I’m in luck!

Could anything be more French? Nicolas About, a senator, introduced a bill recently to reduce the consequences of speeding. The bill is enormously popular. And its passage would be a huge relief for me.

Think about it. I need not be too worried now about getting flashed on my Solex when I’m late for an interview with a well-known vigneron. Under the current law, even if I were only 5 km over the limit, I would gain a demerit point. Could anything be less fair? Callback radioland is thundering with indignation at the injustice of the current law. Under the reform, I would still have to pay my fine, but in this time of crisis my sorrows would not be compounded by an extra point.

OK, I know that my “motor” bike, being less than 50cc, does not have to bear number plates, but let’s not get sidetracked by facts.

Australian friends, pinch yourselves. In Anglo-Saxon countries, the speed limit is the speed limit, and you get slugged for a sliver over the limit. It’s either legal or illegal. This sort of narrow-minded thinking does not go down well in France, where you have to work out whether the infraction you are committing is formally prohibited, strictly prohibited, prohibited, tolerated or legal. Flexibility is the rule. You should remember this when that next bottle of Rhone red burns out your nasal passages but the label claims a 14% alcohol content.

My Solex is due to roll into Chateauneuf du Pape on 17 June. But it may be stopped by barricades. It’s war between Chateauneuf and the nearby town of Valreas.

When you next open your map of Southern France, look for the boundary between the departments of the Vaucluse and the Drome. A couple of kilometres north of the boundary, you may see another one, a rough circle of about 10 kms diameter. This is the “Enclave des Papes”, administratively part of Vaucluse, but entirely encircled by the Drome. The association with the Popes goes back a long way. The official story is that, when the Popes installed themselves in Avignon in the 14^th century, they liked the wine from the Enclave so much that they annexed the area. They controlled it until the French revolution. I suspect that these days the pursuit of the name probably has less to do with any love for the Pope than it does with the needs of marketers to differentiate the area in a very competitive tourist sector.

Whatever. After all of that, you’d think that the winemakers of Valreas in the heart of the Enclave had a pretty good reason for using the word "Papes" on their bottles. They even registered “Enclave des papes” as a trademark in 1974.  No so. A tribunal recently upheld a claim from Chateauneuf that the use of the word by the Enclave led to confusion among consumers. The AOC system won over the trademark system; incidentally, delivering a deft backhander to the perfidious Anglo-Saxon approach to life.

Naturally enough, the Enclave is appealing against the decision. But in the meantime, the blood is boiling. Invited to a major party last Friday at Chateauneuf, the delegation from the Enclave, festooned with banners, was refused access to the centre of the event. Things got a bit rowdy and people started biffing each other. A few black eyes, but everyone felt a lot better after a few drinks.

I’ll be very careful about the questions I ask when I get there!