Vintage 2022

 Last year this time we went to a village high up in the mountains to pick up family wine. The small village is nestled (hanging more likely) on the side of a cliff and the roads are unbelievably narrow and steep, corners so sharp they're  almost un-negotiable.  I vowed I'd never go back there. But guess what. K likes the wine and he likes having 300 litres of it in his shed.

I reluctantly agreed to keep him company on the trip this year. I hope it's the last time. 

Way out there on the horizon is the gulf of Korinth

A village street. The gradient must be 10%, no warning sign though like they have on more important roads. Try coming down here in an old-ish car carrying an extra 300 kilos!

Let the casks be filled. This year we are taking the wine in 20 litre bladders/bags/sacs. I don't know what they're called in English. K says  the wine will stay in a better condition. Last year we transported it in 50 litre plastic containers and then transferred it into barrels when we arrived 

It's transferred from the cousin's barrels to the sac scoup by scoup

Rosé or Pozé as our kiwi visitors called it after seeing it written in Greek 

100 litres of white and 200 of rosé.  The wine at the bottom of the barrel is a little cloudy and has to be left to settle before we drink it.

Filling up the boot, and the back seat

Thank goodness we had help when we got home.

Some of the little elves.

It was a long day. It took almost 3 hours to get there and more on the return. We stopped at Korinth for souvlaki. There's a little shop there which has the best souvlaki we've eaten. It does a roaring trade with locals, truck drivers, travellers like us. The shop is a hole in the wall with half a dozen tables and a queue for takeaways. And cheap too

An exceptional product with a good price tag doesn't need trumpets and pretentious decor.   Word spreads, trumpeted by satisfied customers.

That goes for K's wine too, he says