Paris, France
I’m sitting in a lush garden in Saint-Germain, Paris. Not the touristy, Eiffel-Tower-plastered-on-
I’m not alone. Bob’s here, one of our wine club members from New York. He’s not just any tourist. Bob gets it. He knows that traveling isn’t about checking boxes on a bucket list, but about settling into a place, savoring every moment, every flavor, every sip.
We’ve been pen pals for weeks, ever since he wrote about his Paris trip, hunting for a good champagne tasting. I didn’t have recommendations then, but it got me thinking. I’m on a mission now to find stellar tasting experiences to share with you folks. Planning a European adventure? Have questions? Don’t be shy. Drop me a line at explorers@bonnerprivatewines.
So here we are, the four of us — Bob, myself, and our better halves — tucked away in a Saint-Germain hotel bar. Not some swanky champagne lounge, just a cozy courtyard nook with plants climbing the walls and a tiny fountain beckoning birds. No trees, no pretense, just pure Parisian charm.
Saint-Germain is special, looking more like an indie film set than the wide, modern, and dirty streets of Paris in the 21st century. Baron Haussmann, who gave Paris its iconic boulevards, never touched this place. Sure, you’ll find souvenir shops on the main drag peddling miniature Eiffel Towers and polyester berets. But veer off the path and suddenly you’re time-traveling through cobblestone alleys, quirky bookshops, and antique stores frozen in the Jazz Age.
We’re nursing glasses of champagne, fine bubbles rising as the wine in our glasses descends. It’s hotter than a vineyard in August outside, but the stone buildings around this tiny garden are nature’s own air conditioning.
Bob’s an avid traveler, always moving, always exploring. He’s got plans here in France — Monet’s gardens, yes, but also the beaches of Normandy, where his grandfather left footprints during WWII. Heavy stuff, important stuff.
Throughout our meetup, phones stay pocketed. No Instagram, no emails, just good old-fashioned conversation. The one exception is when Bob shows me his favorite wine from our club: Paco Puga’s Contemporáneo. He’s full of enthusiasm for this great extreme altitude discovery.
It gets me thinking about our wine club. If the wine world was a Blockbuster store, most clubs would push the latest big-budget flicks. We’re more like that corner in the back with foreign films and independent gems, the ones that leave you thinking long after the credits roll.
Not a member yet? Join us and experience the difference.
Our wines are from small producers, many times not big enough to enter a market like the US on their own. 90% or more of our wines can’t be found in your regular wine stores across the country. (We give ourselves a 10% margin to stay prudent, but I think it’s higher.) They’re exclusive, just for our members.
As we part ways, we promise to raise a glass together someday, to make this world smaller. I feel grateful for members like Bob, for hidden Parisian gardens, for wines that surprise and delight.
So here’s to the independent spirit in films, in travel, in wine. Here’s to unknown streets and unfamiliar bottles. Because life’s too short for formulaic plots and predictable flavors.
Until next time, keep exploring, keep tasting, and remember — in wine, as in life, the real magic often happens off the beaten path.
Cheers,
Diego
Diego with Irene, Karen, and Bob
