Lots of very late nights, quite a lot of bottles being finished here, there and everywhere. Possibly a few too many packs of marlborough being purchased. Generally having a good go at creating an internal environment utterly at odds with that consistent with a healthy mind and body.
This comes along with not having taken any real time off since January, and a series of really busy months, where despite having given a degree of thought to my future career, I've really done little other than bounce from one day to another and worry that I've not done any laundry....
So it was with a heavy pair of eyelids that I dragged myself to the 1234 Shoreditch festival, future rock and roll (which seems inordinately influenced by the early 80's C60 indie scene, but hey) and electronica. And you know what, after I got over the hipster nonchalance that hung heavy on the site I had a great time. Topping off the day with Optimo DJ's at the Dalston Superstore, left me feeling far to cool for school, and oddly ready to have a nice quiet week or so.
I'm being taken on a buying trip to Champagne at the beginning of September so it would be nice if my palette was a touch sharper by then, and following that I'm contemplating visiting Hong Kong to scout around for work etc, so likewise if my general levels of health and sleep were raised a bit it'd probably not do me too much harm.
On a sadder note, it's always a bit sad when a bottle is corked or otherwise spoilt. Doubly so when one feels that it could have been avoided.
Jardins Esmereldins, vdp de France 2001. Only recently bottled, having sat solemnly in barrique somewhere in the Loire for the best part of a decade. Tasted several months back it was revelatory, complex, vibrant, evading easy description the way that the best wines do. This morning, the wax seal had broken and the cork was half extruded. As it was a non sulphured wine I assume the worst, and wasn't wrong, the gentle prickle of a re-fermenting wine accompanied the slight tang of unwelcome oxidation. Don't get me wrong its still a lovely wine, just not quite the wine it once was..
I'm hoping there isn't a metaphor here.
1 comment:
Nope. Metaphores come in longer pickle jars, most of the time from greece, spain and italy. I have a nice box of them in the fridge, well marinated...
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