Back to work

Last year it was one of our favourite markets of the year - the Cucuron Christmas market. It took place on a crisp clear Provencal day - the type of day that makes the locals sigh and tell you that the Luberon is a corner of paradise.

What a difference a year makes. I was up at 7 listening to the rain rattling against the skylight. The wind was bending the trees at right angles and the last thing I felt like was going back to work. Still I had a cave full of wine to sell and I have to keep Elodie in baby grows.

12 months ago when we arrived for the market we were greeted with a free croissant, a smile and a Santa Hat. This year the organiser just told me to set up wherever I wanted - he had other problems - the day’s entertainers had cried off due to flooding (apparently giant inflatable sumo wrestlers are scared of the odd puddle) and the poster proudly claiming that there would be over 50 artisan stalls was looking wildly optimistic. For the first hour there was just me and my neighbours - a group of women serving a garlic and chick pea mash.

By late afternoon I was soaking wet and dreaming of the summer. I’d invested 50 euros in my stand and sold just ten bottles of wine. For a nation of proclaimed wine lovers the French are strangely reticent when it comes to a free tasting - “I don’t drink,” “it’s too early,” “I’ve got to drive.” Every excuse under the sun/wind swept, bitterly cold, slate grey sky was paraded in front of us, until we offered them our special Christmas treat . We mixed some Stone’s ginger wine, brought over by my father in law and some whisky and the French were instantly enamoured with their whisky macs, asking to order cases of the Ginger wine. The problem was we only had one bottle.

Makes me think that in 2008 instead of taking coals to Newcastle and trying to sell wine to the French I might change business and have a stall full of cheddar cheese, ginger wine, earl grey tea and maybe some rosé from an English vineyard.

Wish me luck….