Back in 2000 and 2001, Aimé Guibert of Mas de Daumas Gassac and the Mondavi family famously battled over a few morsels of Languedoc hillside.

Old age rarely equates with beauty – until lips meet wine.

Ferrari? Jumbo jet? Ocean liner?

There are many ways of understanding wine, but you’ve never really finished the job until you lace up a pair of boots and leave the car behind.

Stones, wind, silence.

It was almost fifteen years ago that I sat, eating soft-fleshed olives and briny feta, with Christos and Lambrini Lagelou. Midday was drawing on; it was the Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross.

The scene was a large London trade tasting at the Merchant Taylor's Hall: Bordeaux '88s, so far as I remember.

Bordeaux has changed more in the last twenty years than in the previous hundred, yet it still tends to be considered conservative, brahmin-ridden and sclerotic by comparison with the fast-moving south

The bar in the Hotel Meurice was full of weighty African diplomats sinking whisky and muttering into mobile phones.

The Bulgarians are justly proud that Dionysus, the god of wine, is ascribed Thracian origins.