Seven barrels of wine

It's harvest time and we lend a hand under the Provençal sun, cutting the sweet grapes from the vines.

On our way to the beautiful Lubéron, we gather new experiences around the Lyon motorway.
We want to head towards Grenoble and know that we need to take the connector to Lyon airport, which incurs an extra fee. But oh well.

As the toll booth comes into view, we begrudgingly pay the €3.80 after having already shelled out €35 for the previous 350 kilometers. The caravan costs extra too.
Upon leaving the toll booth, we are greeted by signs announcing the cities of Bourg-en-Bresse and Besançon. Umm - we just came from there!?

Shaking our heads, we realize we should have taken the lane to the left of the toll booth. Now we have to drive 15 kilometers to the next exit, pay €1.50, make a U-turn in the roundabout, pay another €1.00 to get back on the road, and then finally at the end of today’s trip €3.80 to reach our sleeping place by the Étang.
At this rate, we’ll never make our first million!

Now, however, it's grape harvesting in the Lubéron.

Helping hands are always welcome and a few introductory tips won't hurt

1. Always hold the vines far from the cutting point! The scissors are sharp and not only cut the grapes but also like to nip at fingers. I know this pain all too well, having experienced it about 15 years ago and I can still remember it vividly.

2. The vines are only worked from one side.
Because you usually can't see the hands of the other person through the dense foliage and the scissors are sharp. And bam! A finger gets cut off and changes the taste of the later fine drop.

3. The very small vines either stay attached or end up in the stomach.
They have grown later and are too sour for wine. I still like their taste!

4. Watch out for mold on the grapes. It spoils the wine.

5. Don’t let anyone fool you: even the best organic wine is not vegetarian, let alone vegan! I try to shake off all the little snails from the grapes, but I can’t manage to get them all. Not to mention the earwigs, ants, beetles, bugs, spiders, and anyone else who lives in the vines - they all ruthlessly end up in the press and are fermented in the end.

That's about it, now we can get started.
We're lucky, we don’t have to work in the early morning hours with the white wine and can first calmly enjoy our coffee.
After an hour, the first bin is quickly filled with red Syrah and must go into the press, where the white grapes are still being juiced. They ferment faster and thus need to be processed quickly.

Here, harvesting is not only done manually, but the wine is also produced on-site.
The pressed juice is pumped into huge 3000-liter stainless steel tanks, where fermentation is closely monitored. The temperature must be controlled and the alcohol content measured. Then the drop is stored in wooden barrels for two to three years before being bottled with decorative labels.

The wine from the alternative cooperative can be bought directly at the Cabrery farm or at the nearby weekly markets - a little advertising insertion...

In the afternoon, the still ailing Zappa helps us with a few buckets of grapes instead of the planned little walk, making sure to rescue the tiny white sand heath snails with utmost attention. I end up cutting myself on the sharp scissors, but only a little so that my blood doesn't overly dilute the later wine.
As consolation, I go to gather a few vines without snails at the end of the day.

We are even lucky enough to experience this year’s wine festival. The fine drops flow in streams, delicious delicacies are served, on the grill, spicy merguez, tender lamb sausages, and exquisite organic meat sizzle.

Almost, we could have delivered fresh wild boar leg as a contribution to the feast.
This year’s hunting season is also opened in the Lubéron forests. Everywhere you can hear the gunfire, orange warning caps glow in the dark green slopes and far visible signs alert carefree walkers to la chasse.
During an evening outing, we cross the road with four rather large wild boars calmly in the light of the Kangoo headlights. Luckily, the winding roads can only be driven at a snail's pace.

The next afternoon, a huge wild boar, as large as a cow, races from right to left in front of our bumper, in an incomprehensible gallop! If the little red Fiat had been in front of us, it would have flattened that animal, Obelix would have truly enjoyed that. Fortunately, we missed it - luckily...

Three passionate bards entertain the crowd at the wine festival unplugged with traditional Provençal tunes on medieval instruments such as double bass, Renaissance lute, and tambourine, until a very popular band from Marseille plays raucous, crazy 80s avant-garde techno, bringing the party to a splendid ending into the early morning hours.

We won't experience that again. We want to visit the village flea markets on Sunday, and we probably also lack the right drugs.