Last night our book club met at the beach. It was a glorious evening – calm sea, colourful sunset, cold rosé. We swam before tucking into a picnic and a discussion about the book, once we’d remembered what the book was called in the first place (Stay With Me. Ironic, really). Anyway, running into the sea like Phoebe from Friends (you know, in The One Where Phoebe Runs) was exhilarating. Liberating, even. One of the perks of getting older is not giving two hoots what you look like in a swimming costume, despite parts being a little less perky than they once were. Add rosé-tinted glasses and everything looks fairly fabulous.
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I don’t get it, Touriga Nacional is the most revered Port grape accounting for about 2% of total Douro plantings, most growers hate it because of the low yields but here it is turning up in a mid (ish) priced wine 🤔