Stephen Brook's last day in Bordeaux

Friday morning and the final day. Sunshine at last. I’m at Latour at 10, and spend half an hour with Frédéric Engerer, the rather scary director. But he is very diffident and modest about the wines, explaining that you needed to accept the quality of the raw materials at your disposal. This meant keeping the fruit and not unbalancing the wine by over-chaptalising or over-extracting. The wines reflect this view, but they remain light for Latour: certainly well made, but lacking the force that’s so typical of this property. We agree that whatever the defects of the vintage, 30 years ago it would have been impossible to produce wines of this quality.

Then to Ch Ferrière in Margaux to the final UCG tasting: Margaux, principally. A pretty dull collection, and it’s hard to work up much enthusiasm. Few poor wines, but very few wines that shine out. I keep reminding myself that one of the many fascination of Bordeaux is that vintages vary and that means accepting the lighter ones too. As always, balance is all, and the wines that have stood out this week are those that have expressed the essential fruitiness of the vintage and skilfully compensated for the low acidity without extracting too fiercely. And clearly those estates with the means to eliminate any sub-standard fruit regardless of cost have fared best.

At 12 the tasters begin to depart for Giscours for the farewell lunch and I shall follow them. It will be a facsimile of the opening dinner on Monday, so no need to weary readers with accounts of yet another meal and facetious conversation. Au revoir for this year.

live, from Bordeaux, it's Stephen Brook...

At breakfast I quiz the experienced French journalist Bernard Burtschy, who opines that 2007 is a ‘petit millésime’. No argument there. I forget how long it takes to crawl up the D2 road through the Médoc and arrive at Lafite ten minutes after the Decanter team. I have no appointment but persuade the receptionist that I am part of the group, which in one sense I am. The wine is very good, though not spectacular.

The first UGC tasting of Médoc wines is at Ch Lagrange. This proves a deep disappointment. Dullness and low acidity and some over-extraction featured in too many of them. The aromas were rich and fruity and there was usually ample fruit on the palate, but with little staying power or elegance. The exceptions were Langoa-Barton, Léoville-Barton, Branaire-Ducru, Clerc Milon, Haut-Bages-Libéral, Pontet-Canet, and Lafon-Rochet.

French journalist Raoul Salama approaches to remind me he is working on some mysterious project with the University of Bordeaux and requests my scores, as he did last year, on a few specific St Julien wines. I’m embarrassed to report my low scores, but find that his are even less enthusiastic. At lunch we are offered some mature vintages of Lagrange, of which the 1985 was the most delicious.

Lunchtime chitchat with some Bordelais present suggests that the growers are quite annoyed by the rather harsh criticisms the vintage has received, especially from the American press. Since the jittery Americans aren’t going to buy the 2007s, it seems to me the Bordelais can just ignore that criticism. One buys en primeur to secure a bargain and because the wines will improve with cellaring. The 2007s have slender appeal, are extremely mixed in quality, and most of them should be drunk within ten years. They will make admirable bin-ends.

At 3.00 I am at Margaux. As I walk past the château, I see a familiar figure, somewhat disguised by dark glasses. It’s the owner, Corinne Mentzelopoulos, and she is chatting to the American critic Stephen Tanzer. She leads us to the Margaux cooperage, and the estate director Paul Pontallier joins us moments later. An hour later the four of us are still there, discussing recent vintage and the mysteries of the 2007 vintage.

Paul is the most persuasive winemaker in Bordeaux. He almost – but not quite – convinces me that although this is not a great vintage, Margaux has made a great wine. Unfortunately we also have the opportunity to taste the superb 2006 and the simply astonishing 2005, with its fabulous aromas and explosive fruit. The 2007 is pure, balanced, and stylish, but it can’t compete with those preceding vintages.

Corinne sees us to the gate, her dog Zorba yapping at her side. I ask her whether Zorba has ever been honoured with the dog spot on the last page of Decanter. ‘Not yet,’ she says, pointedly. Zorba then pisses on a bollard near the gate, and Corinne turns to me: ‘He doesn’t realise it’s a monument historique.’

My unexpectedly but gratifyingly long visit to Margaux makes me late for my Mouton appointment, which I share with some weary Alsatians and camera-wielding Taiwanese. Like Margaux, the Mouton is sleek and very elegant, yet somehow the fruit doesn’t shine out – at least, not yet. After a quick chat with the technical director, Philippe Dhalluin, I return to the comforts of La Lagune.

During a late dinner at the château, with essentially the same guests, I mention a wine I had blind-tasted that morning. I said I had scored it highly, and recalled that I did so almost every year, only to find that the wine, once bottled, was consistently mediocre. My suspicion was that the sample was fixed to show the property at its very best. A quick canvas of the table showed that Beverley Blanning had scored it highly, as had an associate of Michel Bettane and Bettane himself (who was not present). However, Jo Gryn and Bernard Burtschy had given the same wine a very low mark. ‘Je l’ai massacré,’ said Burtschy. So who is right? A bunch of experienced tasters is split down the middle. Caveat emptor.

If it's Wednesday, it must be St Emilion - Stephen Brook reports

A damp drive to St Emilion to the blind tasting of Premiers Crus Classés – other than Ausone and Cheval Blanc. It’s always fascinating to taste these wines side by side and the temptation to try to identify them is irresistible. The differences in style are remarkable: the delicate Bélair and La Magdelaine (both quite easy to spot), and the more lush and concentrated Pavie, Angelus, and Pavie-Macquin. To my surprise Pavie was one of the best wines, without the exaggerations that have marred previous vintages.

Then to Ch Larmande for the UGC tasting of St Emilion and Pomerol. The Decanter team is here in force. For some reason the wines are not sorted into appellations, which I find tiresome. As always happens, the Premiers re-tasted here sometimes score differently. Do the samples differ, or our palates? Hard to say. Once I have been given the list of wines, I realise I have been disappointed by wines I normally adore, such as La Conseillante. I taste them again, but my original impression is confirmed. Overall I find too many soft plump wines with scant acidity. Ironically, this is a vintage that would probably appeal to many Americans, but this is also a vintage that American critics are dissuading them from buying.

Larmande lay on a fine buffet lunch. Thierry Manoncourt swings by with a bottle of 1995 Figeac, which is emptied within about five minutes. At 2.00 Jo Gryn suggests we have another go at Lafleur, and this time we are successful. We are received with great courtesy and enthusiasm by owners Jacques and Sylvie Guinaudeau. The 2007 seems wonderfully harmonious and elegant; it’s probably the best wine I have tasted this week. When no other visitors are around, Jacques sneaks us a glass each of the 2006, which has more power and richness, perhaps less finesse. But both are beautiful wines.

On to Ausone. I have to manoeuvre the car up the terrifying goat’s path that leads to the château. The struggle is worthwhile. Once again Alain Vauthier has made a great wine with poise and flair. There’s a party atmosphere here: a team from Berry Bros & Rudd, the winemaker Jacques Lurton in another corner, Alain genially holding court. But there’s no time to linger, and we’re off to Ch Rouget for a Pomerol tasting. Then at 4.30 we drive to Cheval Blanc. Here the Cabernet Franc shines through, giving real freshness and elegance in a year when both seem in short supply. American writer Becky Sue Epstein relates that she inadvertently flooded her room last night at Franc-Mayne, and had to share her bed with her suitcase and clothes. She says it’s my fault.

By now I am anxious to get going. I’m staying at La Lagune and fear the Bordeaux rush hour will delay me. But I’m in luck, and am there by six. The staff is unchanged since I stayed at this exquisite château last year, so we exchange greetings. I’m usually in the Chinese room, but this time I’m staying in the even larger Louis XVI room. I’m tempted to claim squatter’s rights and stay here indefinitely.

Caroline Frey has invited to dinner her guests at the 17th-century château, supplemented by a bunch of journalists staying in a local hotel. This is just the kind of Bordelais dinner I enjoy. It’s truly international, with representatives from Singapore, Australia, Indonesia, Belgium, France and Britain. Pooling our linguistic resources, we communicate easily enough. Johan, the Indonesian wine writer (almost a contradiction in terms), tells me about an ailment that requires him to knock back twice a day, according to his Chinese doctor, an infusion of dried ants. ‘Disgusting, and the smell is worse.’ That doesn’t stop him and us imbibing white Crozes-Hermitage from Jaboulet (owners: Frey family), La Lagune, and Doisy-Daëne. To bed at midnight. The rest of the week will be spent in the Médoc. How will it compare with the other regions? The Bordeaux PR machine is going all out to persuade us of the merits of the vintage. Are we convinced?

Stephen Brook continues the hard slog of en primeur tastings

Yesterday evening I was asking Stephen Carrier, the new director at Fieuzal, for the best route to Haut-Brion during the rush hour. ‘Don’t bother,’ he said. ‘I’ll organize a taxi to take you there and back. It’ll be much easier.’ So at 8.15 Jo Gryn and I clamber into a taxi for the ride to the first growth. (For me, Fieuzal is the wine of the vintage, obviously...) Jo and I swap more stories: of journalists dropped off at hotels after a hard day’s tasting and then informed that no dinner was being provided, and those same weary journalists motoring to the nearest Carrefour to pick up ingredients for a sandwich. Of another journalist dining alone in a large draughty château, since his hosts couldn’t be bothered to entertain him. We rejoice that we have been spared such indignities.

At Haut-Brion we taste alongside Jancis Robinson, Steven Spurrier, James Lawther, and other Brits. I don’t like the second wines much (that’s why they are second wines) but La Mission and Haut Brion are good, if not exceptional; and the white Haut Brion is very good indeed. My colleagues return to their rickety rented cars, while Jo and I are wafted back to Fieuzal, where I pick up my car and drive to Haut Bailly to the UGC tasting of Graves and Pessac-Léognan. Some herbaceous reds, some extracted reds, some suave and balanced wines - but overall I prefer the whites, which are racy and pure, if not, at this stage, very complex.

Véronique Sanders was our perfect host at the château she runs. I recall delicious lunches at Haut Bailly in the past, and the tradition is alive and well. Daniel Cathiard from Smith Haut Lafitte tells me he thinks 2007 is a great white vintage, but I have yet to be convinced. Fortunately, Haut-Bailly was my second top red; Smith white and red both scored well. It’s so embarrassing to have to lie to one’s hosts. I ask Daniel where his wife Florence is.

‘She’s with some American importers. Much as we love the press, we love importers with cheque books even more. So we’re dividing the duties of the week between us.’

After lunch journalists are supposed to go to the press conference at Bordeaux University to discuss the new vintage. I find it of limited value – we have access to countless vintage reports – so I decide to spend the afternoon in St Emilion. Jo wants to join me, as does wine publisher Fabian Cobb. This is precisely the situation I try to avoid. I bring my own car so as to be independent, and then end up, or can easily end up, as a taxi driver. I make it clear to both gentlemen that I alone dictate our itinerary, and both accept my conditions.

I make a return visit to Stéphane Derenoncourt’s tasting, and this time it’s up and running. Stéphane is not there. I chance upon a new St Emilion estate: two wine-loving friends who bought a small property, on Derenoncourt’s advice, and are now developing it. It’s touching to find people on the brink of an adventure, and the wine, Ch Edmus, despite the problems of the vintage, is quite good. I greet some familiar faces, taste a few wines, and after half an hour we leave.

Jo suggests we swing past Lafleur. Not so easy. We are both veterans of the Pomerol landscape and still manage to get lost and drive round in circles. And when we finally churn up the gravel of the Lafleur driveway, we find, to our dismay, that there is no one around. So it’s off to Ch Laroque for a tasting of biodynamic wines. I soon give up. The famous wines - Huet, Zind-Humbrecht – I don’t need to taste, while the rest are unknown quantities and I don’t have the time or energy to work out what’s worth tasting.

I deposit Fabian at La Tour Figeac, where he is staying. I tell him the owner, Otto Rettenmaier, is a whiz at grilling entrecotes, and wish him a pleasant evening. Jo and I return to Fieuzal. He has organised a tasting of the last ten vintages of the red wines. It’s clear to both of us that this is a bad patch for Fieuzal, and we say so. Stephen Carrier doesn’t disagree, but a new regime is in place and even in 2007 there are signs of improvement. Then he takes us to dine at Smith Haut-Lafitte’s excellent brasserie. He shows us what Fieuzal used to be capable of, pouring the 1985s, red and white, both delicious. Then we are tortured by various blind tastings. Jo is better than I at guessing vintage and property: he dares to guess Haut-Brion and is right. But with the last flight I correctly guess the appellations: St Emilion and Pomerol - but get them in the wrong order. We all marginally prefer 2001 Bon Pasteur to 2001 Cheval Blanc, but naturally have second thoughts once the wines, both magnificent, are identified.

We refresh our palates with vintage champagne before returning to Fieuzal. Despite my moderate inebriation, I am doing a sterling and surprisingly accurate job of recalling what we drank. Early to bed: midnight.

Stephen Brook continues his En Primeur diary: an aromatic bath, a fit of pique, and a raid on the high table...

Wake at six, far earlier than intended. The bathroom is stuffed with toiletries all based on olive oil, so I emerge smelling like an Extra Virgin. For some reason I have not received invitations to the Rolland or Thunevin tastings, so out of pique I head for the Stéphane Derenoncourt tasting, invitation in hand. Unfortunately the timings given on the invitation were incorrect. I arrived on the dot of nine, but the tasting didn’t begin till ten.

There was no point hanging around, so I drove on spec to Le Bon Pasteur in Pomerol, where Michel Rolland’s wines are usually available for tasting. I had the place to myself, although Rolland himself was genially posing for a photographer.

I tasted rapidly as I had an appointment at Moueix at 10. Here, as always, the wines are ranged in a spacious L around the tasting room in Libourne. The Pomerols were rich and fleshy, but also a touch soft. The balance was impeccable, yet the wines lacked a little flair and persistence. Christian Moueix explained that the pH levels were mysteriously high in 2007, which gave the wines that soft core. He felt it important not to extract too much, and to respect the nature of the fruit, which dictated that the wines would be full of fruit but mostly built for early consumption.

Left at 11 and headed into Bordeaux to Pape-Clément to taste the wines of Bernard Magrez. Got lost as usual, but deconstructed my error and arrived at about noon. Some more members of the Decanter team were there too, one without luggage (thanks to British Airways), the other without his notebook, diary, etc., having left them by mistake on the plane. None of this prevented us enjoying, after the tasting and a chat with M. Magrez, a decent lunch.

By 1.30 it was time to leave for Ch Coutet, where the first of the UGC blind tastings were being held: Sauternes.

Attractive wines, easy to taste: fresh, quite citric, perhaps lacking depth and weight, but well balanced. Fargues was my top wine. Unusually for the annual Sauternes tasting, there were no poor wines. However, some wines were taken straight from barrel and were clouded with lees, while others had been filtered for the occasion. These are wines at the very beginning of their evolution.

Then to Ch Climens, which does not show its wines at the UGC tasting, but keeps open house for interested journalists. Jancis Robinson, Michel Bettane, and top wine writers from Italy huddled round the barrels and spittoons.

We taste different lots, from different harvesting dates, with expert commentary either from Bérénice Lurton, the owner, or from the estate director. Their perfectionism is a joy to witness. And the wines are glorious.

The Belgian journalist Jo Gryn is being lodged at Ch Fieuzal, as am I, so I give him a lift. On the way we swap stories of our worst experiences at Bordeaux châteaux. At Fieuzal we are installed in the house built recently by Irish owner Lochlann Quinn. My first task is diplomatic.

I dread having to drive back to Sauternes, where the opening banquet is being held at Ch Guiraud, and then driving back to Fieuzal. Jo and I make it clear that we expect transport to be provided, so that we wine writers can actually enjoy the wines being poured rather than abstaining so as to keep the gendarmerie happy. There are complications, but Jo is adamant.

So we are driven to Guiraud. I spend the first 30 minutes there shaking hands with other writers and with the proprietors. There is no seating plan for the dinner. I find myself at the same table as Thierry Manoncourt, the youthful nonagenarian proprietor of Figeac, José Sanfins of Cantenac-Brown, Marie-Louise Schyler of AXA Millésimes, and a young woman who was apoplectic about the fact that James Suckling of The Wine Spectator had insisted on tasting before the rest of the press, and then rushed into print to rubbish the vintage. I seem to recall a similar lament about ten years ago. The Bordelais seem less troubled by his velocity when his verdict is favourable.

I am seated next to Becky Sue Epstein from Boston, and point out to her that we are next to the table d’honneur, at which some first growths are on offer. I impress on her the injustice of this arrangement and dispatch her to do her best. She returns in triumph with 2003 Mouton, which reduces the wines on our table to rubble. Proceedings draw to a close at an early 11.30, and we return to our chateaux and our beds.