When you pick grapes by hand, you have to watch out for the secateurs, and you’ll probably end up with a plaster or two on your left thumb anyway. They’re kept sharp, and they get covered in sugary sap from the vines and the grapes, so a cut to your skin can be a fiddle … More Le Corbières – or, What the mountains taught me, Part 2 of 4 ‘On picking grapes by hand’

[The stories and situations written here record my memories of real events at a particular place and time. All of the names have been altered (or likely misremembered anyway) and no recorded conversations are intended to reflect verbatim what was really said.] Sitting here with the rain pitter-pattering against the window, drumming on slate roofs … More Le Corbières – or, What the mountains taught me, Part 1 of 4 ‘The customary French greeting’