The Insignificant Seven Go Wine Prospecting

February 28, 2019

The Insignificant Seven Go Wine Prospecting

Those who have been keeping an on our shelves will have noticed new arrivals form South America, no longer is it just the land of cheap bulk varietals and bottles so heavy you can use them as a hammer- new winemakers and independent estates focused on quality over quantity are showing just how good (as was long suspected) the continent can be. 

To unearth new producers and find a bolthole for after March 29th, Chris is undertaking an arduous journey into the darkest depths of South America and will be reporting back daily (ish)..

Here is Day 1-

 Dramatis Personnae

Lee-       aka Captain Malbec

Philip-   We’ve brought our very own Sheriff of Nottingham

JJ-           Permanently hungry and with a nose for sniffing out the best bars

Simon-  If sardonic were not already a word, Simon would still be it.

Al-          Young and good looking, distressingly so. Bastard!

Raoul-   We’ve got our own Jersey Boy!!

Connolly

After months of planning, days of packing, hilarious banter being exchanged over the newly formed WhatsApp group and an almost incendiary level of anticipation threatening to overwhelm us, I cannot begin to tell you how exciting it is to step off the plane in Santiago this morning, to be greeted by our hosts and to head straight off into the Chilean landscape. The reason I cannot begin to tell you is that, after Iberia Airlines displaying levels of incompetence that suggest that the combined energies of Theresa May and Jeremy Corbyn have been maliciously unleashed on our septet of travellers, we woke this morning in Madrid’s answer to a Wetherspoon’s hotel stuck out somewhere on the dodgy side of the gasworks. 

 The details scarcely bear transmission – technical faults, website failures, delays, missed connections (obv) waiting 45 minutes for a final piece of luggage (sorry chaps but hardly my responsibility) and eventual arrival into El Wetherspoons just before 3.00 this morning, when I eventually arrived at the door to my euphemistically described suite to be met with a wave of stale cigarette smoke of such intensity as to fell a horse at 100 metres it was almost a relief that it was no worse.

 So, Day One – Madrid….

 Watch this space.





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