Not that long ago I wrote about the Greek government, its handling of the economy and its efforts to create growth again after at least a decade (more or less, depending on the numbers you choose to trust) in the doldrums. I described them, including everyone from the Prime Minister Mr. Tsipras down, quite politely I thought, as clueless. This was for the following simple reasons:
1. The financial meltdown has been borne largely by the private sector, with countless businesses being forced to close and their proprietors, usually through little fault of their own, bearing the cost - with homes being lost, mountains of debt assumed to cover not only the cost of closing down but ever-increasing taxation of one form or another, reputations and lives left in tatters.
2. Through the inept handling of the crisis, successive governments (yes, previous governments bear some of the blame but this one has proven to be a master of idiocy and ineptitude, partly because of dogmatic political affiliations) took the easy, somewhat medieval in approach, route of taxing private enterprise heavily to shore up the failing treasury, leaving both companies and most beleaguered owners perilously short of liquidity. An informed schoolkid could tell you, Mr. Tsakalotos, why this is unsustainable.
3. Growth that is real, sustainable and better than short-term can only come from the private sector, something which has been proven time and again throughout the world. This does not mean an unregulated free-for-all 'market', but it does mean that a robust, creative, FUNCTIONING private sector is needed.
4. An over-regulated, expensive to run private sector is not made more efficient and productive by more regulation, higher costs, new encumbrances. The KISS principle applies to this as to most everything in life - keep it simple, stupid! - but that, I fear, would tread on toes that are 'sacred' in one way or another.
So when ministers come out and announce their blueprint for growth which includes higher basic wages, new collective bargaining agreements and various other measures to boost employees welfare they are putting, quite literally, the cart before the horse. These things can and should, perhaps, happen (I believe the Greek labour market is already over-regulated, badly, with selective enforcement having different aims for those involved) when an economy is buzzing along happily and producing results. They should never, NEVER be imposed on an economy trying to recover from a long crisis.
Then this Minister for Employment, Social Security and Social Cohesion (itself a wonderfully b/s title), a person with an apparently excellent law degree but minuscule work experience, holds a press conference announcing all these wonderful measures and claims they are going to benefit the majority of Greeks as higher basic wages will mean more money in the actual economy being spent, meaning happy faces all around as this new money trickles down in this spending frenzy. Where the money to pay for increased salaries/taxes etc. will come from in an economy starved of liquidity, she seems strangely unconcerned. Whilst I would respectfully accept that you do not get a doctorate in Law anywhere in the world by being an idiot, no worldly experience and rigid ideological allegiances can do it for you every time.
My criticism is not about politics, though, but about practicalities - I would have been prepared to laud and salute the SYRIZA-ANEL governments of Mr. Tsipras and his cohorts if they had produced any real results out on the street, any real opportunity for growth - despite the fact that I have never been a communist support in my life. Instead, this mob is trying hard to convince me that they are, despite any education they may possess (and some actually do), absolute fools.
For Greece's sake I would love to be proven wrong.
Sunday, 24 February 2019
Thursday, 21 February 2019
Ghosts, and other creatures in my life
Let me start by saying that I am indebted to Ian Rankin for, not only the immense pleasure his books have given me over the years, but his concept of ghosts surrounding his main character, John Rebus. As Rebus gets older his private moments are more and more dominated by the 'presence' of people who have been part of his life but are alive no more, to the point where he finds it difficult to get a peaceful night's sleep in his bed but sleeps in an armchair instead. While not quite at this Rebus stage yet, I find that my life is very much populated by my ghosts, all the wonderful people who were important to me in one way or another but are no longer physically present.
I dare say that Rankin's concept is not necessarily original - I would think that many others have expounded on this over the years in one form or another and I have missed it - but it doesn't matter to me one way or the other, as his writing has made it accessible to me. Philosophers, no doubt, have grappled with similar concepts, as have the believers of the supernatural; alas I am not among them. The original source doesn't worry me, the concept itself, though, I find absorbing.
Like the fictitious Rebus I am no longer young and have lived an active life. Many, many people have played important roles, some unknowingly, but have now gone forever, existing in my mind as my ghosts. To some I owe debts of gratitude, to others apologies, but to all I am forever indebted for enriching my life, which is why they are often on my mind. Unlike Rebus I have little guilt, hardly life and death stuff, so there is little torment other than light self-flagellation, wishing I had been able to have been a better friend/son/lover, always there in the right way when needed.
As life takes its natural toll my ghostly community increases by the day and not just by people of previous generations - only a couple of weeks ago I lost two friends suddenly and in rapid succession, leaving me shocked and upset, a tad lonelier. One was a classmate from school, a successful actor, fit and healthy, the other an ex-supplier slightly younger than me; both died suddenly.
Lots of my favourite authors have also died, taking with them their creations. These creations had become part of my life, 'friends' to me in a strange but real sort of way, as I patiently waited for our next meeting; now with many of them that can only take place in my head (or in the future...???), as they have accompanied their creator down to Hades.
My ghosts are with me as I write this, with me as I go to bed, more lively at night but never absent during the day. My life, my ghosts.
I dare say that Rankin's concept is not necessarily original - I would think that many others have expounded on this over the years in one form or another and I have missed it - but it doesn't matter to me one way or the other, as his writing has made it accessible to me. Philosophers, no doubt, have grappled with similar concepts, as have the believers of the supernatural; alas I am not among them. The original source doesn't worry me, the concept itself, though, I find absorbing.
Like the fictitious Rebus I am no longer young and have lived an active life. Many, many people have played important roles, some unknowingly, but have now gone forever, existing in my mind as my ghosts. To some I owe debts of gratitude, to others apologies, but to all I am forever indebted for enriching my life, which is why they are often on my mind. Unlike Rebus I have little guilt, hardly life and death stuff, so there is little torment other than light self-flagellation, wishing I had been able to have been a better friend/son/lover, always there in the right way when needed.
As life takes its natural toll my ghostly community increases by the day and not just by people of previous generations - only a couple of weeks ago I lost two friends suddenly and in rapid succession, leaving me shocked and upset, a tad lonelier. One was a classmate from school, a successful actor, fit and healthy, the other an ex-supplier slightly younger than me; both died suddenly.
Lots of my favourite authors have also died, taking with them their creations. These creations had become part of my life, 'friends' to me in a strange but real sort of way, as I patiently waited for our next meeting; now with many of them that can only take place in my head (or in the future...???), as they have accompanied their creator down to Hades.
My ghosts are with me as I write this, with me as I go to bed, more lively at night but never absent during the day. My life, my ghosts.
Sunday, 17 February 2019
Making mistakes
The saying goes that 'the only person not to make a mistake is the one that never does anything' and I must admit that I fully agree with it. If this is an example of popular wisdom then I appear to be in support of it, something that in general I'm not famous for. Over the years I have found most of the various sayings attributed to popular wisdom to be either fatuous or downright ridiculous - please don't write in, dear reader, with what you consider sparklingly clear and true examples - and so have not been a fan. Forget that.
There are no infallible people in this world, none, however wise they may happen to be. Nobody knows what the right thing to do is all the time and about everything, much as we like to think otherwise. The only all-knowing - and, consequently, all-powerful - people exist in popular fiction, whether in novels or films; it is always compelling stuff, watching these people control the world around us. Alas it is also untrue and fairly easy to debunk with a bit of research.
Mistakes will be made, but they are acceptable provided our decision-making is based on rational thought, even a deep instinct, and is not purely a matter of whimsy. We must seek to avoid mistakes, yes, but not be afraid of them - should be treating them as learning experiences. We must also not be casual about accepting them constantly because 'we're human, and we all make mistakes'; one doesn't need super intelligence to see that this is a cop out. Be rigorous in trying to avoid them, be equally rigorous in analysing and trying to learn from them.
The people who claim - on whatever stage, public and grand or humble and private - that they never make mistakes are always, ALWAYS being dishonest with others and, probably, with themselves as well. Their usual tactic in order to promote this image is to trumpet every correct action and be deathly quiet about the failures, thus building the desired reputation in the eyes of others. This image and accompanying reputation does not bear close scrutiny, as it is based on perception that is itself created by falsehoods.
Luck is also a factor in life, whether we like it or not, and whilst we should not be reliant on it for our success it may always play a part in it or, indeed, our failure. Timing, the single most important determining factor in the success of everything, is more often than not down to luck, even when we insist on believing otherwise; this does not mean that we should not consider options carefully, giving them serious thought, before deciding to do something.
Looking back on life - mine and others - I can see many mistakes, including some that (with hindsight at least) could have been avoided. Even when I feel I would do things differently given the chance, knowing what I do now, I would still run the risk of making perhaps other mistakes and, therefore, I could still be creative and adventurous, if well researched, in my approach. Certainty when regarding future events is a myth, so we shouldn't allow ourselves to be seduced by its siren calls; the unexpected could always be around the corner. Sometimes we will be able to cope with it when it occurs, others perhaps not, and that is just the way life is.
We need to do our best, thinking things through and trying our hardest, but mistakes will still be made and, unless they involve wanton carelessness, there should be no shame attached. We then have to face and correct them, accept and walk away from them or, hopefully rarely, tell ourselves they haven't happened and ignore them, which is surely less than fruitful. Our mistakes are part of us, to be acknowledged, considered, even cherished. By pretending they do not exist we are poorer.
Mistakes will be made, but they are acceptable provided our decision-making is based on rational thought, even a deep instinct, and is not purely a matter of whimsy. We must seek to avoid mistakes, yes, but not be afraid of them - should be treating them as learning experiences. We must also not be casual about accepting them constantly because 'we're human, and we all make mistakes'; one doesn't need super intelligence to see that this is a cop out. Be rigorous in trying to avoid them, be equally rigorous in analysing and trying to learn from them.
The people who claim - on whatever stage, public and grand or humble and private - that they never make mistakes are always, ALWAYS being dishonest with others and, probably, with themselves as well. Their usual tactic in order to promote this image is to trumpet every correct action and be deathly quiet about the failures, thus building the desired reputation in the eyes of others. This image and accompanying reputation does not bear close scrutiny, as it is based on perception that is itself created by falsehoods.
Luck is also a factor in life, whether we like it or not, and whilst we should not be reliant on it for our success it may always play a part in it or, indeed, our failure. Timing, the single most important determining factor in the success of everything, is more often than not down to luck, even when we insist on believing otherwise; this does not mean that we should not consider options carefully, giving them serious thought, before deciding to do something.
Looking back on life - mine and others - I can see many mistakes, including some that (with hindsight at least) could have been avoided. Even when I feel I would do things differently given the chance, knowing what I do now, I would still run the risk of making perhaps other mistakes and, therefore, I could still be creative and adventurous, if well researched, in my approach. Certainty when regarding future events is a myth, so we shouldn't allow ourselves to be seduced by its siren calls; the unexpected could always be around the corner. Sometimes we will be able to cope with it when it occurs, others perhaps not, and that is just the way life is.
We need to do our best, thinking things through and trying our hardest, but mistakes will still be made and, unless they involve wanton carelessness, there should be no shame attached. We then have to face and correct them, accept and walk away from them or, hopefully rarely, tell ourselves they haven't happened and ignore them, which is surely less than fruitful. Our mistakes are part of us, to be acknowledged, considered, even cherished. By pretending they do not exist we are poorer.
Tuesday, 29 January 2019
Clueless...
It is a source of enduring sorrow for me as a Greek national to watch successive Greek governments behave with a level of incompetence that is unmatched anywhere in the civilised world. It is particularly maddening, though, to observe the current incumbents pretend that they have any idea of how to run a country, never mind one that has endured over ten years of economic hardship. They actually make Mrs. May's mob appear efficient, difficult as that may seem at present.
You will hear little of this away from Greece, as the Government is good at misinformation and pretence, at 'cooking the books' if you like, then pretending all is swell. They work very hard at convincing the EU that they have mastered the crisis, that they have balanced the books and that growth is on the way. Alas it is not so, as growth will only come from the private sector, a sector that under the current SYRIZA government has carried most of the weight of the crisis. And there is no sign on the street that good things are happening, that this is about to change.
There have been grandiose announcements over recent years about the investments that would be rolling in, with international companies supposedly so dazzled by the opportunities available that they'd be throwing money at Greece just to get on the gravy train. Unsurprisingly, little external investment has materialised, partly due to a penal tax system unevenly enforced and partly due to ridiculously outdated attitudes towards business and archaic employment legislation.
For their latest trick this bunch of incompetents has chosen to increase the nominal minimum wage by a goodly amount. Never mind that there is no growth anywhere in sight, never mind that most SME businesses in Greece are just about holding on to life, ignore that this undermines the country's already substandard competitiveness - no, elections are nearing and this makes a good soundbite, creating another make-believe scenario like all the ones that got Greece in this mess in the first place. Politically they may be adept, these creatures - though that remains to be seen at the polls as and when the next elections occur - but commercially they are morons.
Coming as I do from a family that has been international for well over two hundred years and despite having spent nearly half my life away from Greece, primarily in the UK, I remain in many ways a proud Greek like my ancestors before me. But the succession of intellectual midgets who have reduced this lovely little country to pauper status and who, for the sake of their own short-sighted, petty little ambitions, are quite prepared to strip it of all its dignity, I feel nothing but revulsion and disgust.
Furthermore, I refuse to forgive them even though they know not what they are doing.
You will hear little of this away from Greece, as the Government is good at misinformation and pretence, at 'cooking the books' if you like, then pretending all is swell. They work very hard at convincing the EU that they have mastered the crisis, that they have balanced the books and that growth is on the way. Alas it is not so, as growth will only come from the private sector, a sector that under the current SYRIZA government has carried most of the weight of the crisis. And there is no sign on the street that good things are happening, that this is about to change.
There have been grandiose announcements over recent years about the investments that would be rolling in, with international companies supposedly so dazzled by the opportunities available that they'd be throwing money at Greece just to get on the gravy train. Unsurprisingly, little external investment has materialised, partly due to a penal tax system unevenly enforced and partly due to ridiculously outdated attitudes towards business and archaic employment legislation.
For their latest trick this bunch of incompetents has chosen to increase the nominal minimum wage by a goodly amount. Never mind that there is no growth anywhere in sight, never mind that most SME businesses in Greece are just about holding on to life, ignore that this undermines the country's already substandard competitiveness - no, elections are nearing and this makes a good soundbite, creating another make-believe scenario like all the ones that got Greece in this mess in the first place. Politically they may be adept, these creatures - though that remains to be seen at the polls as and when the next elections occur - but commercially they are morons.
Coming as I do from a family that has been international for well over two hundred years and despite having spent nearly half my life away from Greece, primarily in the UK, I remain in many ways a proud Greek like my ancestors before me. But the succession of intellectual midgets who have reduced this lovely little country to pauper status and who, for the sake of their own short-sighted, petty little ambitions, are quite prepared to strip it of all its dignity, I feel nothing but revulsion and disgust.
Furthermore, I refuse to forgive them even though they know not what they are doing.
Monday, 28 January 2019
A tribute to the great Ed Whitlock
Ed who, I hear you ask, dear reader, and I cannot blame you. Though Ed Whitlock is the stuff of legend, he is little known outside the running world, yet he is one of the best long-distance runners of all time, certainly above the age of 60. He passed away in 2017 of prostate cancer at the age of 86, leaving the world poorer - Whitlock held many marathon world records, the most impressive of which may be running it in under three hours above the age of 70 (he was 73 at the time!).
Ed Whitlock was born in the London area and was a competitive runner during and immediately after his schooldays in Britain, but moved to Canada and abandoned running in his early twenties. He went back to it in his forties, concentrating on middle distances until running his first marathon with little preparation at age 48 in 2:31:23. Running petered out again until retirement from the day job in his sixties, when he took up road racing and set himself targets; it's fair to say that he achieved most of these, if not always in the timescale he had envisaged.
It is impossible to convey - especially to non-runners - how enormous his achievements were. He had a runner's build, true, but many others do too without achieving half as much. He obviously had something special, something that allowed him not only to tear up the record books on the way but to do so with grace, style and immense modesty. No preening for him, no posing, no self-importance, but a big smile and a glimpse, perhaps, of the steel underneath that allowed him his achievements. To say that he was admired and revered by his fellow runners (and running enthusiasts) for what he achieved - and the way he did so - is an understatement.
His training routine was completely unorthodox, as he paid no attention to anything other than his running and that at a slow pace - he ran laps around a local cemetery. Not for him the strength training, intervals, cross-training or other 'modern distractions'; why, he hardly even bothered with stretching! He also bothered little about all the technical clothing available, shoes or other equipment, so long as he was comfortable. Most importantly, he made it absolutely clear that his way was tailored to suit him, his body and requirements, and was not to be recommended as a 'how to do it' approach for anyone else.
Yesterday I, at the ripe old age of nearly 64, went out for another of my training 'runs' (more like a stumble, really...), trying as I am to regain the fitness levels I lost after an illness in the summer and subsequent masterly inactivity. While even when slim I do not quite possess a runner's physique, normally I am a decent runner who dreams of one day running a marathon in not much above 4 hours; that is, with all the proper training in place and without injuries. At my age (more or less) the amazing Mr. Whitlock easily ran sub-3 hour marathons, up to the age of 74 and beyond; at 85 he ran the marathon in under 4 hours!
Not everyone can be an Ed Whitlock, for sure, but we should all able to enjoy the benefits of exercise - even competitive sport - at any age. It does us good in every way, provided we are sensible, listen to our body, avoid injuries and train properly. Equally importantly, as far as I'm concerned, we mustn't forget that whatever our achievements there's always somebody else who has achieved more and that it is important to be modest. For all that Ed Whitlock was a role model, and one that I admire immeasurably.
Ed Whitlock was born in the London area and was a competitive runner during and immediately after his schooldays in Britain, but moved to Canada and abandoned running in his early twenties. He went back to it in his forties, concentrating on middle distances until running his first marathon with little preparation at age 48 in 2:31:23. Running petered out again until retirement from the day job in his sixties, when he took up road racing and set himself targets; it's fair to say that he achieved most of these, if not always in the timescale he had envisaged.
It is impossible to convey - especially to non-runners - how enormous his achievements were. He had a runner's build, true, but many others do too without achieving half as much. He obviously had something special, something that allowed him not only to tear up the record books on the way but to do so with grace, style and immense modesty. No preening for him, no posing, no self-importance, but a big smile and a glimpse, perhaps, of the steel underneath that allowed him his achievements. To say that he was admired and revered by his fellow runners (and running enthusiasts) for what he achieved - and the way he did so - is an understatement.
His training routine was completely unorthodox, as he paid no attention to anything other than his running and that at a slow pace - he ran laps around a local cemetery. Not for him the strength training, intervals, cross-training or other 'modern distractions'; why, he hardly even bothered with stretching! He also bothered little about all the technical clothing available, shoes or other equipment, so long as he was comfortable. Most importantly, he made it absolutely clear that his way was tailored to suit him, his body and requirements, and was not to be recommended as a 'how to do it' approach for anyone else.
Yesterday I, at the ripe old age of nearly 64, went out for another of my training 'runs' (more like a stumble, really...), trying as I am to regain the fitness levels I lost after an illness in the summer and subsequent masterly inactivity. While even when slim I do not quite possess a runner's physique, normally I am a decent runner who dreams of one day running a marathon in not much above 4 hours; that is, with all the proper training in place and without injuries. At my age (more or less) the amazing Mr. Whitlock easily ran sub-3 hour marathons, up to the age of 74 and beyond; at 85 he ran the marathon in under 4 hours!
Not everyone can be an Ed Whitlock, for sure, but we should all able to enjoy the benefits of exercise - even competitive sport - at any age. It does us good in every way, provided we are sensible, listen to our body, avoid injuries and train properly. Equally importantly, as far as I'm concerned, we mustn't forget that whatever our achievements there's always somebody else who has achieved more and that it is important to be modest. For all that Ed Whitlock was a role model, and one that I admire immeasurably.
Monday, 21 January 2019
And the winner is: Tennis!
Cards on the table time, there is nothing quite like winning in a competitive activity. Winning at the top level in anything (well, almost...) is absolutely amazing and gives the winner an incredible feeling, something impossible to describe. Being human, it is then easy to get carried away on the strength of being a winner and become obnoxious, tiresome, supremely arrogant.
Roger Federer has been at the top - or thereabouts - of the tennis world for a very long time, still playing amazing tennis at the advanced (ha-ha!) age of 37 and is currently ranked no.3 in the world. He has broken most records available by playing supreme tennis - stylish, powerful, effective yet graceful. More importantly for me he has always appeared to be a graceful, modest, polite human being, never spiteful in defeat but displaying an iron discipline to 'do better next time'. He is a true icon of the sport of tennis, someone to be roundly admired.
The young Greek man - Stefanos Tsitsipas - who has just beaten Roger Federer in the Australian Open 4th round, hopefully represents the future of tennis, or certainly of the kind represented by Roger Federer. Not only does he play in a style reminiscent of the master, but with the benefit bestowed upon him by his youth (he is only 20 years old) he can make the power and elegance last and last. Furthermore, while he is obviously a very determined young man, he is also calm, modest and polite; he knows he has supreme ability but is comfortable in his own skin.
The little I have seen of Tsitsipas playing tennis, including a few minutes of highlights of the 4th round in Australia against Federer, he plays exciting tennis that is a joy to watch, push-push-push all the time. His strokes are big, elegant and powerful, with a style defined by athleticism and great court control. Should he be fortunate and not suffer any serious injuries, physical or mental, we should see a lot more of this man at the top of the tennis tree. He may even cause tennis mania in Greek youth...
Roger Federer, gracious in defeat as always, praised Tsitsipas highly, saying he lost to the better man on the day. Tsitsipas himself could hardly believe the scale of his achievement, especially against a man who had been his idol as a young player and was still a force to be reckoned with. Let us hope that both men continue to shine with their skill and grace on the world tennis stage and giving us all comportment lessons off it.
Roger Federer has been at the top - or thereabouts - of the tennis world for a very long time, still playing amazing tennis at the advanced (ha-ha!) age of 37 and is currently ranked no.3 in the world. He has broken most records available by playing supreme tennis - stylish, powerful, effective yet graceful. More importantly for me he has always appeared to be a graceful, modest, polite human being, never spiteful in defeat but displaying an iron discipline to 'do better next time'. He is a true icon of the sport of tennis, someone to be roundly admired.
The young Greek man - Stefanos Tsitsipas - who has just beaten Roger Federer in the Australian Open 4th round, hopefully represents the future of tennis, or certainly of the kind represented by Roger Federer. Not only does he play in a style reminiscent of the master, but with the benefit bestowed upon him by his youth (he is only 20 years old) he can make the power and elegance last and last. Furthermore, while he is obviously a very determined young man, he is also calm, modest and polite; he knows he has supreme ability but is comfortable in his own skin.
The little I have seen of Tsitsipas playing tennis, including a few minutes of highlights of the 4th round in Australia against Federer, he plays exciting tennis that is a joy to watch, push-push-push all the time. His strokes are big, elegant and powerful, with a style defined by athleticism and great court control. Should he be fortunate and not suffer any serious injuries, physical or mental, we should see a lot more of this man at the top of the tennis tree. He may even cause tennis mania in Greek youth...
Roger Federer, gracious in defeat as always, praised Tsitsipas highly, saying he lost to the better man on the day. Tsitsipas himself could hardly believe the scale of his achievement, especially against a man who had been his idol as a young player and was still a force to be reckoned with. Let us hope that both men continue to shine with their skill and grace on the world tennis stage and giving us all comportment lessons off it.
Thursday, 17 January 2019
Last minute treat!
You have often heard me, dear reader, talk about how lucky I am in having good friends, friends who not only look out for me but have helped me in substantial ways in my hour(s) of need. One of them, ACM, happened to be in the neighbourhood today, after extensive travelling on business and leisure (the Christmas holidays) over the last few weeks, and invited me to a last minute dinner and catch-up last night.
Many years ago, during my properly active wine merchant days and when we both lived in London, I used to occasionally help top up his cellar with rather fine things from time to time. Though without stock of my own these days I am happy to advise if and when needed, and to help in the consumption of what is already in friends' cellars as and when invited. Some of the wines catch even me by surprise, rather unusual for an old dog like me, but on this occasion I must admit to a very pleasant turn of events.
We only had two wines for the two of us, one of which was no surprise at all, a glorious blanc des blancs Comtes de Champagne 2006 from Taittinger. This is made only in good years (though with global warming and more efficient technology these are more plentiful) and, as the description previously given implies, is made only from Chardonnay grapes. These come from top vineyards rated grand cru and, together with the attention heaped on the grapes by the Taittinger team, produce a very refined wine indeed. This is class in a glass, toasty, yeasty, spicy, refined and delicate, but not lacking power and length. The vintage we tasted, from a tricky vintage and over ten years old, was young and vigorous with more in store - a superb, restrained champagne and a real treat!
The surprise of the evening, though, was a claret from the 1975 vintage. Now 1975 claret has had a chequered history, starting life lauded as a super star when first tasted, only to fall from grace in the mid to late eighties as the wines failed to soften and its tannins proved to be longer lived than the fruit. This general opinion lingered, yet time has helped some of the better wines emerge from their tannin cocoon and achieve their long-expected stature. So when my friend proposed a 1975 I was highly sceptical, fearing the worst but knowing I was safe, as there were several potentially interesting alternatives.
Chateau Lynch Bages (Lunch Bags to the UK wine trade...!) is a wine long regarded as batting above its 5th Growth official classification; so it proved this time. Whilst the cork was at the end of its life, I managed to remove it more or less in one piece with the aid of a screwpull-type corkscrew, some deft handiwork and a bit of luck. The wine was decanted and sieved, had vigorous very young colour and hardly any sediment, looking nothing like the 43-year old veteran that it was. The nose was full of rich red berry fruit, hints of grassy mint and vigour, whilst the palate was smooth, rich, clean and seductive, still young and with decent, if not excessive, length. Well, I say! I had expected a wine lacking in fruit, harder and nearing the end of its days but this, though possibly better a few years ago, has years ahead of it... wow! A classic, classy claret to stir the old loins, a perfect drink to enjoy - and a pleasant surprise to boot - and, though fine Bordeaux wines can never move me in the way that fine Burgundy does, this was that often talked about but rarely encountered rarity, textbook fine claret.
That, dear friends, is the beauty of wine and of wine appreciation. Wine is a living thing, capable of great disappointments but even greater thrills, surprises and real pleasure. It is a life-enhancer, a bonus, something that can make our life better if halfway understood, is properly appreciated and even loved. Yes, fine wine is also a commercial product, but one that is alive and made with affection and dedication rarely found elsewhere.
No wonder the ancient Greeks had a god of wine (Dionysos) I don't know of a product more deserving.
Many years ago, during my properly active wine merchant days and when we both lived in London, I used to occasionally help top up his cellar with rather fine things from time to time. Though without stock of my own these days I am happy to advise if and when needed, and to help in the consumption of what is already in friends' cellars as and when invited. Some of the wines catch even me by surprise, rather unusual for an old dog like me, but on this occasion I must admit to a very pleasant turn of events.We only had two wines for the two of us, one of which was no surprise at all, a glorious blanc des blancs Comtes de Champagne 2006 from Taittinger. This is made only in good years (though with global warming and more efficient technology these are more plentiful) and, as the description previously given implies, is made only from Chardonnay grapes. These come from top vineyards rated grand cru and, together with the attention heaped on the grapes by the Taittinger team, produce a very refined wine indeed. This is class in a glass, toasty, yeasty, spicy, refined and delicate, but not lacking power and length. The vintage we tasted, from a tricky vintage and over ten years old, was young and vigorous with more in store - a superb, restrained champagne and a real treat!
The surprise of the evening, though, was a claret from the 1975 vintage. Now 1975 claret has had a chequered history, starting life lauded as a super star when first tasted, only to fall from grace in the mid to late eighties as the wines failed to soften and its tannins proved to be longer lived than the fruit. This general opinion lingered, yet time has helped some of the better wines emerge from their tannin cocoon and achieve their long-expected stature. So when my friend proposed a 1975 I was highly sceptical, fearing the worst but knowing I was safe, as there were several potentially interesting alternatives.
Chateau Lynch Bages (Lunch Bags to the UK wine trade...!) is a wine long regarded as batting above its 5th Growth official classification; so it proved this time. Whilst the cork was at the end of its life, I managed to remove it more or less in one piece with the aid of a screwpull-type corkscrew, some deft handiwork and a bit of luck. The wine was decanted and sieved, had vigorous very young colour and hardly any sediment, looking nothing like the 43-year old veteran that it was. The nose was full of rich red berry fruit, hints of grassy mint and vigour, whilst the palate was smooth, rich, clean and seductive, still young and with decent, if not excessive, length. Well, I say! I had expected a wine lacking in fruit, harder and nearing the end of its days but this, though possibly better a few years ago, has years ahead of it... wow! A classic, classy claret to stir the old loins, a perfect drink to enjoy - and a pleasant surprise to boot - and, though fine Bordeaux wines can never move me in the way that fine Burgundy does, this was that often talked about but rarely encountered rarity, textbook fine claret.That, dear friends, is the beauty of wine and of wine appreciation. Wine is a living thing, capable of great disappointments but even greater thrills, surprises and real pleasure. It is a life-enhancer, a bonus, something that can make our life better if halfway understood, is properly appreciated and even loved. Yes, fine wine is also a commercial product, but one that is alive and made with affection and dedication rarely found elsewhere.
No wonder the ancient Greeks had a god of wine (Dionysos) I don't know of a product more deserving.
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