Stone steps carved into the rock leading to the vine terraces
It’s winter here and we are adjusting to a different rhythm. Wood fires burning and shutters closing as the sun goes down. Long walks in the woods of the Viaur Valley reveal a different picture of the place where we live. With no leaves on the trees it is easier to see the traces of the old vineyards that once covered every inch of the now thickly wooded slopes. The steep narrow paths are peopled with reminders of another way of life, stones worn away by the feet of farmers and animals returning from the vineyards, baskets laden with grapes. In the 18th century, the wines of Bor & Bar (just 7 kilometres downstream from us) were drunk in Paris. Then the phyloxera epidemic arrived in the late 19th century, destroying not only the vines, but the whole way of life of this area. The men left to work in the coal mines of Carmaux and the women struggled to keep small-holdings going to subsidise the family income. Now, scrub oak and chestnut cover the old vineyards and only the winter bareness reveals the hidden past.
