We’re off to a festival this weekend. And it’s my favourite kind of festival because it’s local, meaning I get to soak up the atmosphere and still collapse into my own bed at the end of it.
So, as I write this, everywhere is blanketed in the white stuff. But like a foot sticking out from the edge of the duvet, where we live (in the New Forest) is cold but uncovered.
After spending last week in London tasting around 100 wines a day (I was judging at the International Wine Challenge, not just really thirsty), I’m back and trying to get on top of things.