Treasure or Trash?

The old Auberge Martin is a fine three storey building, which lines the route on the entrance to our village. However, it would be true to say that it has seen better days. It now looks exceedingly neglected, and sad. But in the nineteenth century, it was quite a hive of activity. If you read an earlier blog, you will remember that St Etienne once had no less than four auberges. This is because the 'Route Royale,' one of France's main arterial roads from Paris to the provinces ran through our village. People would rest overnight here, before tackling the steep road ahead up to the plateau. The village woud supply extra horses for their carriages, which the inn keepers would summons for their guests the next morning.

Over twenty years ago, one of the oldest residents of the village died, and the auberge was left empty when her son moved away. No one seemed to come or go. That is until the beginning of this week. Suddenly , the building was fenced off from the road, and rubbish began to collect outside. But amongst the bottles, broken down bicycles and old TV aerials, I began to notice more interesting things, so yesterday I went along to investigate more closely. By doing so, I learned that the auberge had an even more varied history than I had realised.

A flat bed trailer was parked close by, and a very old Citroen car had been loaded on to it for transporting away. I noticed that a bulldozer had cleared a way around the back of the building which abuts a cliff, so I went to have a look. Hidden away from sight were two abandoned vehicles, mouldering away into the ground. Of the two, the vintage Citroen van was the most sad to see. Others like these have been restored, and are much prized. However this one was beyond redemption, abandoned at a time when there were few facilities for salvage out here in the country. Indeed, I know of a couple of vintage cars mouldering away, unseen in our own forest.

But then another vehicle aroused my interest as I returned past the side of the building. This one was smaller than a car and had tracks in place of wheels. I knew from its narrow width that it was just the right size to go between rows of vines, just like the special narrow tractors that we see on the roads in autumn.

When I went indoors, I realised what a sad state the interior of this building was in. Whole sections of the roof were missing; walls were crumbling, and floors and ceilings gone. But right in the middle of the floor stood a large telescopic hoist, whilst up above me stood two workers. Alix, a local builder, has taken on the task of restoring this building. It should prove to be quite a job.

Then, on poking my head into a large basement room, everything began to add up. For here, amidst the rubble and chaos, I saw three small hatches in a concrete wall, with outlets at the bottom. This auberge once not only served wine , but made it too. Indeed , although concrete fermentation tanks have been around for a very long time, they are not outdated. Some modern winemakers prefer concrete to the more convenient stainless steel tanks, as they don't impart unwanted flavours. Moreover, the cement has better thermal properties, and allows micro-oxidation.

Now everything was really beginning to add up, as I thought of some other things we had seen outside: oak wine barrels, both giant barriques and smaller ones, and large open oak buckets with carrying handles. These latter must have been used for carrying grapes. What's more , there was an old cast iron hand pump. Now I realise, it was for piping wine, possibly from cuve(or storage tanks) to the oak barrels where the tight grain of the oak is perfect for storage. Moreover , oak adds a certain 'je ne sais quoi 'to the flavour of wine. But oak barrels are expensive. Only two can be made from each tree. Did you know that an oak barrique(225 litres) costs around 800 Euro in France today.

But snooping around, and guesswork has limitations. I could of course be wrong about everything. Fortunately I had a source who could tell me more(thanks Jenny!) She told me that the people at the old inn kept their own vines. And so it does all add up. She also explained that the old lady's son had died not long after his mother, and that his cousin had inherited the house. Ah...I thought. That explains the young man who asked me whether I needed any help( or in other words: why was I snooping?) He told me that the place was for sale, and that it was his brother who was selling it. It now seems that this building has fallen into the hands of yet another generation, and that the nature of this fine old building is changing yet again. Who knows. When it is fully restored , maybe part of it will be used for making wine once more. I, for one, would be happy to buy it.