These three words: wine, ice hockey and Zuccarello have a significance and impact on our life in the vineyard.
The red grapes have finished their fermentation. They are pressed and let to rest in vats. The white wine is almost there.
Thirsty and hungry wild boar have entered our vineyard. Here you can see what it looks like when wild boars eat grapes.
Grapes dried up like raisins several weeks before harvest, crushed grapes after hail and grapes eaten by thirsty wild boar.
I am a wine tourist in Italy. I am in Franciacorta, the largest wine district in Italy making sparkling wine in the champagne method.
Happiness fills me during the local wine competition.
They are tiny and unprotected, every little flower on the vines. Correct weather is now of outmost importance for pollination to take place so there will be grapes and wine.
It will still be a while before our wine is reality this year. The vines are late bloomers. They do not dare to declare spring and the start of a new season yet.
I am excited and a bit nervous. At the same time, I look forward to what’s ahead of me. I am taking an exam in wine.
Wine and a vineyard in Italy in a warm springsun is tempting. This time I am here be myself for a week. It is the first time. It is secluded. Far away from the village.