Oh nine

For the third year on the trot I feel cheated of a Summer. Yes, we had a nice June, and September has been sunny so far, but does Summer exist anymore? Not in England. It’s to do with the moon: we’ve had thirteen this year (and last year, and the year before). We’re back to twelve next year, so there is hope.

In France the story has been different. In Burgundy the harvest is more or less done and dusted, and people are talking of another 1999 (big crop, cracking wines, a real “terroir” vintage”). Good show, I say.

The Bordelais are not quite finished yet: the fat lady is warming up, not singing, but things again look very good. The word of the 2009 campaign will be “diurnal”. Hot days, cool nights. It means ripeness (hot days) and balancing acidity (cool nights). It means good wines, and it has a ring to it. I’m already looking forward to tasting the wines next April and, maybe even more, I’m looking forward to selling them in May and June.

The cynics are already moaning. High prices, the Bordeaux brand machine, speculators pushing prices, etc, etc. Greedy salesmen, merchants, negociants, properties.

I say yar boo sucks to the cynics. Another good vintage means more good wine. More pleasure. And there is not enough of it, as any fule kno.

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