The street alone on which we stayed boasted some lovely front doors, mostly single leaf but each different from the next. There were rustic old ones and seemingly newer ones in fresh coats of paint. ¡Bienvenue! they seemed to say as we drove into the city from the airport. And as we drove out of town at the end of our trip, the doors made a final impression on me too, growing fewer and fewer, the farther out we got, indicating that we had left Bordeaux and all its charms.
But no goodbyes. When in France, exit as the French do.
Various doors from all over Bordeaux.