Every day until well into September, swarms of IRL plates will be buzzing down French motorways from the ferry ports - and you can't tell me this annual migration isn't connected with the dream of drinking decent wine every day for not much more than the price of a bottle of Orangina.
Last summer, we ran two wine columns with a French-holiday slant - one on the Loire and the Rhone; the other on the Languedoc and Provence. This year the focus moves west.
In a couple of weeks I hope to be in Bordeaux for a few days, so fresh news from there soon. In the meantime, let's have a look at the wine territory beyond the great wine capital.
What's worth drinking, in the deep south-west? A lot. In terms of profile, this region has been eclipsed both by its lordly aristocratic neighbour and by Languedoc-Roussillon, the new winemaking mecca in the south-east. But that doesn't mean you'll be short of worthwhile bottles - mostly at mouthwatering prices. The French couldn't countenance a dearth of palatable drink to do justice to so many revered regional foods. And this is the land of plenty, with oysters in Arcachon, foie gras and duck confit in Gascony, and Bayonne ham every where.
On the eastern and south-eastern fringes of Bordeaux, various wine regions handle the same grapes, hence the same wine styles - with less fanfare (i.e. price-fuelling hype) but reasonable flair. Bergerac can often outshine basic Bordeaux. Pecharmant, its best red, which must be at least one year old before release, is especially interesting. Monbazillac, the local dessert wine, may be lighter than Sauternes, but it's getting better all the time: grab some good ones to cause a sensation at autumn dinner parties, with bread-and-butter pudding.
Directly to the south of Bergerac and all its little sub-regions, the Cotes du Marmandais can deliver simple, good-value, Bordeaux-style reds for early drinking; the Cotes de Duras both claret-lookalike reds and fresh, easy whites.
But to me, the real appeal of the southwest lies a little further afield, in regions where obscure grape varieties have been used for centuries to produce wines that don't taste remotely like anything from anywhere else.
Some years ago, we had a brilliant family holiday in the Basque Country - in and around the bracing and pretty seaside town of St Jean de Luz. I remember consulting a jolly marchand de vins about the best local wines. His reply was clearcut. White? Jurancon Sec. Red? Madiran. For two weeks we drank little else, working our way through different versions of these two distinctive wine styles.
In its dry form, Jurancon (made mainly from the Gros Manseng grape) is fresh and deliciously fruity, with a tiny hint of spice. Sweet Jurancon (made mainly from Petit Manseng grapes left to shrivel on the vine) can be an inexpensive dessert choice, tasting of honey, nuts and ginger. As for Madiran, it's easy to remember that Gascony's bestknown red is made mainly from the Tannat grape, since this rugged wine is traditionally tannic. Unlike most red wines these days, here is one that definitely needs a few years of bottle age to round out its rough edges. Though I love its meaty intensity, I know some find it a shade too tough, or too astringent. Still, it's worth remembering that in the past couple of years, the best producers have been finding ways to tame that tannic thrust. Be sure to give it a try.
The other great south-western speciality is Cahors, another dense, brooding red from a little region straddling the river Lot, north of Toulouse. The "black wines of Cahors" were popular for centuries with English merchants who badly needed something to beef up their dilute Bordeaux, and with the Avignon popes whose Rhonish habits presumably made them thirst for rich flavours. But only since the 1970s has the region begun to emerge from a long and difficult period of decline. It's had full appellation controlee status since 1971, and slowly but surely, there's new appreciation for these deep, dark beauties. The rules stipulate that they must be at least 70 per cent Malbec (known locally as Cot or Auxerrois), with Merlot and/or Tannat making up the balance.
If you aren't planning any French leave but still like the sound of what the southwest has to offer, it may not be all that easy to assemble a sampling collection. For some reason, Irish wine shops' coverage of this region is patchy. But there's enough out there to make a start. Who knows, maybe it will induce you to book that ferry.
Jurancon: Domaine Bru-Bache, Clos de la Vierge, Domaine de Cauhape, Clos Uroulat
Madiran: Chateau Bouscasse, Chateau Montus, Chateau Laffitte-Teston, Domaine Capmartin
Cahors: Clos Triguedina, Chateau du Cedre, Chateau Lagrezette, Clos de Gamot
South-Westerly Winners
White
Honore de Berticot Sauvignon, Cotes de Duras 1999 (Searsons, Monkstown; Michael's Wines, Mount Merrion; On the Grapevine, Dalkey; Redmonds, Ranelagh; DeVine Wine Shop, Castleknock; Raheny Wine Cellar; Vaughan Johnson's, Temple Bar and other outlets, usually about £6.25). Not much wonder so many restaurants seize on this with glee: it's a ripe, really user-friendly Sauvignon at a knockdown price. A summer white to open any time.
Chateau PiqueSegue Montravel 1999 (Jus de Vine, Portmarnock; Vintry, Rathgar; Cheers-Playwright, Blackrock; Cheers-Wicklow Arms; Wine Vault, Portlaoise and many other off-licences, usually £6.99). Another old favourite, this time from Bergerac. Carefully made from organically cultivated grapes, it combines zippy freshness with smooth, mouth-filling fruit. What everyday white Bordeaux should be but so often isn't.
Chateau Jolys Jurancon Sec 1998 (Wines Direct, £7.60 if you buy a case, which may be mixed). If you're buying dry Jurancon, look at the vintage. There are a number of rather tired three- or four-year-olds on the Irish market at the moment, but not this stylish effort. Lovely pear and pineapple flavours with hints of honey and spice - and the long, lemony finish is refreshing.
Red
Domaine Fleury Laplace Madiran 1996 (Molloys Liquor Stores special offer, £5.99). Beat this for value! See Bottle of the Week.
Chateau de la Colline Bergerac 1997 (Redmonds, Ranelagh; Sweeneys, Dorset Street; Cheers-Comet, Santry; Londis, Malahide; On the Grapevine, Dalkey; Bourkes, Cabinteely; Blessings, Cavan and some other outlets, usually £8.49-£8.99). Well-travelled winemaker Charles Martin gives his Bergeracs New World lushness - and his neighbours a major new talking point. Strikingly rich and round.
Chateau d'Aydie Madiran 1995 (Mitchells, Kildare Street and Glasthule; Jus de Vine, Portmarnock and some other outlets, usually about £13.95). The impressive big brother of our Bottle of the Week, this is the one to go for if you've money to spare. Smoky, meaty, intense, it starts off fleshy and rich, then gradually those Tannat tannins emerge in a long, chewy finish. Not for weaklings - or dinners without meat.