Wednesday June 9
Well here we go: signed, sealed and delivered by Madame the President of Occitanie herself: Dédicace, our Chenin blanc has been selected as one of the 100 best wines of the region by an elite jury of British wine writers, importers and merchants.
And that is not to be sneezed at: Occitanie covers all of Languedoc, Roussillon, and the Midi Pyrenees.
It goes on a roadshow with the 100-wine strong delegation throughout Britain, starting with last month’s London Wine Fair
Monday 14 June
Blistering heat, absolutely intolerable. Even at home, but down here in the lowlands of the Languedoc, it’s a furnace. The Vinifilles are hosting a wine tasting in Montagnac, at the lovely Croix Gratiot, the first time we have all been together in about a year and a half. It feels very strange and somewhat unnatural; we hover between an air kiss, a hug, or an elbow bump. It is absolutely wonderful to see them all again.
And again I am reminded what an amazingly funny, dynamic, supportive, larger than life, and incredibly competent group of wine women this is. And I love them to bits.
This is the first wine tasting for professionals I’ve done since … well … since Prowein last March. No, hang on, that was cancelled … since Prowein 2019. How is it possible?
With usual panache, tables and chairs are arranged, food is wheeled in, ice is distributed, table clothes thrown over tables, and voila! We’re ready to receive the crowd!
And they come in a steady flow: sommeliers, restaurateurs, wine shops. It’s not long before the smiles are wide and there are no masks in sight. For a brief moment you wonder about the advisability of that – but no one has yet shown me how to taste wine with a mask on. By the end of the day, everything seems almost to be back to normal. In as much as one can remember what ‘normal’ was really like.
Thursday 17 June
60 ml of rain fell in a space of about 25 minutes this evening. Just like that. As if a high-pressure shower had been switched on over our heads. VROOM! Small avalanches here and there, blocked roads here and there, a river running through the tasting room and a small but effective leak in the tank cellar. Otherwise we’re pretty much high and dry. Tomorrow will tell what state the vines are in.
Sunday 20 June
It’s only now we realise lucky we were, though we didn’t get off Scott free. There’s a slight showing of hail damage towards the top of the vineyard, but nothing dramatic. What’s worse is, there’s a real danger of mildew setting in now, as the weather turns hot and sultry, and is forecast to become even more so..
But for others this turned into a nightmare weekend.
From Saint-Chinian, the storm crossed the Hérault and the Gard throwing hailstones here and there.
A few hours later it visited the Drôme, the Ardèche, and the Côtes du Rhône with winds of more than 100 km/h, tornados, heavy rain and more hail. The storm then worked its way up to Burgundy, before finally exhausting itself to a standstill in Alsace.
So we were lucky. But that mildew could be a real problem. There’s no really effective organic treatment against it.
Saturday 26 June
We had our first holiday in two years, and go to the great Abroad. We’re really out of practice but manage to get ourselves with passports, tickets, passenger locator forms, Covid vaccination documents, PCR test results and baggage to Barcelona airport, niftily leaving the car in the Airport Hotel’s parking lot for the return trip. home
Arrive in Dublin, rent a car, cruise through Ireland’s green and lush countryside down to West Cork, there to isolate ourselves for five of the seven days we are spending in that country. The weather is beautiful : blue skies, blue seas, and we congratulate ourselves on how easy it has all been.
Released from our splendid isolation by an Irish Health PCR negative test, only to discover that it is not valid for travel. No wonder, it just says Caryl has tested negative, and so has Jan. No surname, no date of birth, no address no nothing. No proof of person, in effect. So the next day, our first and last un-isolated day in the country, we drive 1.5 hours to Cork city and 1.5 hours back again to have another PCR test at a private clinic. We explain we’re leaving the next day.
“No guarantee you’ll get the results in time” the receptionist says cheerfully.
At the crack of dawn the following morning, we follow the rising sun to Shannon airport. On the way, the PCR test result comes through. Whew! Things are looking up. At the airport everyone bowls us over with effusions of joy. “Welcome back!” they beam , “so lovely to see you again!”. “We are so happy to have you with us!”
Again we congratulate ourselves on how easy it all actually is. And what lovable, friendly places international airports actually are.
“No please sit down, I’ll warm up these scones for you and find some nice cream somewhere. Don’t you worry, we’ll bring it over. We’re delighted to have you here!” They all beam beamishly at us.
But even so, there is something very unnerving about a completely empty international airport.
There’s something very unneverving about a plane with only seven couples on it.
And there’s something totally unnerving about arriving at an airport you don’t recognize.
Yup. We had left from Barcelona, but we were returned to Tarragona. A 1.5 hour 170 € taxi drive away from the Barcelona Airport Hotel, where we had so cleverly left the car.
At least we could congratulate ourselves on the fact that there was one single taxi , and it was prepared to take us there.
To be cont’d next month…./