One lost, one found: introducing bike number 17, a Ducati Hyperstrada 821

The now stolen KTM during a mountain ride in Corsica, last August

This summer, on the way back from a week-long bike tour that included southern Corsica (which was great by the way), we awoke early in our hotel in Toulon, having gotten off the ferry around midnight, to find that my KTM Duke was no longer attached to its pole in the bike park outside our hotel. Travelers be warned : Toulon (and probably Marseille as well) are definitely not safe places for bikes and the thieves seem to be well equipped. After doing the rounds of theft declaration at the local police station, the assistance company did their job and found us a rental car to take us and our stuff home. Then started a series of boring formalities and a 21 day wait for the insurance company to reimburse me so that I could buy another everyday ride.

What was I going to get? What would be the ideal bike for the money I had available? I put some of the time to use by reading up all sorts of magazines and tests related on the web, trawling the web for recent second-hand versions of the machines that I thought might best fit my job description, and trundled around a few dealers to look, drool and discuss things. The brief was basically this: a bike that was fun to ride, handling well, with an engine having plenty of punch and character well integrated to an ensemble that was capable of occasionally also taking two people and some luggage on longish trips in almost acceptable comfort. No, we don't need armchairs yet! 

The new Norton Commando, taken alongside my now long-lost KTM during a previous trip. Looks good but is just 50% too expensive when compared with machines that do a similar job. And I have an old one anyway.

A big sports/trail bike?  They are certainly now sophisticated, fast and comfortable, but they are also ugly, mostly too heavy, expensive and their bulkiness just puts me off. I drooled a bit over the new Norton but it is fiendishly expensive and I am not convinced about its luggage capacity. I was tempted by the BMW 1200 R, a sensible choice and by all accounts a very good machine, but a bit pricey, especially with the necessary accessories, and even for a second-hand one. Another KTM? Yes, very possibly but not the 690 Duke again, which, although a lot of fun to ride solo, has an annoying lack of flexibility below 3500 rpm, vibrates quite a lot and can sound a bit tinny. Its carrying capacity is also limited and anyway I wanted to try something else. The twin KTMs, especially the 990, seemed like good options and KTM are one of the few manufacturers who deliver a decent tool kit. Not a sufficient reason I know, but it is worth mentioning. I was also very tempted by a Moto Guzzi 1200 sport, which can do bags easily and has character. I got as far as finding a couple of recent second handers at the right price but the weight of the thing made me hesitate a bit. I do adhere to Colin Chapman's adage of "add lightness". I looked at Triumphs Speed and Street Triples, which clearly fit the fun part of my brief but the luggage problem was not going to be solved there.

When I sold my Ducati Multistrada (the old model) in 2012, after a long series of mechanical problems, I had sworn not to return to Ducati in a hurry. Yet the Italian firm have recently brought out a version of the Hypermotard equipped with side panniers, a screen and a few other mods to make the thing a but more civilized for ageing bikers. And I read here an excellent series of filmed long-term test reviews of this machine in the web version of Motor Cycle News by someone who clearly has similar requirements to myself. This bike, which uses the 821 water-cooled Testastratta engine, seemed to fit the bill and, although I rather dislike the looks of it (that horrible duck bill!), I decided to have a try on one. I found a recent demo model at the Paris dealers that was just about in my price range and went for a test ride. Although the weather was wet and I couldn't quite figure out how to use the computer that allows you to programme engine performance, throttle response, brake locking and wheel spin (can you believe these modern machines and their electronics?) the engine felt really nice, surprisingly flexible and with plenty of grunt. And the thing felt light and handled like a Ducati should but with some added comfort. In a sense, it reminded me of the spirit of the old version of the Multistrada, with the advantages of a more modern mechanical set-up and, hopefully, greater reliability (Audi, the new owners, must surely be keeping an eye on this aspect at least). So, after some modest haggling, I bought the thing, then and there. It only had 1600 kilometers on the clock and had been properly run-in.

here she is...my Ducati Hyperstrada (what an awful name!) in the vineyards of Clos de Vougeot in Burgundy

I took final delivery last week and rode it down from Paris to Burgundy and back on an often wet 700 kilometer spin last weekend. It's clearly a very good bike and seems surprisingly versatile. The engine programme can be set to urban (which reduces power from 105 to 75 bhp), touring (full power but less rapid throttle response), or sport. And within these basic settings one can play with the degrees of ABS intervention and track control. I have yet to get the full measure of all of this technology but it seems convincing in its effects and the traction control seems useful in the rain. 

The engine is the star element for me on this machine. It is far smoother and more flexible than the KTM 690 (to be expected, moving from a single to a twin, but it is also quite a bit more flexible than was my old Multistrada), and it has terrific mid-range grunt and a pleasantly gruff bark when accelerating. It will easily lift the front wheel in almost any gear if you allow it. I have yet to test it at the top end since I am finishing off the running-in. The handling seems fine, neutral and steady and it also feels light and stable at low speeds. Useful in city traffic. Brakes are good too. The riding position is pretty comfortable on a long trip, although the dent in the seat, while holding you well, prevents you from shifting your butt back for time to time. The screen protects you a bit from the breeze and the rain, but a taller one could be an option. The control buttons take a bit of getting used to and will not be too easy to manage with winter gloves on. 

Ah, those digital display systems. Not crazy about them

I don't like the digital display system much, it is fussy and not too legible. It also lacks a gear indicator and a fuel gauge, although the reserve seems quite generous at about 4 litres, which, at legal speeds and out of town could give one close on 100 kilometers to come once the light goes on. And there is a distance counter that kicks it at that point. I found fuel consumption very reasonable on this trip at 4,5 litres per 100 kms, but then I was not revving it above 7,000 rpm.  Also on the practical side, it's been a while since I had a bike fitted with a centre stand and I found this useful, especially for parking with bags and when refueling. It will obviously make chain cleaning and oiling much easier too. The side bags are easily fitted and removed and can be locked  and the small package rack behind the seat is useful to tie on a kit bag. There is not real space for a U-lock and the tool kit is skimpy. However there are four fabric loops hidden under the seat and, when pulled out, one can slip in a U-lock which is then well held on the passenger seat when riding solo. A makeshift solution, so I guess I will have to make up a bracket to fit behid one of the side pannier supports. Why can't manufacturers deal with this issue?

The centre stand will probably limit cornering, especially when two up, but this bike is a handler alright

So yes, I am, so far, a happy new owner of this just second-hand Ducati that seems to be a very good compromise between the somewhat disparate criteriae that I had on my list. These are of course early days, but we are off to a good start together.

Setting your password

A friend just sent me this. You may have seen it before, but in any event it very likely echoes many experiences we have all had in this wonderful world of virtuality and pseudo-security. When one thinks that Big Brother is watching everything anyway...And what on earth is he going to do with all this information, the sorting of which would require most of the unemployed in the world, and quite some training for them in the process.

Todd: Sorry, your password has expired - you must register a new one.

Did anyone discover my password and hack my computer?

Todd: Sorry, but your password has expired - you must get a new one.

Why then do I need a new one as that one seems to be working pretty good?

Todd: Sorry, you must get a new one as they automatically expire every 30 days.

Can I use the old one and just re-register it?

Todd: Sorry, you must get a new one.

I don't want a new one as that is one more thing for me to remember.

Todd: Sorry, you must get a new one.

OK, roses

Todd: Sorry, you must use more letters.

OK, pretty roses

Todd: Sorry, you must use at least one numerical space.

OK, 1 pretty rose

Todd: Sorry, you cannot use blank spaces.

OK, 1prettyrose

Todd: Sorry, you must use additional spaces.

OK, 1fuckingprettyrose

Todd: Sorry, you must use at least one capital letter.

OK, 1FUCKINGprettyrose

Todd: Sorry, you cannot use more than one capital letter in a row.

OK, 1Fuckingprettyrose

Todd: Sorry, you cannot use that password as you must use additional letters.

OK, 1Fuckingprettyroseshovedupyourassifyoudon'tgivemeaccessrightfuckingnow

Todd: Sorry, you cannot use that password as it is already being used.

The beauties of Granada (1/2)

No, this article is NOT about Andalusian ladies!

The Alhambra (in the background, with the Sierra Nevada range beyond) from the top end of the Albayzin district, which is the old moorish part of the city

I recently spent a couple of days in this Spanish city, partly working, partly just wandering about. Granada is the capital of the eponymous province within the region of Andalusia in southern Spain. It is certainly most famous for having been the last capital of the moorish colony in Spain, under the Almohad dynasty that was finally defeated by the catholic armies in successive battles as they gradually advanced south between 1212 and 1248. Anyone who doubts (and current affairs sadly lead to such doubts) the extent of refinement to which some forms of islamic culture have engendered, would be well advised to visit the Alhambra, not to mention reading the works of such as Averroes, which is the latinized name for the philosopher, poet, mathematician, astronomer, etc., whose full name was Abu'l-Walid Muhammad ibn Rouchd of Cordoba, usually shortened to Ibn Rouchd.

A 19th or early 20th century painting of one of the inner courtyards of the Alhambra palace, seen in the fine art museum on the first floor of the Charles V palace that is now part of the Alhambra complex.

The best-known visible legacy of this cultural high-point of muslim culture is of course the Alhambra palace, a place of immense refinement and beauty which I had visited a few years ago during a bike trip to the region. This time I did not revisit the Alhambra as such visits need to be booked ahead and queued for. And I dislike queuing intensely. Anyway there is so much else to enjoy and admire in Granada and this is my subject here.

Doors are a constant and beautiful features of many old buildings (this one of a church currently being renovated along the Darro river)

Another one that mixes cedar (the mouldings) and walnut (the main panels). I love old doors. This one to what may well have been a former merchant's house, again along the Darro river.

Granada is also an significant student city in Spain and this is apparent from the high proportion of younger people walking or bicycling around the streets. There must be almost as many students as there are tapas bars here. I will return to the latter subject in a while. Geographically speaking, Granada lies in the north-eastern corner of the region of Andalusia, at the base of the Sierra Nevada mountains where one can ski in the winter. The water resources that result from this are what made the construction and plantings of the Alhambra possible, as Granada is built, at an altitude of just over 700 meters, at a point where three rivers flowing from the much higher Sierra Nevada range converge: the Beiro, the Darro and the Genil.

a good tapa dish, served free to bar patrons

The practice of tapas, however irregularly it may be followed throughout Spain and even Andalusia, is to me a joy of refinement and a sign of true hospitality on the part of the bars that maintain this tradition of serving a free small dish of varied foodstuffs, often quite elaborate, to customers who order a drink. It makes me want to stay there and order some more, which indeed I always do. A proper tapa is more than a few olives or, God forbid, some rancid peanuts or horrible crisps. Shown above is a typical example of a good tapa dish : small broad beans in olive oil with some soft red peppers and ham cooked with them.

water destroys roads. Just imagine what it does to your intestines

the 1 pm rush hour at Castaneda. hard to find a slot at the bar before 2, when they all go to lunch

The essence of a good tapas bar is ambience, a good selection of wines, and varied tapas dishes. A dose of humour also comes in handy 

Tapas bars in Granada may be traditional, like this excellent one above, Bodegas Castaneda (and a big hello to Alan S who introduced me to this place on a previous visit), or more modern, like this one, called Mariscal, next to the Corte Inglès department store.

and, if you turn around, you will see this fabulous collection of hams and other delicacies forbidden to muslims, as the bar backs onto a major delicatessen in which I saw people queuing up for hours to do their shopping.

  
Walking in Granada is a constant joy, partly because the city has managed to keep motorcars out of much of the centre and the many narrow streets that naturally discourage our 4-wheel friends. But also on account of the often beautiful pavements made of small stones hammered into sand and then cemented into intricate and functional designs.

Manhole covers look good too...


A biker can find occasional solace by checking the machinery parked outside some bars, like this KTM 1190 RC8R. A ride up to the Sierra Nevada? Just miss the manhole covers on the way out of town.

More about Granada and its attractions quite soon.....

The Sorrows of an American, by Siri Hustvedt

I think that I may well have written before about one of Siri Hustvedt's books and probably it was What I loved, which was marvelous and deeply moving. I have just finished, and for the second time, this book called "The Sorrows of an American".

The fact that I was able to read the book twice within a couple of years and still consider it to be a constant journey of discovery speaks well enough of the density and richness of this book, as of the quality of the writing.

Hustvedt is clearly deeply fascinated by and knowledgeable about many things to do with the brain and its complex workings, as well as the part played by memory and various obsessions on our conscious and unconscious existences.

As a woman writer, she is also able to place herself in the shoes of a male narrator without any difficulty, and she also navigates constantly and interestingly between reality and fantasy, past and present, drama and comedy. The book and its subject matter is intense and yet s easy and fascinating to read. It is often beautiful and moving.

The commentary that can just be seen on my photograph of the cover, by Salman Rushdie, is totally warranted, so, to make it easier for you, I will reproduce it here : "Hustvedt is that rare artist, a writer of high intelligence, profound sensuality and a less easily definable capacity for which the only word I can find is wisdom". I agree with him.

Go for this...

and read on...

The tortoise and the hare

Like the tortoise and the hare analogy? This one's for you.....
So take it easy on that road?

Suzuki café racer, aka number 16, aka "Silver Bullet"

I have always admired the massive, sculptural quality of the oil-cooled Suzuki engines, whether in their 750, 1100 or other formats. I acquired this bike in June 2013 from the modified and collector Suzuki GSX specialist in the Paris area, KMP (http://www.kmp.fr). 
This KMP Suzuki GSXR thus became the 16th machine I have owned at various points in time, hence the number 16 in the title.

It has since returned to KMP for some minor modifications, including carburetors and a different rev-counter/speedometer, which is now sheltered behind a small headlamp cowling that probably still needs a small cut-out to be made to improve visibility of the dial when riding as I am sat a bit further forward when ensconced in the machine than this photo shows. Anyway, progress being made in this project that started when I saw a picture of this machine in a slightly different state in the excellent French magazine Café Racer.
www.cafe-racer.fr

So I gave this silver bullet a spin yesterday and am beginning to like it. It feels business-like, solid and chunky. It looks good for sure, makes all the right noises (quite a lot of noise actually and I will need earplugs for longer trips for sure), but it will take a while for me to adjust to the crouched riding position, the energy required to lean it over when cornering (even with the right pressure in the tyres it takes quite an effort to make it turn) and the very full but linear delivery of the engine, which has a 1340cc capacity, Yoshimura cams, and just seems to go and go without any gap in the power-band. I am not used to four-cylinder bikes and keep finding myself searching for an inexistent 6th gear as the pitch of the engine rises!

So here are the full specs:

The basis is a 1990 GSX-R (frame and engine)
Front fork is from a more recent GSX-R (I think)
Engine, initially of 1100cc capacity, is now of 1340cc and has Yoshimura cams fitted
Carbs are from a Suzuki Bandit 1200
Wheels and discs are from a Ducati 1000
Rear brake is Brembo
Front brakes use Ducati discs, Billet calipers and a Nissin master-cylinder

Tyes are Metzeler

The swinging arm is a reinforced piece from Formula and the rear shock is by Fournalès

Crank-case covers are Vance and Hines

The aluminium exhaust and twin silencers are from Hindle

The all-in-one rev-counter, speedo, trip and indicators is from MotoGadget

Plastic bits are mostly produced by KMP, as are the small cylinders on the bars for clutch and front brake, and the rear-sets.

The fibre-glass tank has a transparent slot in it to show fuel level 
The seat can be converted to take a passenger but there are no passenger foot-pegs as yet and may not ever be! I have an alternative single seat as well.
The rear-view mirrors, wherever they come from, are not too great and are hard to adjust.

That's about it. Good to be back on this blog of mine and please forgive me for a long absence. The call of summer was too strong. More about that soon folks!

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Why did God create the Earth?

Ok, so it had best be known, in case that is not already quite obvious, that I am not in any way a believer in concepts, things or people (please cross out the terms that are irrelevant to you, as nobody has yet managed to define to which category "God" belongs: possibly "he", "she" or "it" is a category to themselves) that are qualified by some as a deity or deities. 

But I grew up in a culture that did tend to believe in such things, and which maintains the rather strange visual embodiment of this concept as an oldish man with a beard, often to be found lurking behind a cloud, and sometimes preceded by rays of sun slanting down towards this planet to which us humans (at least most of us) are confined.

So all this is to explain why I find this image somewhat familiar and the message funny.

The corollary to which is of course the following question: "do penguins have knees?". And this can lead to other questions of that ilk, such as "and if they do, what do they use them for?"

(With all due thanks to those who introduced me to this image and transferred it to my computer, in particular my niece Arabella and one of her daughters, Marina)

My 16th bike is a modified Suzuki GSXR 1100

You never thought that I would talk about Japanese bikes on this site? Wrong, dead wrong as I am far from sectarian in bike-likes, even though I may have periodic preferences.  Anything with wheels can be fun, and anything with 2 wheels and a motor is usually plenty of fun. I have total respect for any motorbike, even if I would not want to own many of them. Way back in the past I did once own a Honda 175 twin and, for running around streets in London near where I once lived and playing kiddies in paddocks, a 50cc Monkey Bike.

I have admired many Japanese motorcycles and Japan is clearly one of the all-time most creative and prolific producers of bikes. I hold fond memories of watching Mike the Bike howling between the curbs, walls and hedges on the Isle of Man circuit on Honda 6's and 4's. And some legendary machines I would really like to own, like the Honda RW30.

But, amongst the many more accessible, mass-produced machines that have made Japanese motorcycles dominate in just about every category of motorized 2 wheelers, there is one engine and frame that have always appeared to me as a sculptural work of motorcycle art, albeit of the art brut kind: the Suzuki GSXR of the air and oil-cooled era. The rectangular section aluminium frame was quite revolutionary when introduced in about 1984 and these bikes, initially of 750cc before also coming out in a big-bore 1100 cc version, were at the time the fastest on the road and were directly derived from the Suzuki endurance racers that were at that time cleaning up on the circuits.

This Suzuki GSXR 1100 is originally from about 1991 but has now  been considerably modified, freed of all fairings, and is now sitting in my garage.

Not being a purist or a "collector" of original machines that have to have everything in place just as it came out of the crate, I like to see some improvements and/or modifications made to most bikes. This is about two things. Firstly actual improvements and adaptations to one's current usage, since, after all, many items or pieces of technology have improved over that past decades (just think of tyres, to take just one example). But also the idea that a motorbike is such a personal (and, agreed, egotistical) piece of machinery that one may as well go to it and make it more distinctively individual by doing (or, in my case, mostly having done) various modifications for aesthetic and technical reasons. Customizing is the name of that game, I suppose.

A while ago I saw in the excellent French magazine Café Racer (www.cafe-racer.fr) an article on a workshop out in the eastern suburbs of Paris called KMP (and here is their web site, in French:www.kmp.fr‎) which specializes mainly in GSXRs of various eras, and their rebuilding and transformation into customized machines of various types. And the prices they were asking for these renovated and modified machines looked pretty reasonable, given the work that had presumably gone into them. So, after a few months secret longing and some saving-up, I finally took the plunge and went to see them with firmish intentions. Very friendly and informative was Christophe, the boss, and he showed me a bike that I had in fact spotted in the Cafe Racer article. I remembered liking its sober grey livery with a see-through section in the tank to check fuel level, its polished frame and spoked wheels. It still needed a bit of work and I asked for a few other mods also, so I finally got it back home about 6 weeks later.

What's it like to ride? Bit of a pig in traffic, added to which the carburetors need a bit of sorting still as it misfires between 4 and 5,000 rpm, which is just what you don't need when accelerating! The braking is great and it feels like a rail in bends although it is pretty physical to turn. The tiny electronic rev-counter/ digital speedo doesn't work but I'm having that changed for something better and more legible. Not sure I will do 500 kms per day on this but it's a blast to ride. The Hindle silencers say they are homologated, but I'm not sure by whom or for what. Maybe the man was called Hindle Homologated? As it is impossible to see what speed you're actually doing, I tried playing it by ear but soon realized that I had no chance there as I am far too used to singles or twins that rev much lower. Instead I constantly find myself feeling for higher gears that seem to be missing from the gearbox. I suppose I will get used to this motor running at way above 8,000 rpm or whatever.

The bike is currently back with KMP for the necessary adjustments. Will tell you more soon. I suspect it has been overbored to about 1240cc. She looks the part anyway, so I am pleased with my piece of sculpture. Can my driver's licence resist though?


Ride well and safely.

What can one tell of a wine from wrapping?

The packaging of all kinds of produce has been used for as long as anyone can remember to make them more attractive to potential buyers, and wine is clearly no exception. Paradoxically, people are in theory quite suspicious of appearances, whilst regularly falling for seductive trappings. Popular sayings in different languages clearly express the idea that packaging bears little or no relation to what is to be found inside. For example : « you can’t  judge a book by looking at the cover », or the French equivalent « l’habit ne fait pas le moine », meaning « you cannot tell a monk by his dress ». But packaging is clearly important and indeed useful to help distinguish one product from another and to situate it somewhere on an aesthetic or economical scale of values, even when these codes are more or less ignored or transgressed by the producer, knowingly or otherwise.

Sparkling Champagne, in particular, was an innovative and expensive type of wine to produce, back in in the 19th century when industrial bottles and machine labeling began to be part of the regular process for packaging wines. To help justify the prices asked and to project an image of luxury and wealth that satisfied the egos of consumers as well as the pockets of producers and retailers, labeling of sparkling wines from the Champagne region got very fancy, as some of the examples above clearly show. It is worth noting that the Champagne region had not yet been delimitated, and even less become an Appellation Contrôlée at this time. Interesting also to note that individual Champagne villages were then considered to be significant, and in fact more so than the term Champagne itself, which had not yet become the significant regional collective brand that was later to be developed.

I have often been struck by the fact that few of my wine journalist colleagues seem to talk much about wine labels or packaging in general. Is this because they consider the subject unworthy of attention, or does it mean that they do not like judging books by covers, with which I tend to agree anyway ? But the subject merits our attention nonetheless, and I personally enjoy many of the efforts of graphic designers and other creative artisans to make the bottles we gaze at on shelves fall into our hands. Our dominant sense is clearly the visual one, so we may as well admit it. Ask any shop manager in the wine section of a self-service outlet, and they will surely tell you that pricing and packaging play the main part in decision-making on the part of the majority of wine buyers whom, it should be underlined, are NOT regular readers of wine blogs, web sites or magazines devoted to what they simply consider (and perhaps rightly) as just another drink.

The appearance of a bottle definitely makes a statement about the producer and the product. Just take a look at any of those created by (or for) Randall Grahm in California to get the point. A couple are shown above. Naturally this kind of label is speaking to a bunch of initiates, who have some access to the words and thought process of someone as sophisticated, witty and creative as Grahm.

It can of course be argued that the best ( ?) and longest-known wines hardly need sophisticated packaging to sell themselves, since they have already found an audience who is often prepared to pay totally absurd sums of money just to possess one such bottle and for whom the label, apart from the prestige it reflects on the owner of that bottle amongst his friends or business relations, is secondary at best. But what about all those other wines, which probably constitute about 99% of the world vinous lake?

Let’s take a look at the more-or-less entry level in price terms. All kinds of ideas have been tried to make wines more accessible to a wider public, and one can but approve of these attempts. One of the latest to come on the market (although I had previously spotted this idea in use for a Provençal wine being sold in Thailand about 15 years ago) is wine in aluminium cans. These small cans (187 milliliters, or the equivalent of a quarter bottle) retail in France for 2,50 euros and have recently been launched by a company called Winestar. Don’t like the name much, but that’s not the point perhaps. I received three of the wines (as shown above) from this new company. A white, a rosé and a red. All were from the vast and usually inexpensive Languedoc region of southern France, and indeed from appellations contrôlées within that. Now I realize that the idea of wine in cans will induce a grimace on the part of many wine buffs, but I say why not? If this convenient manner of carrying and consuming induces large numbers of younger people to the joys of wine, then let’s hope the idea takes off in a big way. It is surely better for them than the sugar-infested mixed alcohol beverages that many consume at the moment.  And it may lead to a greater degree of sophistication and interest in drinks with some refinement of flavour, rather then just alcohol and sugar. One can always dream I suppose. Anyway I decided to taste these three wines from a company that claims to be the Nespresso of wine. Now that's quite a claim since the Nespresso product is of superior quality in its flavours. To be honest, I did not find this to be the case with Winestar, as you will see.  Of course, when one knows that a wine has been served from a can, the natural tendency is to think that it has a metallic flavour, and this happened to me with 2 out of the 3 samples I had. I will have to repeat the test, with other similar wines and with the wines poured into a glass by someone in another room. But, for what they is worth, here are my tasting notes.

Winestar, Corbières blanc 2011

A clean rather soft nose that shows aromas of yellow fruit. Ok on the palate, although it seems a bit firm, more chemical than fruity. Has some body to it but this doesn’t quite hide what I construed, perhaps wrongly, as a mineral and metallic texture.

Winestar, Languedoc rosé 2012

This has pleasant fruit flavours of the grenache/cinsault type.Quite precisely defined and lively on the palate, with persistence of this pleasant fruit character. I still found that it had a lightly metallic finish.

Winestar, Corbières rouge 2011

The nose is oaky and smoky – a bit too much so in fact. This is rustic in texture, and even a bit rough. It is an honest but unrefined wine of the type that one finds very often in this area, although the bad ones are getting thankfully fewer by the year. At least it didn’t seem metallic to me! Next time we’ll do this blind and see whether the metallic feel was a figment of my imagination and prejudice.

Another recent opportunity to test relationships between packaging and wines was given to me by a friend who imports wines from various countries, mostly far away, to France. He was looking at some samples of possible additions to his already extensive range and asked me, as he often does, to give my opinion on them and their value for money.

First up were this pair that hail, unexpectedly, from Hungary and the somewhat tradition-bound region of Tokay, best known for its very sweet (and often magnificent) Aszu wines. This pair comprised a dry white and a sweet white, but not an Aszu. Now Hold and Hollo is a pretty strange name for a wine brand and I’m not quite sure that I get it all. I think I grasped the « Hold » part (ha!ha!) as the pimples on the plastic wrap that doubles as a label makes it far easier to grab the bottle out of an ice bucket. But « Hollo » ? Another surprise was the price. Visual creativity is good and I have no objection to these examples, but somehow they convey to me an image of a fairly inexpensive wine, perhaps in the realm of 10 euros or even less. But in fact they would have to retail for at least double that sum. Therein lies, I think, a discrepancy between the target/image and the price. What about the wines? The dry white was excellent, vibrant, firmly structured and lingering. The sweet was a bit ordinary and lacking in zip. So, what else?

These two wines, which hail from the Yarra Valley in Victoria, Australia, seemed to me to have it all. Refinement of textures and flavours (at least the Chardonnay and the Pinot noir, pictured here), creative and easy to read labels, an arresting brand name, Innocent Bystander , and screwcaps to keep the goods in, the air out, and the wine free of unwanted contamination. To add to which, I thought that the back labels, which are too often wasted on a load of guff about brilliant « terroir » and imagined flavours, not to mention trite food pairings, were well and concisely put, saying just enough about the winemaking approach and the place of origin to intrigue one without telling the potential consumer what he or she should be tasting in their glass (see below).

I saw a photo of the winery, which seems as elegantly modern as the packaging of these wines, and which also incorporates a good restaurant. This producer seems to have worked out a fully coherent ensemble in which all the parts link well to the others and the whole is harmonious. Congratulations! 

Another example for the road, with a different story but a similar approach in which aesthetics of some boldness tell a dramatic story. I have a friend, called Raimond de Villeneuve, whose vineyard in Provence was totally devastated by a hailstorm on July 7th last year. Raimond works hard to make ends meet and has made a slot for himself due to the excellence of his wines and a good dose of creativity.  Château de Roquefort is the name of the estate and its winery is far from the latest in high-tech as Raimond is not rich. He has just managed to keep together a family estate, or what is left of it, by hard work and talent. In a few minutes last July he saw everything on the floor, the 24 hectares of vines stripped of leaves and, of course, fruit. Later, after calling a few vigneron friends, the idea emerged amongst them to give Raimond small plots of vineyards here and there to harvest so that he could at least produce some wine and survive. The numbers grew to about 20, including many of the most reputed estates in Provence and the Southern Rhône Valley.

The result, or at least one of them since he also made a couple of other wines thanks to this solidarity operation, is shown above. It is called Red no 2, Grêle 2012 (grêle being French for hail). It cannot bear the name of his estate as the grapes did not come from there. And it is a Vin de la Méditerranée, a vast area covering a lot of South-Eastern France. Indeed the grapes came from estates that are up to 200 kilometers apart. And the wine? Bloody good. Very easy drinking, with lots of lively mediterranean character. An exemplary and flavour-packed « quaffing » wine that has emerged from an exemplary story that shows that some people are, well, good. And the packaging? Raimond’s graphic design has been handled for some time by a friend of his from Austria (or is it Germany ?). Anyway, I feel that this label succeeds brilliantly in conveying both the violence of the original catastrophe, and the subtle blend of all the estate names that slip into the picture like so many autographs on a rugby shirt, forming a sense of team spirit that has been his saviour.

So yes, labels can tell a story, or at least symbolize one or part of one. But you probably need the keys to the full story behind the scenes to make all the connections. The rest is about aesthetics,....just like one's taste for a wine in fact.