The flight was easy. I got to the airport early and grabbed a beer and a bowl of nuts. The endless refurbishment of Stansted seems complete, and the departures lounge is now perfectly designed to extract as much money from passengers as humanly possible before they get on the plane.
I landed and we went straight to the winery to rack some settled Muscat. Then we went to the pub. Collioure seemed unchanged, bathed in late summer sun.
Andy and I stayed up too late drinking whisky and my alarm jolted me at 545 this morning. Kirsten is on the wagon for September. I was almost jealous of her.
Macabeu is today's grape and there's a lot of it coming in. We'll do four presses or so. Back to work.
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