by Caspar Bowes

The little Dash 8 jolly-plane that had conveyed us from Southampton airport dropped through lumpen, bumpy clouds into Bergerac a little before 5pm yesterday. By the time we had picked up the hire car and driven to St Emilion it had started to rain in earnest. There are many more tastings this year t…

Above a panning shot taken from the ruined castle of Châteauneuf-du-Pape, the shaking of the camera not the result of Grenache withdrawal, rather the instability caused to anything larger than a medium-small invertebrate by the mistral, that muscular wind that is funnelled through the narrow g…

Two green rabbits, one saying to the other, "Have they gone? Is it safe to come out?"We drove into Avignon last evening for a beer with an old work mate of mine who is now in the pay of the UK's Chateau de Beaucastel importer. On the edge of town, in skies brightly illuminated by a sunset of orange …

The mono-rail that lifted us up to the heights of Le Combard terraces of Cote-RotieWe arrived in Beaune at 19h15 or so last evening after a drive that included an irritating betrayal by my SatNav. Some distance south of Calais I remarked to Tasting Buddy that I thought our present route was taking…

Somewhere in the Côte d'Or, October 2010It's tasting season in the UK at the moment: a great time of year to rail against the injustices propagated by these events, none more so than the myriad primeur burgundy tastings. It becomes increasingly evident that clear and proper evaluation cannot …