Marchbanks
Hat and Beard member
More rumblings from the Rosé Liberation Front.
Two old gits who hadn’t seen each other in years found an excuse to meet up for a day out today. After a stroll round Goodrich Castle, phase 2 took the form of a picnic on the riverbank at Ross-on-Wye. Here is the scene of gentle devastation after an hour or so.
My friend said he wasn’t drinking so much these days (shooting me a meaningful glance) and would limit himself to one small glass. Mentally I punched the air, but it turned out his will collapsed when presented with an excellent bottle of Tavel. Château de Ségriès 2019 if the picture isn’t good enough to show. Quite soft and floral - with almost a touch of sweetness - to start with, then a bit of a whack to follow up. The first Tavel I’ve tasted, and definitely came up to expectation. Perfect accompaniment for French and Welsh cheeses, Uncle Marchbanks’ Olde Original Sourdough Loaf and discussing Old Git subjects (why Young People are incomprehensible, where to buy the comfiest slippers, at which album Yes and Joni Mitchell lost the plot, etc.)
Phase 3 was a stroll around Ross. A pleasant little town, and I showed great restraint by not throwing up when I saw a cushion in a shop window emblazoned with the homily ‘A family tree starts with two golden hearts.’
Two old gits who hadn’t seen each other in years found an excuse to meet up for a day out today. After a stroll round Goodrich Castle, phase 2 took the form of a picnic on the riverbank at Ross-on-Wye. Here is the scene of gentle devastation after an hour or so.
My friend said he wasn’t drinking so much these days (shooting me a meaningful glance) and would limit himself to one small glass. Mentally I punched the air, but it turned out his will collapsed when presented with an excellent bottle of Tavel. Château de Ségriès 2019 if the picture isn’t good enough to show. Quite soft and floral - with almost a touch of sweetness - to start with, then a bit of a whack to follow up. The first Tavel I’ve tasted, and definitely came up to expectation. Perfect accompaniment for French and Welsh cheeses, Uncle Marchbanks’ Olde Original Sourdough Loaf and discussing Old Git subjects (why Young People are incomprehensible, where to buy the comfiest slippers, at which album Yes and Joni Mitchell lost the plot, etc.)
Phase 3 was a stroll around Ross. A pleasant little town, and I showed great restraint by not throwing up when I saw a cushion in a shop window emblazoned with the homily ‘A family tree starts with two golden hearts.’
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