€ for tour and tasting?! Yes, please!), and waited for a bit in the chic foyer, where sleek bottles were displayed like works of art or fine jewelry.

The tour ran like a well-oiled machine: first, we all watched a documentary in a little theater with dangerously comfortable seats; then, we were led down a spiral staircase by our anglophone French guide to the famed caves of Taittinger.

These caves were carves out by medieval monks (an even older section of the tunnels was carved out by the Romans, who were mining for chalk), and have the unique property of maintaining a perfect temperature of 10˚C - ideal for the production of fine champagne. Taittinger keeps about 8 million bottles down there, while an additional 19 million are stored at another site.

Yep, there are 99,710 bottles in that particular stack!

Finally, the best part: tasting!

I'm no fine beverage conoisseur, but I found it light and lovely!

Next we met the rest of our group for our reserved tour at the Vranken Pommery caves.

We could not have picked two more different champagne houses. While Taittinger was sleek and chic, Pommery was big and over-the-top, starting with the neo-Tudor architecture that made you feel like you had wandered into EuroDisney. There was a giant wooden barrel of champagne in the oversize waiting/tasting area:

And some interesting modern art...

The Pommery caves were also carved out by Romans and monks, and also maintain a perfect 10˚C. But unlike at Taittinger, our tour guide's English was laughably bad (yes, unfortunately we had to take yet another English language tour because of timing) and the caves were filled with some truly tacky excuses for modern art. I appreciate what they were going for, but the end result felt awkward and forced. If you ever visit Reims, I'd recommend Taittinger over Pommery in a heartbeat - Pommery didn't have a student discount, either!