There was an amazing night last week. It was filled with the incredible tension that comes from when it should be pouring but somehow never does. The threat, and the wind, keeps everyone indoors, those who venture out get the city to themselves. It's the best time to walk.
What goes up must come down. All buoyed up and back in the flat I'm heading for a crash. One I've adored since first meeting is about to let me down terribly...
Of course, it's all my fault. Convinced I know something I don't, and that macs can do no wrong, I dive in. Trying to fix a glitch with email I manage to delete everything on the hard drive and can't find anything on the back up. What follows is shock and I'm not prepared for it. A week spent coming to terms with my own stupidity and thick headedness.
Salvation came from a very nice man in work. He pressed the right buttons and found what was missing. Which was everything. I had no idea a computer could become this precious. It's wrong. To help pull me out of the abyss I cracked open my last bottle of Condrieu.
Years ago a famous wine writer said Condrieu was best drunk young from a jug in the regions cafes. He described it as a heady mix of mountain streams and wild flowers but said it didn't travel. Back then the appellation was dying out and the grape it's made from, Viognier, was almost extinct. How times change. This wine even spent time in oak. Gorgeous stuff, but beneath its now serious structure was a haunting reminder, a whisper of youthful exuberance, of what it was like before going inside that dark place.... the barrel that is.
Les Vins De Vienne
Bought from Tesco two weeks ago. Reduced from £24 to £11.50 a bottle.