Chateau Malaudos

We're in the process of becoming registered as private winemakers (cave particuliere) which, amongst a ton of other things, involves a trip to the Customs Office. The chap who deals with us is a jolly bully and sends us away with homework on a regular basis. The most recent task was to measure every parcel of land, noting each grape variety to see how they compare with his records. They have us down as having three varieties in two large plots, where, in fact, we have  six varieties over three cadastral areas. No doubt we shall be in big trouble as that's what he threatens each time we visit. On the other hand, as the vines have been there for over 30 years, we can hardly be held culpable. I was dreading the measuring task as none of our plots is square, but rather in large curves as in an amphitheatre.

 

 

But my trusty iPhone came to the rescue. I found a fab application called AreaFinder - Land Area Calculator - which allowed me to measure all the separate parcels in half an hour, just by walking each perimeter and pressing a button at each turn. Amazingly our total land area figure agreed with those at the Customs Office. Thanks once again iPhone.
 

 

 

Two of our lovely volunteers, Peter & Linda, gave us a white flesh peach tree which I was finally able to plant this morning. It's been too cold and I was afraid the bitter winds would see it off, but two things made me think today would be a good day. Firstly, I spotted some early wild asparagus growing in the hedgerow yesterday, and then last night our favourite pipistrelle bat, Billy,  came out of hibernation and was wheeling about outside our window, full of the joys.

 

 

This week I'm off to the vineyard to dig over the potager ready for Spring planting and finish strimming all the Grenache and Carignan vines. I'll have extra company. Alfie the dog who lives at The Stone House B&B in Caux is coming for a short holiday. Our two will be thrilled to have their pal on a sleepover. I feel chaos looming.

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The temperatures at Chateau Malaudos are stifling at the moment. The vines aren't at their best either, having taken the most awful battering during last September's hail-filled tornado. I think they look weakened and they really have very little fruit hanging. We've also suffered a bit from oidium thanks to hot and wet weather during the Spring. So we're sort of cutting our losses this year. It's likely we'll have precious few grapes to take to the Cave Co-operative; we'll just keep the best and make our own wine.

 

As for last year's meagre drop of wine, it's still trying to complete its malolactic fermentation. The wine is pretty high alcohol and the cave also hadn't been used for wine-making for years, so the necessary bacteria just aren't there. We're waiting to see our proper wine-making friends tonight to ask them what to do next.

 

 

Meanwhile the mazet looks pretty much like the building in this lovely painting by Julian Merrow-Smith . The postcard sized artwork is currently up for auction. Have a llok back through his archives - there's some wonderful work.

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I've written before about the kindness of other winemakers and just how supportive they've been. Just the other day I received this e-mail, out of the blue, from our lovely friend Peter Core who makes delicious biodynamic wine at Mas Gabriel .

"Dear Lizzie

I hope all is well.  Just a quick note to say that performance bio keep warning about high risk for mildew, which we treat with copper.  We have only seen a couple of taches so far but I think it would be worthwhile to keep up the bouille bordelaise (sulphur and ½ dose of copper) for the moment.  I think you have a poudreuse and if so it would be good to put on some powdered sulphur in about two weeks time, as an extra treatment mid-way between your wet sprays, which you should be doing every 10 days.
 
We are still working flat out with the young vines, as well as tucking and de-budding all the rest, and worst of all trying to control the weeds.
 
If you have any problems in the vineyard don’t hesitate to call.

Peter"

Now isn't that the kindest thing? There they are, in the middle of their own vineyard stresses, and he bothers to write to us wine-making neonates who happen to have bought a view with vines strewn all over it. I suspect kind winemakers make agreeable wine and Peter and Deborah make very agreeable wine indeed. Karma. Here's the website again, just in case you would like to know more. Mas Gabriel Biodynamic and Organic Wine, Caux, Languedoc Roussillon

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I've been blithering on about the spraying for weeks now, but it's our biggest headache at this time of the year. Worse still, we chose this year to move to organic treatments, so timing is even more critical.

We should be treating every ten days in the current weather conditions, but therein lies the problem. There is barely a day when there isn't too much rain, or wind, or heat, or the threat of any of those three. So, in theory one needs a still, cool, dry part of the day when rain is not forecast. Simple. Except that we have to do breakfast for our B&B guests and see them on their way before we can start our vineyard day - by which time it is already too hot. So we're struggling.

We'd hoped to spray the day before yesterday, but we were too late and it was boiling. We tried again yesterday but torrential storms were forecast, and after a frustratingly dry day, the heavens opened overnight. So now the vines are completely soaked so we have to wait for them to dry a bit. The trailer's been loaded with Puffing Billy the sulfateuse for the past three days awaiting the moment. I suspect it will be tomorrow morning - poor Ali. It's her birthday and her worst present in the whole wide world would be to get up early.

 

 

 

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Warm weather + humidity after the spring rains = danger in the vineyards. Danger of grey or white mildew - and a host of other irritations that threaten our hail-enfeebled vines. So, that means we have to spray them. All. Individually. Each fortnight. And there are six thousand inconveniently placed on a hillside, so  we can't use a tractor. Enter Ali (and me too, but I take more photographs).

 

 

Last year our vines were pretty sick after four years of neglect before we bought them, so we were obliged to use chemical treatments to get them into good health. This year we have decided to use completely organic treatments to try to be as respectful to our environment as possible.

We trudge miles up and down the rows through a mist of copper sulphate which turns our silver jewellery black. (I'm sure the other old vigneron don't have that problem.)  Hence the nose mask and gloves. By the end of the day we are filthy.

 

 

Although you can see rather better in the next photo when the shoes and socks come off.

 

 

Regular readers will know that there is barely a week that passes without us buying another piece of equipment to make it even feasible to look after the land at Chateau Malaudos. Last week we bought this fab machine to cut the grass in the amphitheatre and orchard.

 

 

I'm lying of course. It doesn't look like that at all, because the one we bought is 13 years old and is a little faded. But it works and was cheap. Phew!

Well, it did work. Until I hit the same concealed tree stump twice. After eight hours solid mowing I was just doing that tiny bit extra when I wrecked the machine by bashing the skirt into the blades. Mercifully my pal Teddy came round with his huge mallet on the end of a long handle and whalloped it back into shape. So now it's perfect again. Or would be if I hadn't blunted the blades somewhat. By a stroke of (genius) luck, I had already ordered some new blades from an eBay shop in England - where they are a fraction of the french price. Now I just have to put it all together again and we're ready to roll tomorrow.

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After what seems like weeks of hopeless weather, sun each morning, rain each afternoon, the forecast is now good. Lots of sunshine for weeks on end. However, the soil is very humid, the air is warm and our young vines are bursting forth - leaves everywhere. This is one of the busiest times in the year in the vineyard.

With the combination of damp and warm the vines are at high risk from oidium and mildew. We treat the vines against these diseases each fortnight until mid-July. Last year we hoped to do this ourselves and bought a blisteringly expensive Stihl atomiser.

 

 

Empty it weighs a ton and when it has 12 litres of fluid and petrol in it becomes unliftable. I managed about two-thirds of the amphitheatre last year, before my lovely brother, Justin, came to my rescue. He works full time, so we then found Fred, the young muscle-covered son-in-law of our cleaner. Fred did hours and hours of work in our vines last summer, but we'd really like to do it ourselves. So we have a new addition.

She doesn't have a name yet, but she's definitely a she.

 

 

It's a brouette Solo 120 litre and she's about a thousand years old - or 16 at least. I bought another one during the winter, but when we went to use it it wouldn't work at all, so it's currently with M Papallardo in Beziers being put right. It's going to be a month 'til we get it back - there's a waiting list. So we bought another. It worked perfectly at the house of the guy I bought it from. But a 25 minute drive home broke the pump. Off to M Papallardo once more to buy a new one which, mercifully, he had in stock. But we'd forgotten the purse. So another hour and a long round trip, an unbelievably extortionate 220 euros later the tiny pump was ours.

 

 

I'm pleased as punch that I managed to fit it and change a split hose myself, and now it works. Beautifully. So this afternoon I'm off to the vineyards with nephew Josh. I'm going to chase the sprayer round the vines (it's frighteningly fast) and he's rotavating a soon-to-be grassy area near the reservoir.

On another subject, every single vigneron in the neighbourhood has been enormously supportive of our efforts to revive the long abandoned vines we bought. We've had lots of advice, offers of  equipment to borrow and much gentle hand-holding. So it came as something of a surprise to read this paragraph in the blog of an anglo-french couple living in Gabian . I won't translate - it looks a bit too bald in English. "Liz et Ali arrivent, les épaules un peu voûtées de leur nouvelles fonctions de vigneronnes. Ces satanées anglaises, pour parfaire le cliché, ont acheté une vigne, petite soite avec un nom ridicule et se lancent dans la production de vinaigre... euh de vin. C'est beau le rêve ! Après chambre d'hôtes puis "informaticienne", les voici vigneronnes d'un château Malaudos.."

'Nuff said.

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Well, the vineyard survived the second onslaught of hail yesterday.  The tender buds are still intact and the nascent grapes and apples get another chance at life.  What a relief. 

On Wednesday the paysagiste Michel Reboul turned up with his team to dig up the vines at the top of the amphitheatre.  This is the steepest part of our land and has always been a bit of a nightmare.  The only time we took the quad up there Lizzie had to hang off the uphill side of it like a windsurfer to stop it toppling down the hill.  (Please don't try this at home!) Many of the Cinsault vines there died when the vineyard was more or less abandoned and the rest have struggled ever since so it feels as if we've cleared out a dusty attic now they're gone.   

After two days of rain the soil was pretty damp and in perfect condition for pulling up vines apparently.    They were about 50 years old I guess and, like icebergs, most of the plant lives below the surface - some of the root systems went on for metres. 

 

 

The lovely Christophe was the artist behind the digger-levers which he manipulated like a master puppeteer, and his even lovelier assistant was our very own Josh who worked like a Trojan all day long lugging heavy vines up and down the hill and building them into a souche wall. 

 

 

We reckon there's enough firewood there to see us through next winter.

 

When they finished that they set to work filling in the road by the mazet parcelle, shoving a huge rock under Olive's foot and digging over the grassy bit near the reservoir which Lizzie wants to turn into a lawn.  The two of them got through the most incredible amount of work that day, "happy work" Josh called it.  He was pleased as punch to be working on his land and it was fantastic to see him in his professional role as apprentice landscape gardener.

 

 

The countryside is in full bloom right now, carpeted with irises, spring flowers and, here and there, tender shoots of wild asparagus.  It's so fine it's quite difficult to spot but it's worth the effort, the succulent tips taste like the freshest peas straight from the pod.  There are two sure-fire ways of finding it.  One is to suck up to any old boy you see clutching a bulging carrier bag and the other is to dog the footsteps of Kit who has become the world's greatest living Asparagus-Hound.  Quick as a flash she spots her quarry and before you can say "Ooh, wouldn't that be lovely roasted with some olive oil and rock salt" she's bitten off the tip, scoffed the lot and tuned her asparagus radar to a new bearing.  We're wondering if she might transfer this skill to truffle-hunting though holding her back after she'd got a taste for the "black gold" is a daunting, and expensive, notion.   

 

 

Meanwhile, here's a little something for Marianne.  Yes, sweetheart your spuds are on the move and lookin' good. As you can see, everything in the garden is just lovely.  

 

 

 

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Today was gloomy - not much in the way of sun, but I thought our volunteers might like to see how it's coming on. The figs are just appearing, the pear trees are loaded with tiny pears, the apples are in flower, the vines are bursting - particularly the whites and the potager is full of cabbages, broccoli and lettuce.

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I got back from Australia last week where I've been visiting my family.  If there's one thing that Lizzie is really good at (and there are many, many things she's ridiculously good at) it's organizing surprises.  There were two big ones waiting when I got home.  The first one was the bridge.  For anyone who knows us, this bridge has been in the "it's just about to be started" phase of construction for the last 4 years.  But finally, under Lizzie "the Mastermind" B-G's sweet supervision, Andy "The Welder-beast" Dixon and Teddy "Angle-grinder" Hutton pooled their resources and talents and came up with an airy, elegant curve of space-leaping, heart-swelling, simple steel that connects our old balcony at Le Couvent to the top garden.  It is a beauty.  Graceful, light as air and solid as a rock, the bridge soars way, way beyond my expectations.  My biggest thanks to the mighty trio and to everyone who has pondered, planned and contributed to this project over the years. 

Andy immediately found a name for it.  Because it flies over the chicken run he called it le pont des poules.  Which immediately turned into Pontypool.  Ah well, I suppose you can't have everything.  The name's going to stick, isn't it?  I can feel it in my bones.   

The second surprise involved a trip up to the vineyard.  When we got to the chain at the bottom of the path I said (well, shrieked is probably more like it) to Lizzie, "What is that white thing?  It looks like a caravan.  You've bought a, you've bought a caravan, haven't you?  Oh my God, you've bought a caravan."    It's not that I've got anything against caravans.  Actually, that's a lie.  I've never liked the idea of caravans at all, they seem hot and airless and rather mean.  Of course, I'd never actually been in one, so, obviously, I was speaking with an objective, if horribly bigoted, authority here.  Anyway, yes, so there it was, a big box sitting, oh so whitely, against the rippling, not at all white, prettiness of the olive and pine trees.  Lizzie turned the key and we climbed into a 70's beef stew and carrot interior.  Brown, cream and orange tartan, synthetic-tweed furnishings with contrasting blue lampshades, curtains and cushions.  And nets at the double-glazed windows.  Oh joy. 

 

It was instant head-over-heels love. 

For those of you fellow-travellers who burn to know these things, she is a Messager Mascotte 385, in her prime at only 25 years old.  We called her Olive and re-painted her the very next day in a new livery of olive green with a bauxite red stripe.  She nearly fades into the background now and we spent two happy nights in her, cooking on the gas-hob that transforms into a work-top and sleeping on the bed that transforms into a dining table in a Michelin-starred restaurant.

 

Lizzie assures me that somewhere or other here, there is a switch that transforms the entire caravan into a Porsche.  I believe her.  If only we could find that P-spot switch we might regain some street cred, or something.    In the meantime we're hoping that our rather cool candelabra does the talking for us while, oddly, we fight off painters-astrophysicists-writers-geologists-teachers-administrators-broadcasters-bankers-farmers-lovers-lawyers and teenagers, all of whom have volunteered to caravan-sit Olive through her first probationary weeks, even months, alone in the vineyard. Are we missing a trick here, I wonder?

Meanwhile back at Le Couvent we're well into the week's retreat for the Black and Asian Writer's Group.  Sponsored by Bloomberg and mentored by The Tricycle Theatre in London, this course is a treat for us too.  The house thrums with the energy of big brain-power as first, second and seventeenth drafts get written off and ideas get tossed around.  The chat is fabulous and it's a privilege to co-host such a fantastic and lovely group.

In other words, life's as awful as ever here.  What can I say?

PS.  Had you spotted that "I love" is actually an anagram of "Olive?"   Not a very challenging anagram I admit, but kind of cool, don't you think?

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 Wednesday 11th February is our rest day after two days working with a great team of people at Chateau Mal Au Dos, the soon to become world famous vineyards of the South of France.

Monday started with many journeys to the local tip to clear the piles of garden waste gathered by the team over the weekend. Next it was up to the Chateau Mal Au Dos for the first time this visit, armed with an assortment of gardening equipment ready for any task that was assigned. Our first task was to strim area between the vines clearing the way for a group to prune behind us. This was followed by lunch, a fantastic vegetable soup prepared by Debbie.

After lunch we were taken to a sloped area between two terraces where the idea was to construct some steps from one level to the other. With the help of Sharon we started to clear the area before making plans on how we could set the stairway, then to our surprise we found a very large stones, then another and another which continued until we go half way between the two levels.

 

 

So what seemed like a daunting task was a lovely job renovating someone's hard work from the past. After this it was back to Le Couvent to relax for the evening and enjoy the delightful supper prepaired by Jane & Marianne.

Following that first fun packed day we were ready to take on the next, however our day was nearly brought to a premature end by our friends at EDF Energy who had decided to start excavating across the main access to Chateau Mal Au Dos. Not to be thwarted by this, some quick thinking by advance party, Ali had found an alternative route in, so we were able to get our small convoy of equipment to a very eager team already assembled and waiting to galvanise into action. Which is what everyone did without hesitation.

There were teams armed with strimmer, chain saws, clippers, choppers, saws & a whole manner of implements dotted around the vineyard taking on all & any rough vegetation. Again, as Monday,  lunch was provided by Debbie - a wonderful blue cheese & broccolli soup. Following lunch we had a short spell of Southern France's liquid sunshine before getting back to work.

 

As we walked back to the area where we had been working, looking around you could see the whole place looking fresher and somehow more vibrant, this gave us a real sense of purpose and the drive to achieve even more through our stay. So back to the prickly bushes, brambles & overgrown vegetation for more outdoor entertainment.

 

 

As the afternoon drew to a close Lizzie called the team together. Once assembled Lizzie & Ali took us all on a tour of the vineyard. As we went around you could see the dramatic changes that everyone had contributed to, vines had been pruned, access between the vines had been manicured, walkways clear, drive ways made wider, hidden featrures revealed and areas covered in weed exposed ready for replanting.

 

After this it was time to make our way back to Le Couvent so we packed the equipment and headed of, only to find EDF had not completed their work resulting in one of the cars being stranded to wrong side of their excavations. No problem, we had a plan, advance party Ali would lead on the quad followed by Lizzie in the van, then 5 of us in the 4x4 with the stranded car bringing up the rear and we would go out the same way as we came in. The order in which we were travellling was important because the route out was not exactly straightforward  and involved negotiating a number of large hills and a mountain track (for want of a better description), which only the 4x4 & quad were designed for. Anyway just as we started our journey the skies opened and it lashed down more liquid sunshine, making the track a little challanging to say the least. Despite this we continued until we reached our first steep incline (loose mud, shale & one or two large rocks), three of the vehicles got past this ok the 4th, however, as not so lucky due to a very slippery surface. However, it only took support, encouragement and a bit of a push from the team in the other vehicles to get the 4th vehicle through as well. We plodded on and eventually got back on to a proper road surface, with all credit to the driver of that 4th vehicle, the all terraine Nissan Micra (We have excluded the names to protect their identity should anyone from Hertz read this blog).

Supper Tuesday evening was again delightful, this time prepared by Chris & Sue, which was followed by an evening in the TV room watching a  of Mama Mia, the karaoki version no less, which I  (Doug) confess was good fun but made even better by those there.  

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Last Friday night we were having dinner with our old chums Pierre and Giovanna in their exquisite house on the beach at Agde.  As we were leaving Pierre and Daniel looked up at the star-sequinned sky.  "See how clear the sky is?  It means it's going to be a perfect day tomorrow, just wait and see."

The next day France and Spain were hit by the biggest storm in decades.  One and a half million people without electricity, winds blowing at 150km/hr and 11 dead in Spain.  Our local boys' local knowledge was more or less on a par with Michael Fish and his non-hurricane.  Even more surprising though was that the horizontal rain of Saturday was replaced by a bright and cloudless day on Sunday.  Almost unbelievable that the weather could change quite so dramatically in 24 hours.  Best of all though, we'd planned a big working afternoon and a bbq in the vineyard and against the odds it happened.  So our huge thanks to Alex C, Alex Mac, Debbi, Jenny, Michelle, Josh, Poppy and Justin (better late than never) who pruned vines and olives, weeded, planted, chain-sawed wood and collected souches.  It was a fantastic afternoon.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We'd decided to move the bbq to the Convent in case the weather turned on us again.  It didn't but it was great to be back in the big kitchen tucking into a gigot of lamb, sausages, Lizzie's chilli roast potatoes and some fantastic salads. A special mention here for Michelle's excellent bakewell tart. 

 

 

 

Alex C had brought his dogs up to the vineyard in the afternoon and the five of them were circling each other like fish in an aquarium when they weren't dashing around and getting up to no good.  By pudding they were completely tuckered out.  We blame Josh for inviting them onto the otherwise forbidden sofa.

 

 

 

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For the last week we've been pruning up at Chateau Malaudos.  After a week of colds, flu and frosty winds after New Year, our noses and the skies cleared on about the 5th of January and it turned beautiful.  It's still quite chilly but when there's no wind and the sky is blue, it's T-shirt weather again.   We've been cutting up dead fruit trees and filling up the trailer with peach wood for the wood-burner at home. 

 

We decided this year that we'd take our time pruning the vines.  Now that we know how long it takes and we're just that bit more experienced, we know we can get it done in time, so why not take a moment longer and do it that little bit better?  Last year, knowing nothing but convinced that we'd definitely kill off these poor vines that had been struggling to survive without help or attention for three long years, we left lots of extra "just in case" buds.   We now know that a vine is much harder to kill than we ever suspected, and letting 29 sarments (the new "branches" which bear the grape bunches) grow when there should only be a maximum of 8, is actually a really bad idea.  So Lizzie and I and all our lovely chums - Alex, Erzsi, Nicola, Jenny, Debbi and the two Teds - who've been up to help are being resolute in our Less Is More campaign and pruning for quality and health.  Sounds rather like eugenics, doesn't it?  

So far all the muscat is pruned, all the grenache in the amphitheatre and Lizzie has pruned the syrah.  The syrah vines are the ones on wires and demand a completely different type of pruning to the rest of the vines which are all the old-fashioned "gobelet"  type ie. with one "arm"  at each corner.  The syrah vines sprout up from a horizontal branch and as they grow vertically are caught and held between wires.  We decided that if Lizzie pruned all these herself then we'd know who to blame.  Clever, eh?  

The whole mazet parcelle is now pruned and about two-thirds of the big amphitheatre so we're thrilled.  If the weather holds for another three weeks we'll be done.  Then there'll just be everything else left .  Yes!  We've also been planting roses up at the mazet.  Twenty seven have been coaxed into place, many of them in honour of mates this Christmas.

 

Most days we've taken a bit of lunch up to keep up our spirits and energy and taunt the dogs with.  It occurred to me yesterday as I was wandering up to the van (chuck-wagon) with new pruning chum Debbi that we looked just like three old blokes (sorry, Debs) sitting outside their sheds with a packet of sandwiches and a Thermos of nice, hot tea.  Debbi did point out that in fact we were eating quiche aux poireaux, tarte au thon and macaroons.  She also spotted that the Thermos wasn't tartan, but you get the idea.   

On Monday Lizzie and I finally plucked up the courage to take a sample of wine to the oenologue in Pezenas.  An oenologue is the wine-expert who explains what's happening to your wine chemically.  Oenologues are therefore very important and also rather daunting.  We had no idea what would be demanded of us - a declaration from Customs perhaps, or documentation that we had a degree in wine-making, or maybe proof that we owned a vineyard.  In France, the land of red tape, you come to expect the unlikely and the worst when it comes to paperwork.   So we crept into the wine-lab and were greeted by a charming lady in specs.  "No problem," she said with a dazzling smile when we asked her if she could test our sample to see if it had done it's malolactic fermentation, "but I'll test for volatile acids too.  If they're bad then the fermentation is beside the point.  I'll e-mail you shall I?"  We love this charming woman who didn't make us feel small or stupid or paperworkingly challenged. 

Now you could argue that when it comes to humans it's no bad thing to be a bit on the volatile side.  Spice of life and all that and nothing's more boring, surely, than being unvolatile or, worse still, completely inert.  When it comes to wine though, volatile is BAD.  It means your wine is turning into the "v"-word (as in salt and v crisps) which like "The Scottish Play" and The Bad Wizard in Harry Potter is the name that cannot be spoken out loud.  Anyway after 36 hours on tenterhooks, the report arrived.  Our "malo" is 20% done, but best of all, our volatile acids are excellent and all our wine-making chums are thrilled and amazed.  "How did you manage to keep it so low?" asked lovely Simon from Domaine des Trinites.  Well, Lizzie scrubbed out the cuves by hand and Justin has kept the seal pumped up and ... well, we're thrilled. 

 

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We've finished areas 4 & 5 and are due to start at the very top of the hill on area 1 next. That's the prize Grenache, every bit of which we lost to the storm. Next year is going to be magnificent. I feel it in my bones. We're going to have superb grapes of deep and luscious flavour to make the 2009 vintage an extra special one.

 

 

 

Having finished the top Syrah we're delighted with how it all looks. (These are yours, Sarah & Andrew) We did the last pruning and clearing at the end of last week. It was a freezing day and the wind blew so hard we spent five hours fighting with it. A real cold headachy kind of a day. But it's done and they look swell.

 

 

 

Less can be said of Ali. Back in the days when she was a person-on-the-telly she wore Armani, Jean Paul Gaultier and  the like. Her old pals would be hard pressed to recognise her now, but here she is - in her gnome-pruner gear - healthier, shinier, fitter and a non-smoking winemaker. Who'd have thought it?

Those old habits die hard, though, and one passion that remains is her love of cashmere. Not any old cheap stuff you understand, but the delicious touch-me touch-me of  high end 100% cashmere knitwear. So now she's selling wonderful TSE, Ralph Lauren and Elie Tahari sweaters, amongst others. Yesterday she had a stall at the magnificent Chateau de Cassan Christmas Fair where she sold lots of beautiful cashmeres to lucky visitors. Have a look at her new website .

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This one's for my brother who says he would go and prune vines or do other jobs at Chateau Mal Au Dos, but that he doesn't know the plan. So here's the plan. We're in the middle of pruning Area 4 and there's all the rest to do! Clear enough?

Seriously though, the pruning, though slow, is very promising.  The basic work we did last year in trying to restructure the vines has really paid off. Now we can form the vines so that they produce the grapes of much better quality than before.

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We've come full circle. This time last year we had yet to finalise buying the land and  vines, but the then owner, M. Gineste,  let us start the pruning. Today I began again, but this time I have much more idea about how the vines actually grow, and how the pruning affects the end result.

So today I began making next year's wine. For the care taken now whilst pruning will do more to more to influence the final product than anything else we do during the course of the year. If we get it right now we have a chance of having strong healthy vines on which will grow heavy bunches of concentrated fruit. Get it wrong and we will have straggly weak vines producing hundreds of tiny bunches of, primarily, skin.

To be frank, last year we really didn't know what we were doing at all, but this time, after a year of watching the vines like hawks, we have a much better idea. So now we plan to do things differently. We've decided which vines we want to keep and which will go. Some are very weak, and others are on such a sharp slope that we haven't a chance of looking after them properly. So those will be grubbed up when we've found someone who can help us with the task. That should leave us with around 5000 grenache, syrah, cinsault, carignan and muscat petit grain.

This is a tiny number of vines by any normal standard, but we have a B&B to run all summer so our time is limited then. However, in winter we have lots of time to concentrate on all the physical work like pruning and land-clearing. We also have lots of volunteers coming in February to help us with some interesting projects in the vineyards, so it'd be great if we could get all the pruning done by then.

At the moment they look like this:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and we need them to be as tidy as this:

 

But they go on way beyond where you can see in this photo - and that doesn't include the other 2500 in the amphitheatre.

 

I had a wonderful time in the sunshine today, pruning, picking up the offcuts (les sarments) and burning them, then brushcutting between the vines to finish the job. That's just two rows, but it's a start.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If you're in the area and fancy helping just give us a call on 04 67 24 64 37

The wild boar (les sangliers) are still up to their tricks. There are long and deep areas where the sangliers have ploughed up the ground. We're just praying they're not doing too much damage.

 

 

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