What’s in a name? If you’re the city of Châlons-sur-Marne positioned on the edge of the Champagne region, it is probably lack of name recognition. In 1998, the decision was made to rename the capital of the department of the Marne to Châlons-en-Champagne. Much better. The irony is that the Champagne vineyards that once surrounded Châlons were all lost to the destructive insect pest phylloxera.
In the 19th century, there were a 1,000 hectares of vineyards around the town and it boasted more than a dozen Champagne Houses. It wasn’t just Châlons that suffered at the hands of phylloxera. Some 14 thousand hectares of champagne vineyards were lost, most never to return. It’s no wonder the stuff is so expensive, but it does beg the question of why they didn’t replant?
If the rest of this region is famed for its vine strewn landscape and multiple Champagne Houses in its towns and villages, Châlons-en-Champagne feels more like a workaday town than a legendary wine centre. The good news is that one Champagne House survived and thrived in Châlons … and it does one of the best Champagne House tours I’ve been on (there have been a few).
Founded in 1825, Joseph Perrier (no relation to the fizzy water Perriers) is Châlons only surviving Champagne House. We went on a tour of their cellars that was fascinating. The cellars were first built in the 4th century by the Romans, who dug tunnels into the chalk hillside for the stone needed to build a town on the banks of the River Marne (it’s said that near here the Romans defeated Attila the Hun in 451).
Over the centuries, the tunnels were expanded until today there are over 3km of them housing around 4 million bottles of Champagne. It is a remarkable experience to walk through the tunnels illuminated with orange lights. Even better was emerging back into the light and sitting down to sample three of their Champagnes. It was easy to see why Britain’s Queen Victoria was a fan.
One of the great anecdotes of the tour was that Victoria wanted to order some bottles for a royal reception. Fearful of someone placing a bomb in the concave indentation known as a ‘punt’ in the base of a bottle – there had been several attempts on her life – she insisted they create a flat bottomed bottle for her. They did and she bought 600 of them.
We left with a more modest two bottles. Châlons is a working town, but it has history and a lovely centre. One of the main sights is the Église Notre-Dame-en-Vaux, one of the UNESCO World Heritage Sites on the Pilgrimage Route to Santiago de Compostela. In centuries past, it’s said pilgrims worshipped a relic of Jesus’ umbilical cord here (I wish I was joking). Sadly, the Holy Umbilical Cord was destroyed in the 18th century.
Nearby, in the Place du Maréchal Foch, the grand Hôtel de Ville had added large plants to the statues of lions that guard the entrance. They looked like they were waiting to leap out on unwary passersby. A road led from here to the Place de la République past the 12th century Église Saint-Alpin and several half timbered houses. The centre is small but packed with sights.
Close to the indoor market is one of the true delights of Châlons, the Musée des Beaux-Arts. Almost every French town has a Musée des Beaux-Arts, but very few have an exhibition dedicated to the jugglers, tightrope walkers, rope dancers, animal handlers and clowns of the circus. Featuring works by several famous artists, including Chagall, the sketches of circus performers by Picasso were a highlight.
An exhibition on the circus shouldn’t come as a surprise. Châlons is home to the Centre National des Arts du Cirque, making it the capital of French circus. There’s a festival in June that would make a repeat visit worthwhile. Close to here the English Gardens lead to the river. We strolled along before heading to the 12th century cathedral. Back by the market we found a cafe, ordered a glass of the local champagne and watched the world go by.
Certainly looks like a charming town
A charming town with a complicated history.
That add to its charm
adds