Nigel with wine thief

Another day… another airport… another pile of CO2

The depressing reality of my summer of wine in Europe.

Here I am, sitting at Heathrow waiting for a flight to Zurich. In three days time I’ll be back here, waiting for the Madrid flight. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Yes, we are flying much less, but clearly something isn’t working. 

What isn’t working is the infrastructure, consensus and pricing. From London to Zurich can be done in just under 8 hours by train, but costs three to four times the price of flying which is, of course, less than 2 hours. Madrid is a 2 day expedition that is about 6 times the price once the necessary hotels etc., are factored in, not to mention the fact that I sometimes want to be at home, not sleeping on a platform. 

In truth a lot of my European travel can be done without the smell of Jet A1. I have been honing the art of journey by combination of TGV and Tesla. The plan is to fill the car with enough wine and clothes, jump on a ferry (or tunnel) from the UK to France, and then either drive where close enough, or park at the nearest TGV station and use the train for longer haul. After the gig, I can get the train back to the car, grab more wine and clean clothes, then set out on the next leg. 

It works pretty well, despite the fact that the vehicle wasn’t created as a combination warehouse and laundry bin. In truth I’d feel happier in a car not built by a man known for bizarre and unpredictable behaviour, but the choice is starkly binary: you either have the only vehicle with an international charging network that knows and accepts your car within milliseconds of waving a plug at it, or learn ‘this card is not recognised’ in 14 languages. 

But even Europe’s legendary high speed network has its issues. Some countries have the T but not the GV, so you plod along at a mere 150km or so. Others only depart on alternate winter Thursdays, and there is the occasional ‘cook your own stew if you want to eat’ version.

Finally, to stir chaos into the system, many of our importers selfishly schedule their annual portfolio tasting based, not on my eccentric transportation needs, but on when they can get 60 winemakers in one city at one time. That is the case this week. 

We should sort this, but it isn’t easy. You can’t do tasting by Zoom (believe me during COVID we tried and it was agonisingly dysfunctional). And no refinement of these technologies is going to make the Paris to Beijing train a thing. We can refuse to meet our customers or we can spend at least some time on planes. 

Trips create stories; frustrations and triumphs. I was starting a short tour of Ireland with a wine dinner recently when that nightmare of any restauranteur happened: everybody but two cancelled in the last 48 hours. The two were a cruel twist: they were charming company and hopefully enjoyed their somewhat intimate wine encounter, but I was acutely aware that I was just a few hundred metres from one of the best wine bars on the planet (The Black Pig, since you ask). It is common knowledge that I prefer to drink other wines than ours given the chance, so I was hankering over a tantalisingly close opportunity. Luckily our restaurant was able to provide me a gorgeous 2023 Riesling from the talented Peter Lauer, and after the meal we headed pigwards to share a bottle of a single vineyard Etna Rosso from Tenuta Della Terre Nere and nibble on a plate of the legendary smoked duck from the soon to be defunct Ummera Smokehouse. 

And therein lies the nub; travel enriches us, it teaches us to enjoy places and relish the fine people who live there. I have no doubt that a planet that travels less will fight more. I am also sure that conflict generates more carbon than an Airbus does. We have to be frugal with our carbon, but finding the path of least is a subtle task. 

Nigel Greening
Nigel and Nicola

Another day… another airport… another pile of CO2

The depressing reality of my summer of wine in Europe.

Here I am, sitting at Heathrow waiting for a flight to Zurich. In three days time I’ll be back here, waiting for the Madrid flight. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Yes, we are flying much less, but clearly something isn’t working. 

What isn’t working is the infrastructure, consensus and pricing. From London to Zurich can be done in just under 8 hours by train, but costs three to four times the price of flying which is, of course, less than 2 hours. Madrid is a 2 day expedition that is about 6 times the price once the necessary hotels etc., are factored in, not to mention the fact that I sometimes want to be at home, not sleeping on a platform. 

In truth a lot of my European travel can be done without the smell of Jet A1. I have been honing the art of journey by combination of TGV and Tesla. The plan is to fill the car with enough wine and clothes, jump on a ferry (or tunnel) from the UK to France, and then either drive where close enough, or park at the nearest TGV station and use the train for longer haul. After the gig, I can get the train back to the car, grab more wine and clean clothes, then set out on the next leg. 

It works pretty well, despite the fact that the vehicle wasn’t created as a combination warehouse and laundry bin. In truth I’d feel happier in a car not built by a man known for bizarre and unpredictable behaviour, but the choice is starkly binary: you either have the only vehicle with an international charging network that knows and accepts your car within milliseconds of waving a plug at it, or learn ‘this card is not recognised’ in 14 languages. 

But even Europe’s legendary high speed network has its issues. Some countries have the T but not the GV, so you plod along at a mere 150km or so. Others only depart on alternate winter Thursdays, and there is the occasional ‘cook your own stew if you want to eat’ version.

Finally, to stir chaos into the system, many of our importers selfishly schedule their annual portfolio tasting based, not on my eccentric transportation needs, but on when they can get 60 winemakers in one city at one time. That is the case this week. 

We should sort this, but it isn’t easy. You can’t do tasting by Zoom (believe me during COVID we tried and it was agonisingly dysfunctional). And no refinement of these technologies is going to make the Paris to Beijing train a thing. We can refuse to meet our customers or we can spend at least some time on planes. 

Trips create stories; frustrations and triumphs. I was starting a short tour of Ireland with a wine dinner recently when that nightmare of any restauranteur happened: everybody but two cancelled in the last 48 hours. The two were a cruel twist: they were charming company and hopefully enjoyed their somewhat intimate wine encounter, but I was acutely aware that I was just a few hundred metres from one of the best wine bars on the planet (The Black Pig, since you ask). It is common knowledge that I prefer to drink other wines than ours given the chance, so I was hankering over a tantalisingly close opportunity. Luckily our restaurant was able to provide me a gorgeous 2023 Riesling from the talented Peter Lauer, and after the meal we headed pigwards to share a bottle of a single vineyard Etna Rosso from Tenuta Della Terre Nere and nibble on a plate of the legendary smoked duck from the soon to be defunct Ummera Smokehouse. 

And therein lies the nub; travel enriches us, it teaches us to enjoy places and relish the fine people who live there. I have no doubt that a planet that travels less will fight more. I am also sure that conflict generates more carbon than an Airbus does. We have to be frugal with our carbon, but finding the path of least is a subtle task.