… by my La Clarière vineyards, enjoying a glorious sunset and a beer. Just arrived. I'd normally mention the feeling of peace at getting here after another year. Except, clearly, the neighbour's boy has been given a trumpet. The noises might please a passing whale but don't promise quite such a peaceful summer this year.
However this is me back in French mode. For 46 years I have mutated into a Frenchie every summer. Zut alors! Oui, I can feel it embrassing moi.
Flying just now over the Bordeaux suburbs - unusual approach due to tarmacing the runways - got the unique sight of lots and lots of little villas - the sprawling suburbs - then suddenly, like, as it were, in the middle of Surbiton or Ruislip … this huge, immaculate vineyard and Chateau. Haut-Brion!
Bordeaux is special.
Somebody has taken the trumpet off the kid. Now it’s a cap-gun. But that's quite bearable. And over. It’s bedtime. I can hear St Etienne bell sounding 10pm in the west. Now St Magne … east . Now St Genes I think … north. Ste Colombe church doesn't have a clock. Being only about 50 feet away I'm glad of that.
Another beer, then bed. Not holidays yet. Tomorrow I've 'un staff'; 40 of our glorious young crowd to collect and show round the vineyards, banging in viticultural facts before the wine gets too far into them.
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