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The need for speed: a flying start buys time in race to Beaujolais
Eschewing the usual method of journeying by road, oenophile Poppy McKenzie Smith joins the jet set to be among the first in line to sample one of France’s most famous exports
All the best adventures begin at 5am in the back of a Mercedes Vclass people carrier, and this morning is no exception. It’s freezing, I didn’t have breakfast and a gust of drizzly air follows me in as I climb aboard, but I’m not bothered. Today is an important day, and our brief trundle through London’s silent streets is just the beginning – the first few miles in a journey of more than a thousand.
It’s the third Thursday of November, or beaujolais nouveau day, when producers in Beaujolais release their fresh wine after only a few weeks of fermentation, to the delight of oenophiles around the world. In its heyday, this global celebration would see people race back from Beaujolais by road as soon as the wine was released at a minute past midnight, hoping to be the first back in London. I’m going to do one better than that.
Biggin Hill’s terminal is more like a hotel lobby than a traditional airport. It’s designed to funnel you into the air as soon as possible, with few opportunities to waste time – no duty free, nor overpriced gifts. Our captain shows us to the aircraft, a Cessna Citation CJ2, the bijou dimensions of which remind me a little of the Mercedes from which I clambered five minutes ago. But the harmoniously designed interior is superior to anything you’d find on four wheels; I disappear into the plane’s buttery leather embrace and watch the rain intensify as we prepare to take off.
Private flying is a delight – no belligerent stag dos, no gropey security agents, no children being allowed to watch Peppa Pig on their iPads without headphones. But above all that, flying private means flying quickly; it’s taken about an hour to get from my front door to 30,000ft.
Sitting next to me is Pascal Bachmann, a rally driver and former commercial pilot who is now a broker for Jetcraft, a global private jet dealer specialising in larger planes. He tells me that despite being on the market for millions, our little CJ2 is far from the most luxurious he has to offer; many bigger aircraft are essentially second homes for their owners, who spend as much time in transit as I do in bed.
“Some of my busiest clients are in the air for more than 1,000 hours a year,” he says. “A month and a half. People see private aviation as a luxury, but soon they see it as a necessity.”
But outside the business world, private aviation is catching on with families and professionals fed up with the limitations (and indignity) of being “self-loading freight”.
Indeed, our mission is perhaps frivolous compared with those of the other bizjets in French airspace this morning. As we puncture the clouds into Beaujolais, we glimpse its expanse of dense, stubbly vineyards thousands of feet below us in the soft autumn haze. I used to live in Lyon, and spotting its landmarks on approach is a surreal, high-speed trip down memory lane.
It’s five minutes between the door of our aircraft and the seat of our taxi, which winds north into the Beaujolais region. This swathe of France, west of the Saône between here and Macon, is an AOC known for its gamay wines, which are some of my favourites.
Château de Pizay is a beautiful patchwork of Norman towers, Renaissance arched windows and a neoclassical chapel, all at the end of a tree-lined driveway. At its feet is an immaculate garden designed by André Le Nôtre, architect of the gardens of Versailles, and beyond that a sea of vines.
We are greeted by another Pascal, this one Pascal Dufaitre, a friendly vigneron with an infectious enthusiasm for his beaujolais. He proudly shows us around, pointing out the frescoes in the dining room detailing the castle’s history, and a carving of St Vincent on the chapel door.
“I’ve been in the wine trade since I was a tiny baby,” says Dufaitre. “More than 60 years. My father was a wine grower at Brouilly, and I studied oenology at Dijon. I’ve looked after Pizay since 1983.
“Pizay produces beaujolais, nouveau, beaujolais de l’année, beaujolais rosé, morgon – very popular in the UK – as well as brouilly and régnié. We grow over 80 hectares and produce 450,000 bottles, around 30,000 of which are sold in the UK.”
In the caves, we sample the chateau’s wines alongside some local goat’s cheese and Rosette de Lyon saucisson. It’s a cool, quiet antidote to the jetfuelled morning.
Britain has long been a key market for beaujolais nouveau, though in re- cent years affection for it has waned. Will the heyday of this simple, drinkable wine return, or will its many detractors turn people away?
“Critics of beaujolais are old-fashioned, and today the image of the wine is becoming a bit more trendy,” says Dufaitre. “Beaujolais is a fruity, delicious wine which is evocative without being overpowering, and is very popular in the younger generations. The English love to drink without paying heed to old-fashioned etiquette as certain French people do – the French love to pose as connoisseurs whereas the English will drink things that they like the taste of. Our UK sales are increasing, and we are seeing re-emerging demand for nouveau after a hiatus of about 15 years.”
We bid farewell to Dufaitre and clamber into the car, arriving back at Lyon-Bron with several cases of beaujolais nouveau. On a recent flight back from Venice, I was nearly forced to abandon a bag of dry pasta at security because the guard was adamant that it contravened the 100ml liquid limit; today, our pilots help load several boxes of booze into the plane, point us in the direction of a bottle of Ruinart in an ice box, and then take off, heading for London at about 400mph.
Lunch is taken with Mont Blanc visible over our starboard wing. It’s an indulgence, yes, but it’s little wonder that groups of friends are now chartering aircraft for ski trips and hen dos, as every other form of transport gets more expensive and more crowded.
We land at Biggin Hill and decant our wine into their helicopter, which