Le Couvent Diary

Happy Valentine's Day to you. I hope you're having a wonderful day surrounded by love. Here in Roujan it's a bitterly cold, but sunny Sunday, so we're within 3 metres of a roaring log-burner watching the Winter Olympics. Ali's shocked as it was a very muggy 36 degrees when she left Western Australia earlier this week. I drove through thick snow on the road to Toulouse Airport to pick her up, but the snowploughs and salters had done an excellent job, so it was pretty clear on the return journey.

 

 

I'm praying the temperatures will rise over the next two weeks. We're expecting our lovely team of volunteers at the end of the month and the work will pass so much more sweetly if we're not battling freezing winds. Each year we advertise for volunteers and unbelievably we get takers.

 

 

They pay to get here and they offer their labours for a week. In exchange we make them work like Trojans in the vineyard, cook gigantic meals, and suffer fairly spartan conditions in our under-heated house. But amazingly it all gets done with spectacularly good humour and we laugh all week long. People get fitter, happier, and sometimes fatter and they leave the vineyard looking stunning. We simply can't thank them enough. Meanwhile, Kit the dog won't be wearing her new Australian coat. It's a bit on the tight side so she obviously feels ridiculous.

 

If you ever think of importing a car to France, forget it. It's a squillion times easier to buy one here, even if second-hand cars do cost the absolute earth. I've finally managed to get the paperwork together for my Mum's old car which now lives here. This is the pile of paperwork that's just gone off to the authorities.




Tomorrow we're hoping to finish the very last of the pruning in the vineyard. That'll be around 5500 done - each tended by hand. I actually love the pruning as it really is the time when you kick off the wine-making year. As you approach each vine you think about the wine you want to produce, trying to find the balance between quantity and quality. Last year we made a mistake which cost us dear later in the year. There were extremely violent winds during last Spring and we lost at least a quarter of the long young shoots to the gusts. Only subsequently did we hear that the locals say that you should leave enough for the wind when you prune. Our Grenache and Carignan is particularly vulnerable as it's in an exposed position at the top of our land on the side of a big hill. I'm not going to make the same mistake again.

Last year's wine is coming on very well. We're hoping to bottle at the end of April and we're currently talking with a wonderful ( and famous!) designer about preparing us some labels. More news later. The labels we codged together last year were amazingly successful, so we'd like to keep a mixture of the sacred and profane if we can. Who knows. Better ideas may come.

We have a new booking system on this website and it's working very well. In the past potential guests have had to engage in an e-mail dialogue with us, all of which took time, especially with differing time zones involved. Now enquirers can see immediately if their chosen room is available for the dates they want, and can book, pay the deposit, and have the stay confirmed without waiting for us to respond. As a result our bookings are already up on last year, which makes us very happy! So if you're hoping to come to Le Couvent this year, why delay? Go on, it'll give you something to look forward to.

Meanwhile, I'm off to watch the Italy vs England rugby match.

It's been a long time since the last post. August has been our busiest month of the season - not only choc-a-bloc with B&B guests, but also with our grape harvest and wine-making. After the heavy rains in April we had a diminished number of tiny grape florets, already reduced by the after effects of the terrible hail storm last September. This summer has also been officially heatwave hot, so the result for us has been a tiny harvest of very early ripening grapes. We ended up with just three trailer loads like this. A ridiculously small harvest from 2.5 hectares.

 

 

We picked during the third week of August - at least a fortnight early. Since then we have moved our wine-making operation to Le Couvent, where we now have a miniature cave, complete with fermentation tanks and all the paraphernalia you need to make wine.

 

 

Thanks to help from several unsuspecting, yet willing, guests and friends we got our meagre harvest picked in record time, over three early mornings, before the temperatures began to soar.

 

 

Since then we have completed the initial fermentation on two of our three cuvées and will work on the third today. After that it's just a question of regular checking that all is OK until the spring, when a secondary fermentation should take place.

 

The good news is that people seem to really like the wine from last year's fated harvest - L'Orage, a blend made on the hoof while we were picking, Syrah, Cinsault & Grenache. But the truth will be known when our lovely Master of Wine pal, Rosemary George , tastes it on Sunday evening. I'm nervous.

With just over three weeks to go before the end of our season, and a fully booked B&B, I'd be lying if I said Ali and I weren't a bit tired. But reserves get tapped at this time of the year, and we have such lovely guests that it's easy to rise to the occasion. We seem to have laughed our way through the summer thanks to some very funny people, especially all the jolly Americans and Canadians who've pitched up at Le Couvent. Thank you all!

 

If you'd like to know how the wine's progressing click the picture below>>>>

 

 

We're now into our second week of volunteers and I thought I'd drop in a quick word between all our guest bloggers. If you'd like to see what they've been doing you'll need to have a look at their diary .

When Ali and I bought the vineyard we've named Chateau Malaudos we thought it was beautiful. Abandoned for at least three years, it looked tired and neglected, but you could see those high cheekbones and exquisite structure nevertheless. However, we had no idea what a sleeping beauty the land really was until our volunteers started work. They've lifted off the dead skin, plucked her eyebrows, removed the blemishes, pulled the hairs from her chin, moisturised and given her some beautiful earrings. She has had a stunning new haircut and, needing no clothes, has revealed the body of a goddess. I think we're all thrilled at the revelation brought about by the volunteers and their fantastic work. Ali and I certainly don't have words enough to express our thanks adequately.

Each day two of our volunteers were responsible for preparing breakfast and dinner. For many this was the first time they had cooked for more than four - we were frequently at least 12 at the table.

 

 

Someone was always responsible for ensuring the dogs didn't get too stressed. 

 

So many excellent meals demanded hefty work to burn off the calories.

 

 

 

And when the volunteers had had enough of one job there were plenty of tools ready to start the next one.

 

 

But it hasn't been all work. On Saturday afternoon we all had a go at archery. It wasn't a wild success in the scoring department, although a couple of us did finally hit the target. Everyone seemed to enjoy the experience nevertheless.

 

 

 

 

Ali and I realised a long held plan when the first week's team painted a quotation from 14th century anchorite Dame Julian of Norwich on the wall of Le Couvent. It reads 'all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well'.

We have just two more working days to go and our list has been well bitten into. Today is a day of rest and our current team has gone off to explore; some to the Mediterranean coast, others to St Guilhem le Desert, and one couple are travelling about chewing over the notion of finding a second home here. Meanwhile Ali and I catch up on e-mails, clean up our neglected apartment and plan her forthcoming trip to see her family in Australia. It's been an extraordinary two weeks.

Our first volunteer blogger is Chris.

My first thought when I opened my eyes this morning was that waking up on the first day of volunteer week with a more than slight hangover probably wasn't the brightest thing to do. Ah ...the perils of staying up (very) late with Ali B and limitless red wine.

We met with  a small hiccup when Lizzie came hot footing it back from the road up to the mazet and told us that EDF had closed the road for "Le maintenence essentiel" and that we couldn't get the vehicles up there. A smart bit of sweet talking by Lizzie saved the day and they downed tools for a short while to let us pass. Fleeting thoughts of going back to bed were dashed.

By 11am were all in position. Douggie, Caroline , Paula, Marianne and Sharon were pruning and strimming the last of the vines in the amphitheatre. Sue , Jane and I were spraying the vines near the potager - I thought it best to try and avoid any sharp implements early in the day.  Ali B went roaring off on the quad to try and find another route into the mazet as the road would be completely closed tomorrow. 

After a quick lunch of yummy soup made by the lovely Debbi  we were up and at 'em again and Sue and I pruned the olives while the others hacked, sawed, raked, sprayed and sweated. Layers of clothes were fast being discarded  as the sun came out and warmed us gently.

 

 

We then all set to clearing the path around the back of the amphitheatre and I was deemed sober enough to play with the petrol strimmer. It took about two hours but it is beginning to look great. Douggie, Caroline and Sharon did a fine job recovering the stone steps up to the next level.

 

 

There were lots of hot, red faces and aching limbs by the end of the day from our exertions but also a wonderful sense of satisfaction gained from really making a difference and working in such a beautiful place. Can't wait until tomorrow. But maybe less wine for me this evening!