Erm, not really a harvest story, but more one of my stupid anecdotes – perhaps I’m just getting tired and delirious.

I may have mentioned at some point that our cellar is built on three levels. Grape reception at the top, presses in the middle and tank room (and laboratory) at the bottom.

Somehow my planning must have gone wrong, but I think that during the harvest my own job entails rushing up and down the stairs probably more than anyone else in the building (which I suppose is quite natural when you want to keep an eye on everything).

Yesterday evening, in a moment of mental and physical exhaustion, I actually counted the steps between the top and bottom levels……

Now I don’t know if Angela’s father was an Alfred Hitchcock fan, or if it arrived completely by accident, but we quite literally have
The 39 Steps!