Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
growing season. Once the winegrower has cut the canes they don't fall to the ground since
the vine has attached itself to the trellising during the growing season using little tendrils.
The tendrils that looked so delicate holding the canes onto the trellis in summer became
hard and tough as wire in the winter. Pulling the canes off the trellising was tough and
sometimes dangerous work as the canes could whip back unexpectedly. Protective eye gear
was obligatory.
With the pressure of spring's arrival mounting I asked our neighbour, Sonia, to look after
Ellie so I could help. Sonia had a son named Alane of a similar age to Ellie and a daughter
of a similar age to Sophia, plus she had trained to look after young children. Sonia and her
husband Fred's house was the nearest of the new houses on the road that took us into the
village, a mere hundred metres away. We could not have wished for a more ideal neigh-
bour. Ellie was two months away from her first birthday. The outing to Sonia would give
her some light relief from her usual entertainment of watching me roll paint or sand old
wood windows.
Donning goggles, winter rain gear and large rubber boots, I waddled out like the Michelin
man. After two rows I was exhausted.
'Get on with it or we'll never finish in time!' Sean snapped. He was focused. I never
wanted to do vineyard work and now I was out there, an unwilling helping hand.
Cécile, our vineyard advisor, inspected Sean's pruning, pronounced it
'très bonne'
, and
wanted to know where he had done his training. Sean nearly kissed her. He didn't own up
to being largely self-taught on two vines in our back garden. I felt bad about my unwilling
attitude. Sean was facing the real transformation, responsible for growing our livelihood,
learning new skills in a language he was only starting to grasp. Seeing the look on his face
at Cécile's compliment, I felt a deep empathy for him and realised his rough attitude since
we arrived was partly due to this subtle but intense stress.
CécileconvincedSeantosignupforatwo-daycourseshewasrunningonmanagingvine-
yard pests and diseases. At the last minute he decided he wasn't confident enough in his
French and asked me to go. I walked into the training room several minutes late after drop-
ping Sophia at school.
'Please give me a brief introduction: your name, the size of your vineyard, how long you
have been installed and your viticultural experience,' said Cécile. My heartbeat pounded in
my cranium. I hate group introductions and in a room full of local farmers, I felt totally out
of my depth.
'Nicolas Demetier, seventy-five acres in Monbazillac, installed since birth, fourth genera-
tion
viticulteur
,' said the first.
I withered into my seat as the rest of the men followed in a similar vein. My turn, the last,
came around too fast.
'Caro Feely, twenty-five acres in Saussignac. My husband has been installed since
September,' I said, feeling the lack of several generations of vineyard knowledge.
