It’s a new holiday village but the architecture is traditional, as are the activities. Ian Belcher tries winemaking, trout tickling – and a spot of boar hunting
Club Med, eat your heart out. Mark Warner, look away now. I’ve seen the future of holiday villages and it involves taking pot shots at wild boar, treading Corbières grapes, and – if you’re feeling reckless – tickling speckled trout. Wind surfing and sailing lessons? They’re just so last season, chéri.
Les Jardins de Saint Benoît, tucked into the widescreen panoramic drama of the French Languedoc, is aiming to rewrite the holiday village rulebook. Harnessing the passion, traditions and skill of local Occitane winegrowers and artisans, it offers a practical, herb-infused taste of Mediterranean rural life – a natural high-de-hi.
But the opening revelation comes well before you snaffle a first truffle: Les Jardins has interpreted “village” quite literally – it bulges out from the (real) medieval Saint-Laurent de la Cabrerisse like an ochre hernia. It opened last month, several centuries after its host, but old and new blur into a seamless splatter of terracotta tiles and limestone walls.
It’s a deliberate deception. Three years’ construction, £55m and 15 rewrites of the heritage master plan have captured the details and textures of original village buildings, albeit with modern tweaks such as pergola-shaded gardens. With its grid of stone-paved, car-free streets lined with Victorian copper lamps, it would bring a rosy flush to the Prince of Wales’s cheek. The Gallic Poundbury’s 171 self-catering houses, kissing a stonking restaurant, spa and swimming pool, have state-of-the-art kitchens and bathrooms but display a style dubbed chic rustique: all earth tones, artfully distressed southern French furniture and pastel shutters.
Occupying the site of a ruined 12th-century abbey, Les Jardins is laced with freshly planted olive trees, lavender bushes and roses. If, understandably, it feels rather new, there’s also an original maze of medieval walled gardens, shared with the villagers. These drip with fruit, vegetables and herbs, bordered by well-established organic vineyards, which lead down to the Nielle river.
But the unique heritage architecture is just a soupçon of its integration with Languedoc life. There’s also employment – nearly all the staff live nearby – and a groundbreaking array of guest activities that involve the area’s farmers, chefs and artisans, from cheese makers to beekeepers. “We’re building a bridge between locals and tourists,” says Miguel Espada, president of Garrigae, the resort operator behind Les Jardins. “At Club Med or Mark Warner everyone stays within the complex, but we’re completely open to the community. We want guests to get back to nature, to sample the Mediterranean joie de vivre, to experience totally new things.”
You can say that again, Miguel: it’s the first time sanglier (wild boar) hunting has appeared on my holiday itinerary. But just hours after arriving, I’m crossing Garrigae’s metaphorical bridge with two locals: Daniel Esparza, Saint-Laurent’s former mayor, and his beefy son, Ludo, who are planning to bag a sanglier they spotted scoffing their grapes.
We climb through pine forests, passing an outcrop where witches once danced on the summer solstice, and the promised joie de vivre arrives in the shape of food. Astounding food. Food eaten alfresco yards from the hilltop garden where it was grown: mushrooms with wine and rosemary, lamb shank with creamy aubergine, and cheek-tingling lemon pie. Under dappled sunlight, we wash the meal down with marquisette – white wine with lemon – and bottles of rosé “from those vines over there”. It’s like a Magners commercial only with better booze.
As I gorge, my hosts talk about the dangerous, sly wild boar. Languedoc’s boar population has exploded as new highways have blocked their old foraging routes. The critters have stayed put, gorging on farmers’ crops and producing super-sized litters. “They eat everything,” exclaims Esparza. “Grapes, potatoes, small rabbits. They are pigs.” Which is accurate, if a little harsh.
“It’s not about killing,” he stresses. “It’s about eating. We’re respecting the natural balance of nature. We don’t give boys PlayStations here; we give them guns. I’ve passed on my knowledge of nature to Ludo since he was young.”
Ludo – who says he sometimes smears himself with boar shit to creep close to his prey – seems a good man to hide behind. At midnight, after a final “savage cherry” liqueur that renders accurate shooting impossible, I climb into his battered van. Ludo makes a strangling noise, hinting at the animal’s fate, asks if I’m “ready for adventure”, and then, bar the odd grunt, doesn’t speak for two hours. I’m boar hunting with Obelix.
The former mayor is in another car, leaning out the window. His loaded shotgun rests on the wing mirror – something Boris Johnson hasn’t tried in Chiswick. Yet. We rip across country, up and down rutted tracks, occasionally zipping past village cafés where regulars sit outside sipping late-night digestifs. Grass and vines tower above the van. Every so often Ludo screeches to a stop, listens intently for evidence of wild boar mainlining grapes, grunts, and accelerates. We perform a high-speed swerve to chase a rabbit. If we hit something, death will be sudden and brutal – and the boar may be a little sore as well.
Yesterday Daniel spotted 23 sangliers, but tonight they have stage fright. Or a crystal ball. After two hours we’re still boar-less. It’s an intoxicating rush, but I have rising indigestion and falling bloodlust. We are packed off home, awaiting a dawn call should they spot one.
Late next morning I’m staring straight into the eyes of a dead sanglier. His whiskers drip pathos, his tusks retribution. Don’t fret. No wildlife was harmed in the making of this article. He was shot years ago by vigneron Jean-Pierre Mazard, and his stuffed head now decorates an atmospheric beamed room at Jean-Pierre’s winery, alongside a stuffed owl and some sepia photographs.
I am here to blend Chateau Belcher 2009. Forget straightforward wine-tasting; this is an advanced vino-experience. “It’s a science,” says Jean-Pierre, “a complex art.”
Oenotourism will be central to Les Jardins. Swaddled by the legendary Corbières wine region, the resort aims to immerse guests in its production. You can even lease a strip of vines and, helped by local farmers, make multiple visits to tend and harvest your grapes, before bottling a bespoke mini vintage.
Most of the activities are highly seasonal – November means picking and pressing olives; January is for hunting truffles – but I’m here in a quiet spell. So Jean-Pierre and wine technician Matthieu Dubernet show me how to mix my own rocket fuel from three classic Languedoc grapes harvested last year: Syrah, Grenache and Carignan. Individually, they’re unbalanced mono-wines, but together they make sweet music.
We start by sampling an acclaimed blend: Jean-Pierre’s 2004 Cuvée Annie, with its scent of cherries, olives and menthol. It’s done in a friendly, unintimidating atmosphere. You don’t have to be an expert, just find a blend you like.
We move on to the mono wines. Carignan is a bit “animaux” and Grenache is “sweeter, bigger, smoother”. But I can’t make a single intelligent observation on Syrah. “Turkish delight?” I hazard. Jean-Pierre, the 12th generation of Mazard winemakers, diplomatically raises the tone, explaining that Syrah is complex, with hints of garrigues, thyme, rosemary and blackcurrant.
Just like Turkish delight. Thank you.
Things then turn scientific, with glass measuring jars and a calculator. It’s seriously absorbing. Minor blend changes carry major clout. Cuvée Annie is 65% Syrah and 35% Carignan and Grenache. But reduce the Syrah, up the Grenache and it becomes “fruity, easy-drinking”.
It’s like playing with a gourmet chemistry kit. We reintroduce a little Syrah, apparently making it more “terroir”, but my first solo tweak turns this to “absolute pants” – my verdict, not Jean-Pierre’s – with astringent tannins. After two more changes, I’ve created Chateau Belcher: 15% Carignan, 30% Grenache, 55% Syrah. It’s declared “very drinkable” but, frankly, it’s basic polyester compared with the velvety Serres-Mazard 2004 I depart with.
Along with other activities – Les Jardins plans to start a weekly market – winemaking is part of Garrigae’s drive to champion local produce. “We want to be a locomotive for the region,” says Espada. “Local producers are passionate, but they know virtually nothing about marketing.”
This is personal. The charismatic Espada, who made his fortune through an internet start-up, is committed to promoting his home region. “I grew up 15km from here and feel a real social responsibility,” he says. “If this wasn’t good, my family would kill me.”
Kids’ activities reflect his Languedoc childhood, whether it’s pottering on the resort farm or harvesting wild figs to make jam. I sample an option you won’t find in Balham: trout tickling. It sounds like an MP’s expenses claim, and is suitably slimy. First we feel under a flat rock in the Nielle, where fish doze in the shallows. Then we sedate them by caressing their bellies, before attempting a lightning grab.
It’s glorious Enid Blyton-esque fun, but it would be a shame to leave surrounding Languedoc unexplored. I drive through a vast landscape marked by vineyards, hamlets and vertiginous switchback roads en route to the giddyingly high Cathar stronghold of Quéribus – a perfect goal for cycling masochists.
Back at Les Jardins I’m paralysed by heat and the range of activities. Perhaps I need a grapeseed oil and herb massage among the vines? Or maybe something more mainstream, like tennis? I’m contemplating whether I’m too old for the kids’ club – Circus Training with Denis la Rue followed by Smell Lotto sounds sensational – when I meet Mark and Jenny from north Lincolnshire. They stumbled across Les Jardins on the web, caught a Ryanair flight to Carcassonne, and appear happily bemused. “I never thought I’d be grouting a mosaic on my holidays,” says Jenny. “It’s quirky, but also very upmarket. ‘Holiday Village’ doesn’t do it justice – it’s far more stylish shabby-chic than most coastal resorts.”
Strangely, I also have no experience of holiday mosaic grouting. It’s tempting, but I plump for something perhaps equally bizarre: goat herding. I’m visiting Guillaume Portal, a laconic, roll-up smoking producer of award-winning cheeses. But you, or more likely your children, can help lead the goats out from the steep pastures for milking – the fuel for Guillaume’s fabulous fromage.
It’s a schizophrenic world. One minute I’m in the goat shed, with more flies than the Aussie outback, the next I’m wearing a plastic coat and shoe covers, standing in a startlingly hygienic production plant, learning about intestinal enzymes. It is, however, safe to say few people return from holiday knowing how to stimulate a mushroom crust on a three-kilogramme goat’s cheese.
Later I’m using the stuff to make Languedoc tapas. Dany from Saint-Laurent demonstrates, while her winemaker son provides translation, tasty vino and a heartfelt testimony to Les Jardins. “It has the spirit of our village,” Arnaud says. “It’s good for my generation’s future.”
That will be music to Espada’s ears. Les Jardins, Garrigae’s third opening, has attracted large regional government subsidies, and massive interest from the French press. “We really believe we’re pioneering a unique model of sustainable tourism,” he says. “This will become the norm in a few years. Who knows, maybe one day we’ll end up buying all those traditional holiday villages.”
Essentials
A one-bedroom house (sleeping two) at Les Jardins de Saint Benoît (0871 2187066; garrigaeresorts.com) costs from £145 a night (seven-night stays from £716). Larger houses available. Activities cost extra: cheesemaking and goatherding €26, trout tickling €43, wine blending €34, and a full-scale boar hunt €128. Rail Europe (0844 8484070; raileurope.co.uk) has returns to Narbonne from £105. Avis (08445 818181; avis.co.uk) offers seven days’ car hire from £242.
More ways to enjoy the best of rural France
Walking in Corcsica
There’s no better way to experience Corsica than on foot. Headwater (01606 720199; headwater.com) offers an eight-day “Contrasts of Corsica” independent walking holiday, which starts in Piana and takes in stunning coastal paths, lemon groves, pine-clad forests and mountain streams. Two nights are spent in Corte, the historic old capital in the mountainous heart of the island, famous for its spectacular citadel, which is perched precariously on a large craggy outcrop.
• From £869 in August, including five hotels, most meals, route notes and luggage transfers. Fly from Gatwick to Ajaccio in Corsica with Easyjet (easyjet.com).
Lavender Festival in Montelimar
From next Saturday, the town of Montélimar in the Rhône-Alpes region is holding its annual two-day lavender festival (montelimar-tourisme.com). There’ll be flower arranging, traditional lavender distilling, flower-decorated horse-drawn carriages and the chance to stock up on lavender byproducts, such as honey and candles.
• Fly Gatwick-Marseille with Easyjet (easyjet.com) and hire a car through Auto Europe (auto-europe.co.uk) for the 170km drive to Montélimar. For places to stay visit montelimar-tourisme.com.
A chalet in the Alps
Summer is a great time to visit an Alpine ski resort: the crowds have gone and the pistes are transformed into glorious green hills. Just France (020 8780 4463; justfrance.co.uk) offers chalet holidays throughout the French Alps. The Chalet Chavannes, just above the resort of Les Gets, sleeps six and has an open garden with a stream running through it and a large balcony with a sauna and relaxation area. Visit the adventure park and lake just 15 minutes’ walk away, and Lake Geneva and the spa towns of Evian and Thonon-les-Bains are a short drive away.
• From £784 for a seven-night stay for six people in July/August, including return ferry crossing from Dover to Calais.
Wine & canal cruise in the Loire Valley
Sample your way through the Loire Valley on Le Boat’s Wine Lovers’ Cruise (0844 463 3577; leboat.co.uk). The round-trip cruise departs from Chatillon-sur-Loire and takes in Nevers and Sancerre, where you can learn all about the region’s vineyards at the Maison des Sancerre, a 15th-century house dedicated to the art of wine-making.
• A seven-night tour for up to eight people in August costs from £2,255. Fuel costs extra. Fly to Paris with Easyjet (as before), then take the train (one-and-a-half hours) to Chatillon-sur-Loire.
