She danced, twirling in a daze. Her short chiffon skirt trying to keep up with the energy of her movements as she pirouetted and flew into a perfectly timed jete. She was used to the crowds, the uproarious clapping, and the flashes from cameras, but today it was silent. Today was a day of practice,…
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Lola walked along the shoreline, the ferry in the distance had left the dock about 20 minutes before. She had said her goodbyes and headed back to the cottage with plans to sit in the sunshine with a glass of wine and a good book. This would be the salve this afternoon. Goodbyes are always…
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Imagine riding a bicycle through the miles and miles of vineyards in Chile. You may find yourself in the Colchagua Valley, a wine sub region in central Chile. The bicycle on the label brought great visions of a gentle excursion. A long stick of bread, some Chanco (Chilean cheese) and a bottle of Cono Sur’s…
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The Mercedes moves deftly, silently alongside the Garonne River. Claude rolls down the window that separates driver and passenger and asks if I would like another glass of wine. I’d like to, but I just reapplied my red velvet lipstick, the colour of the sensual residue in my glass. And with a tilt of my…
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Imagine walking through a vineyard in Alentejo. Imagine the breeze gently rustling the vines, green and full as they grow in the Portugese sunshine. Rows upon rows of vineyards drinking in the sun and the softness of the summer breeze. In the distance the winemaker checks the grapes, are they ready? He wonders to himself.…
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Abilio pulled the leaves off the vine giving the grapes space to breathe. He checked each cluster with a precise eye, imagining the wine that would come of his labour. His hands, dirty and dark from digging at the dirt, checking the root stocks, and testing the grapes between his fingers, waved excitedly as he…
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