Things I miss

This weekend is the wine festival in Bourgogne. We went both years we were in Geneva, taken there by some generous wine-loving friends. These two occasions are among my fondest memories of Europe. (I confess that thoughts of the wine figure rather more prominently than they perhaps should in my daydreams of living in Europe again.) As I think back to the good times we had, I can almost smell the wine fermenting in oaky barrels ... the dim lighting in the wine cellar ... the crunch of the salty homemade crackers in between mouthfuls of wine ... racks upon racks of dusty wine bottles...

Here are a few pictures, while I go soak in the nostalgia...





"Mais du Bourgogne tout le temps." Indeed.