Drink In Life
Savoring Life, Writing Through It
Montmartre Walking Wine Tour: Discover Montmartre’s Hidden First Muse
Paris has a way of teaching you that discovery depends on pace. If you rush, it shows you what everyone else sees: the postcards, the lines, the view you’ve already met in a hundred photographs. Slow down, and the city begins to reveal the stories hiding just beyond them. Which is exactly how I found myself booking a Montmartre walking wine tour to explore the city’s hidden liquid history.
A few weeks before this return trip to France, I was having coffee with another wine writer as we talked about upcoming travel. I mentioned that my husband and I would be spending three nights in Paris before heading to Champagne and Bordeaux. She looked at me and asked, “Have you been to Clos Montmartre?”
I admitted I had no idea what she was talking about.
“It’s the last working vineyard in Paris,” she said.
I honestly thought she was joking.
Until that moment, I had no idea there was a working vineyard in Paris. After years of studying wine, earning my WSET Level 3 certification, and visiting wine regions around the world, I was genuinely surprised that Clos Montmartre had somehow escaped me. Then again, that’s one of the things I love most about both wine and travel. Just when you think you’ve seen it all, someone introduces you to a place you never knew existed.
That simple question changed how I planned our time in the city. Previously Montmartre had always been a name to me, with images of artists, cafés, and the white domes of Sacré-Cœur. I’d read about it, seen it in films, but I’d never visited. Now I had another reason to go. I wanted to understand how a vineyard had survived in the middle of one of the world’s most visited cities.
Rather than wandering the neighborhood on our own, we joined a walking tour with Paris Wine Walks, a small company that blends history and wine at a pace that allows the stories to unfold naturally. Long before Montmartre became known for painters and poets, these hillsides were covered in vines. That sounded like exactly the introduction I was looking for.
Montmartre’s vineyard is not hidden. It stands on Rue des Saules, green against the pale stone, easy to find and just as easy to overlook. People stop to photograph it, calling it “secret,” then continue toward the square. Yet there’s nothing secret about a place that has stood here since the twelfth century. The vineyard is visible history, a survivor that has outlasted every era built around it.
Before I share the highlights of the tour, it’s worth taking a step back. I’ve learned that the best travel experiences make far more sense when you understand the story behind them, and Montmartre is no exception. Long before artists filled the cafés and visitors climbed the hill to Sacré-Cœur, these slopes were covered in vineyards.
Wine wasn’t a footnote in Montmartre’s history; it helped shape the neighborhood itself. As Vincent van Gogh once wrote, “Great things are done by a series of small things brought together.” Looking around the vineyard, it was easy to see how centuries of small decisions, careful preservation, and a community that refused to let its history disappear had kept this remarkable place alive.
Montmartre-Where Paris Keeps Her Muse
Before Montmartre became synonymous with artists and cafés, it was a village of vineyards. Long before Renoir, Picasso, Dalí, or Cézanne climbed these hills in search of inspiration, local families were tending vines that covered the slopes. Wine was part of everyday life here, and the hill’s rich gypsum deposits supported a thriving community that felt worlds away from the bustle of central Paris.
That peaceful rhythm didn’t last forever. In 1814, during the final days of the Napoleonic Wars, Russian troops occupied the hill and used its commanding elevation to bombard Paris. Standing here today, surrounded by cafés and garden walls, it’s difficult to imagine cannon fire echoing across the city. History has a remarkable way of disguising itself. If you didn’t know where to look, you’d never guess that one of Paris’ most charming neighborhoods had once stood at the center of a battle.
Montmartre reinvented itself in the decades that followed. By the late nineteenth century, artists, musicians, writers, and dreamers arrived, drawn by inexpensive rents, abundant light, and sweeping views across Paris. Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec captured the energy of the Moulin Rouge, while Picasso, Modigliani, Renoir, and countless others found both inspiration and community here.
As Pablo Picasso famously said, “Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.” Walking these same streets, it’s easy to understand why so many artists found exactly what they were looking for.
Today, Montmartre wears a different face. The cafés are busier, the streets are filled with visitors, and souvenir shops compete for attention. Yet I found that it doesn’t take much to step beyond the crowds. Turn down a quieter lane, pause outside a neighborhood boulangerie, or linger beside the vineyard for a few extra minutes, and the pace begins to change. That’s what I enjoyed most about this walk. It reminded me that Montmartre isn’t simply a place to see. It’s a place to slow down, look a little closer, and discover the layers that most visitors never notice.
Montmartre Walking Wine Tour
Our walk began at 2 Rue du Mont-Cenis, where we met our guide, Geoffrey Finch, founder of Paris Wine Walks. Standing in the shadow of the Sacré-Cœur Basilica, it would have been easy to let my attention drift toward one of Paris’ most recognizable landmarks. Instead, Geoffrey directed our gaze to something far older: the Église Saint-Pierre de Montmartre.
Dating to 1133 and built on the site of an earlier Roman temple dedicated to Mars, Saint-Pierre is the second-oldest surviving church in Paris. Long before visitors filled the steps leading to Sacré-Cœur, this church stood at the heart of the Abbey of Montmartre, surrounded by vineyards that stretched across the hillside. It was a fitting place to begin because the story of Montmartre’s wine begins here.
Near the beginning of the walk, Geoffrey stopped outside La Commanderie du Clos Montmartre and pointed through the iron gates to a cluster of grapevines tucked beneath protective cloth. At the time, I didn’t think much of it. In fact, I had no idea I was already standing beside the Clos Montmartre vineyard.
Hidden behind stone walls and neighboring gardens, it blends so naturally into the neighborhood that it’s remarkably easy to walk right past without ever realizing it’s there. It wasn’t until later that I realized we’d taken the slow, scenic route to the vineyard, and looking back, I’m glad we did.
At that point, Geoffrey gave us one simple assignment. “Keep your eyes open,” he said. “You’ll be surprised how many more grapevines you’ll find. Look everywhere.” At the time, it seemed like a fun little challenge. I didn’t realize until much later that he was teaching us to see Montmartre in a completely different way.
The challenge to spot vines quickly became our group’s own little game of “I Spy.” Every few blocks, someone would excitedly point toward a vine climbing an old stone wall, weaving through an iron fence, or stretching across a tiny garden tucked behind a gate. Before long, we were all scanning windows, courtyards, balconies, and garden walls, determined to be the first to spot the next one. I’ll admit, it became surprisingly competitive.
What I loved most was realizing those vines weren’t there by accident. They are quiet reminders of Montmartre’s past, a neighborhood where vineyards once covered the hillside and wine was part of everyday life. Even after urban development replaced most of the vines, many residents continued growing grapevines in their gardens and along their walls, preserving a tradition that stretches back for centuries. The Clos Montmartre vineyard may be the last working vineyard in Paris, but it’s certainly not the only place where the spirit of Montmartre’s wine heritage is still alive.
By the end of the tour, I was scanning every fence, garden, and stone wall for another vine. That’s one of the things I love most about wine and travel. They have a wonderful way of rewarding curiosity. Once you begin looking a little closer, you start noticing the stories that were there all along.
As we continued our tour, it quickly became clear that Montmartre still feels more like a village than a Paris neighborhood.
The narrow, winding street climbs steadily uphill, lined with nineteenth-century buildings, shuttered windows, neighborhood cafés, and small shops that seem untouched by time. It’s not difficult to understand why artists were drawn here.
Maurice Utrillo painted these very streets countless times, captivated by their quiet beauty and soft light. Walking them more than a century later, I found myself slowing down, noticing details I might have otherwise walked right past.
One of those details was La Maison Rose, the little pink house that has become one of Montmartre’s most recognizable landmarks. Sitting quietly at the corner of Rue des Saules and Rue de l’Abreuvoir, it feels almost too perfect to be real. Maurice Utrillo immortalized it in his 1916 painting La Maison Rose à Montmartre, capturing a scene that has changed remarkably little over the last century.
The building owes its distinctive blush-colored façade to Germaine Pichot, wife of Catalan painter Ramon Pichot, who transformed it into a restaurant where artists such as Picasso and Utrillo gathered to eat, drink, argue about art, and undoubtedly find inspiration.
These days, the conversations around the tables are a little different. Fans of Emily in Paris now make a pilgrimage here after the restaurant appeared in Season 1, with visitors patiently lining up for their turn beneath the famous green shutters. I had to smile watching the parade of cameras and carefully posed photos. Montmartre has always inspired artists. It seems today, it influences a different kind of canvas.
I’ll admit, I expected a little history before we arrived at the wine. What I didn’t expect was just how much of Montmartre’s story Geoffrey would bring to life along the way. Every few steps there seemed to be another hidden courtyard, overlooked landmark, or centuries-old detail that I would have walked right past on my own. It quickly became clear that this wasn’t simply a wine tour with a few historical facts sprinkled in. It was a walking history lesson that just happened to end with wine, and honestly, I’m not sure there’s a better way to discover Montmartre.
Just as impressive was the way Geoffrey navigated the neighborhood. While crowds gathered around the obvious photo stops, he seemed to know exactly when to pause, when to take a quieter side street, and where to stand so the stories unfolded without competing with the noise of the city. More than once I found myself wondering how many times I’d have walked right past these places without realizing the history hiding in plain sight.
One of our stops brought us to a small square where a bronze figure appeared to be caught halfway through a stone wall. Geoffrey introduced us to Le Passe-Muraille, a tribute to French writer Marcel Aymé, who lived nearby.
The sculpture brings to life Aymé’s famous short story Le Passe-Muraille (The Man Who Walked Through Walls), about an ordinary civil servant who unexpectedly discovers he can walk through solid walls. Like many classic French stories, what begins as an extraordinary gift doesn’t unfold quite the way you’d expect.
From where I stood, the illusion was remarkable. Depending on the angle, the man looked either hopelessly trapped or as though he was about to step free. It’s the kind of detail I probably would have admired, snapped a quick photo of, and kept walking. Hearing the story behind it made me stop a little longer, and that’s exactly what this tour kept encouraging us to do.
By now, the Paris sky had really begun hinting at rain. Normally I’d start mentally calculating how much time I had before reaching for an umbrella, but instead I found myself thinking about the final scene in Midnight in Paris. Gabrielle tells Gil, “Paris is the most beautiful in the rain.”
I wasn’t entirely convinced I wanted to put that theory to the test, but if the rain was going to find us anywhere, Montmartre seemed like the perfect place.
As we entered the Jardins Renoir at the Musée de Montmartre, I knew we were finally nearing the vineyard. Geoffrey had been unfolding Montmartre’s story one stop at a time, and by now I found myself appreciating that there hadn’t been any rush to get there. Each conversation, each hidden corner, and each piece of history had quietly prepared us for this part of the tour.
The Musée de Montmartre and its Renoir Gardens are worth lingering in all on their own. After all, when a garden inspired one of the world’s greatest Impressionist painters, it seems only fair to slow down and see what captured his attention.
Named for Pierre-Auguste Renoir, who lived and painted here between 1875 and 1877, the gardens have been carefully restored to reflect the landscape he immortalized in paintings such as The Swing and Dance at Le Moulin de la Galette. Fruit trees, flowering gardens, and winding paths surround some of Montmartre’s oldest buildings, making it surprisingly easy to imagine the neighborhood before tour groups, souvenir shops, and smartphones.
Wandering farther through the gardens, it’s easy to see how Montmartre has always had a way of attracting creative souls.
Then the path gently opened onto a stone terrace, the trees parted, and for the first time the view of Clos Montmartre.
The Clos Montmartre
It’s difficult to imagine now, with Paris stretching in every direction, but this hill was once covered with vineyards. Vines have grown here since at least the fourth century, when the Roman Emperor Julian kept a vineyard on these slopes. Long before Bordeaux or Burgundy became household names, Paris was one of France’s great wine-producing regions. In fact, the local wine industry became so important that King Louis XV eventually prohibited wine from being imported from more than seventy kilometers away to protect Parisian growers.
Like so many vineyards across Europe, Montmartre eventually faced changing times. Urban expansion slowly replaced vines with buildings, and the arrival of phylloxera in the late nineteenth century devastated what remained.
By the early 1900s, it looked as though Montmartre’s winemaking story had reached its final chapter.
Fortunately, a group of artists, neighbors, and determined locals had a different ending in mind.
In 1933, illustrator Francisque Poulbot joined members of the République de Montmartre to save this small parcel from becoming yet another housing development. Their solution was brilliantly simple. They planted a vineyard. French law offered protections for vineyard land, making development far more difficult. What might appear to be a picturesque little vineyard today was, in reality, an act of preservation disguised as winemaking. I have to admit, that’s one of my favorite wine stories yet.
Clos Montmartre may cover just 0.15 hectares, but its size tells only part of the story. Nearly 1,700 vines representing 27 grape varieties, both red and white, grow here. Many were gifts from wine regions across France and around the world, including Japan. Because the vineyard was planted before modern appellation rules took effect, it also preserves grape varieties that have largely disappeared elsewhere in France, making it as much a living collection of viticultural history as a working vineyard.
The first harvest took place in 1937, and nearly every vintage since has been picked by hand. More importantly, the vineyard has never existed simply to produce wine. Today, proceeds from the annual harvest continue to support charitable programs benefiting children and older residents of Montmartre.
Every October, the neighborhood celebrates the Fête des Vendanges, when parades, music, food, and the grape harvest transform the hill into one of Paris’ most beloved festivals. Only about 1,500 bottles are produced each year. By most wine standards, that isn’t much. By Montmartre standards, it’s more than enough to keep the story alive.
Looking across the vineyard that afternoon, the vines were heavy with grapes, protected beneath their coverings as they waited for harvest. Flowers spilled between the rows, the leaves were just beginning to hint at autumn, and beyond them rose rooftops instead of rolling wine country. It isn’t the largest vineyard I’ve visited, nor the most famous. Yet it may be one of the most unforgettable. Where else can you stand in the middle of Paris and find centuries of wine history quietly thriving behind a stone wall?
I’ll admit, I had hoped we might wander between the vines themselves, but because we visited in late September, the vineyard was closed to protect the ripening grapes before harvest. At first I was disappointed. But, that disappointment quickly faded. Seeing the vineyard from above somehow felt fitting. Afterall, it wasn’t a vineyard that was demanding attention. It was quietly holding its place in the middle of one of the world’s busiest cities, just as it has for generations.
A Final Toast at Chez Eugène
Every good wine walk deserves a good ending, and ours came just a few minutes later at Chez Eugène, a lively Montmartre bistro that has welcomed locals and visitors beneath its familiar red awnings for generations. Inside, the conversation picked up right where the walking tour left off, only now it unfolded around wine glasses and generous plates of French cheeses.
Geoffrey had thoughtfully chosen wines that reflected different corners of France rather than simply pouring wines from Paris. It was a wonderful reminder that while Montmartre may have introduced us to Paris’ wine story, France’s vineyards stretch far beyond the city limits.
Our tasting began with a beautifully textured Chenin Blanc from the Loire Valley, Domaine de la Grezille “La Seigneurie.” Bright acidity balanced ripe orchard fruit with subtle honeyed notes, a classic expression of one of France’s most versatile white grapes.
Paired with creamy French cheeses, it was the kind of combination that makes you stop talking for just a moment…and then immediately start talking about the wine.
Next came a lively Beaujolais-Lantignié from Fabien Forest, proof that Beaujolais deserves far more attention than it often receives.
Fresh red cherry, raspberry, delicate spice, and vibrant acidity made it both elegant and incredibly food-friendly. If someone still thinks Beaujolais begins and ends with Beaujolais Nouveau, this wine happily proves otherwise.
Then came the wine everyone had been waiting for.
The 2023 Clos Montmartre Cuvée Édith Piaf was poured into our glasses, connecting everything we’d spent the afternoon learning. Produced from the very vineyard we’d just admired, the wine is a field blend of the vineyard’s many grape varieties, crafted in small quantities each year.
No one would confuse it with a First Growth Bordeaux or Grand Cru Burgundy, nor should they. That’s never been the point. This bottle tells a story. Every sip carries a little piece of Montmartre’s history, its community, and the determination of the people who refused to let this tiny vineyard disappear.
Looking around the table, I realized the tasting had become something more than comparing aromas and flavors. We traded travel stories, favorite wine regions, and recommendations for places still waiting to be discovered. Strangers only a few hours earlier now felt like fellow travelers brought together by a shared curiosity. It reminded me that wine has always been about more than what’s in the glass. At its best, it brings people together.
As the afternoon came to a close, I couldn’t think of a better way to end my first visit to Montmartre. Geoffrey hadn’t simply shown us Paris’ last working vineyard. He had introduced us to the stories, artists, history, and people that continue to give this remarkable neighborhood its soul.
If you’re looking for a different way to experience Paris, one that trades crowded sightseeing for conversation, history, and a very good glass of wine, I can’t recommend Paris Wine Walks highly enough. Some tours show you the highlights. The best ones teach you how to see.
There are countless ways to spend a day in Paris. You can stand in line for famous landmarks, race from museum to museum, or fill your camera roll with places you’ve seen a hundred times before. Or you can spend an afternoon wandering the cobbled streets of Montmartre, discovering that one of the city’s most remarkable stories has been quietly growing on a hillside for centuries.
Websites & Resources
- Musée de Montmartre — Official site with history, exhibitions, and the Renoir Garden details.
- Paris Wine Walks — A guided tour that explores Montmartre’s vineyard and wine history in depth.
Thank you for wandering through Montmartre with me. I know this was a longer article, but some places deserve more than a quick list of things to do. I hope it inspires you to slow your pace, look beyond the obvious, and perhaps even discover a side of Paris you never knew existed.
Have you visited Clos Montmartre or taken a wine tour in Paris? I’d love to hear about your experience. If you have questions about the tour, the wines we tasted, or planning your own visit, leave a comment below. I always enjoy hearing from fellow travelers and wine lovers, and your recommendations often inspire my next adventure.
Until next time, cheers to slowing down, staying curious, and always leaving room for one more story.
About Elaine
Elaine is an international award-winning travel writer, wine writer, photographer, and WSET Level 3 wine professional who believes every destination has a story worth telling. Through Drink In Life, she explores wine, travel, gardens, books, food, and the quiet moments that make a life well lived.
All text and images © 2026 Drink In Life Blog & Drink In Nature Photography. All rights reserved
How One Conversation Became a Journey Back to Roero
One question. One word. A journey that wasn’t finished.
What do you bring home from a journey?
We all return with photographs, a few keepsakes tucked into a suitcase, and memories of places we couldn’t wait to see. Yet, given enough time, I’ve found it isn’t always those things that stay with me. More often, it’s a conversation I hadn’t expected to have, someone I met for only an afternoon, or a moment that seemed almost ordinary at the time but slowly grew more meaningful after I returned home.
As I began thinking about my return to Roero, I realized I wasn’t remembering a particular vineyard or even one of the beautiful villages scattered across the hillsides. Instead, I found myself back at a picnic table beneath the trees just outside Canale, where a simple question over lunch that quietly shaped the articles I would later write about Roero.
After spending the morning exploring Roero, we arrived to find a long picnic table waiting beneath the trees. It had been thoughtfully set with hand-painted plates, linen napkins, and fresh flowers. Before anyone took a seat, cameras came out.
As we lingered over lunch, we were joined by Francesca Iraldi from the Consorzio Tutela Roero, our hosts for this study trip. Francesca asked our group a simple question that, at the time, seemed like little more than a thoughtful way to end our meal.
“When you return home, what is the one thing you’ll take away from Roero? Just one word.”
The answers came quickly, as most around the table answered, “Biodynamic.” It wasn’t surprising. Throughout the week we had learned about the region’s deep commitment to farming with respect for the land, and it had become one of the defining themes of our visit. When it was my turn, another word found its way out before I had really thought about it.
Passion.
Looking back, I don’t think I was answering the question so much as describing the people we had met.
I saw it in conversations with winemakers who spoke about their vineyards with the same affection others reserve for family stories. I saw it in restaurant owners who wanted us to understand not only what was on the plate, but why it mattered.
I saw it in every person who welcomed us, not because they were trying to impress a group of visiting journalists, but because they genuinely cared about sharing their corner of Italy.
That answer stayed with me long after I returned home.
As I began writing about Roero, I found myself thinking back to that afternoon again and again. Of course, I wrote about the wines, the villages, and the beautiful landscapes, but I gradually realized those weren’t the stories that had stayed with me the longest. What lingered were the people behind those places, their generosity, and the quiet pride they carried with them every day.
Those became the stories I wanted to tell.
Several months later, an email arrived from Italy that caught me completely by surprise. The Associazione Premio Giornalistico del Roero had selected my series of articles for its journalism award and invited me to return to Roero for the award ceremony on July 24.
As I read through the details, I began to appreciate just how special the recognition was. The Premio Giornalistico del Roero is an annual award that honors journalists, photographers, and media organizations whose work helps tell the story of Roero to audiences in Italy and around the world. It celebrates reporting on the region’s wine, food, biodiversity, history, culture, and traditions. This year, I was honored to receive the Premio Giornalistico del Roero for my travel journalism about Roero, published here on Drink In Life. If you’d like to learn more about the award and explore my complete collection of Roero stories, you can visit my Recognitions page.
I was deeply honored, but there was one problem. The award ceremony was scheduled for July 24, just a few weeks before my son’s wedding. I’ll admit it, I spent more than a little time trying to convince myself I could somehow do both. I looked at flights, studied the calendar, and mentally rearranged the weeks more times than I care to admit. In the end, common sense finally won. With so much still to do before the wedding, my place was at home. I wrote back with sincere thanks, along with the disappointing news that I wouldn’t be able to attend.
Instead, they responded with the same warmth I had experienced throughout my visit to Roero. They invited me to come in the fall, spend a few days in Canale, and receive the award then.
Once again, the people I had written about reminded me exactly why I had answered “Passion” that afternoon beneath the trees.
My first thought wasn’t about the ceremony or even the award itself. It was about that lunch beneath the trees and the question Francesca had asked before leaving our table.
Perhaps that’s because, in many ways, the invitation felt like a continuation of the same conversation. I had traveled to Roero hoping to learn more about a remarkable wine region. I returned home carrying something far more valuable: an appreciation for the people who call it home. Those were the stories I wrote because those were the moments that stayed with me.
Now, in just a few weeks, we’ll be making our way back to Roero.
Before we go, there are still a few stories from that first journey I’d like to share. Over the coming weeks I’ll be revisiting my first visit to Roero, along with a few memories that never found their way onto the blog.
This time, I get to share Roero with my husband. Together we’ll discover places that are entirely new to both of us, but I’ll also finally get to show him a few of the places I couldn’t stop talking about after I returned home last year.
The last time I was there, I filled pages of my notebook. But one word stayed with me: Passion. It seems only fitting that it’s the word bringing me back.
Earlier Stories from Roero
If you’re new to my Roero series, or you’d like to revisit where this journey began before we head back to Italy, here are the articles that started it all:
Thank you for reading and for following along. Is there a place that has stayed with you long after you returned home? I’d love to hear about it in the comments.
About Elaine
Elaine is an international award-winning travel writer, wine writer, photographer, and WSET Level 3 wine professional who believes every destination has a story worth telling. Through Drink In Life, she explores wine, travel, gardens, books, food, and the quiet moments that make a life well lived.
All text and images © 2026 Drink In Life Blog & Drink In Nature Photography. All rights reserved
Welcome to Drink In Life. I’m Elaine Luxton, an international award-winning travel writer, photographer, and wine expert. Through stories of wine, food, culture, history, and travel, I explore the people and places that make every destination worth remembering. I’m glad you’re here.
WSET Level 3 with Merit
American Wine Expert
Oregon Wine Expert-Napa Valley Wine Academy
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