Updated by: August 10, 2026
La Médocaine
I arrived in Ludon-Médoc cooked. Six days of walking from Saintes, thirty-five degrees, and one thing on my mind. A cold beer.
Ben, my host, had other ideas. It’s too hot for beer, he said. We need rosé. Come on.
Ben used to be the mayor here. Ten years. He knows everyone in this town, he told me, and I believe him, because the town is five thousand people and he drove me through it in his small electric Citroën waving at most of them.
We went to La Médocaine, the village wine cellar since 1963. The flyer says more than 3,500 wines wait for you inside. A town of five thousand people, a cellar of three and a half thousand wines. Almost one each.
There was an offer on. Buy five bottles, get one free. Ben was not a man to leave free bottles on the table. When we came out, we came out with eight cases.
The Citroën took them, just, sitting down on its axles, humming quietly back through the village while the former mayor waved at his constituents.
We carried the cases in together. Then Ben opened the fridge and handed me a beer. We drank beers all evening, all types. We finished with the rosé. He was right, it was good in the heat. When it got late, he said goodnight so I could watch France in the World Cup.
Ninety-five bottles stayed in the hallway.
Paul Mercuri
Wake Up Here Founder
