Off to Tuscany tomorrow.



And before anyone goes “Lucky sod!”, it’s work, OK?

Back Saturday night.

Anyone that reads my ramblings on a regular basis will know that I am an advocate of the Mac platform. In my last job I had a fair degree of autonomy and so when I went computer shopping, I was free to pick my platform of choice. Not so in my current employment, and when I started in January, I was given a standard-issue Dell laptop.

It's quite a good machine, in all honesty. It has a 2.2 GHz Intel Core 2 Duo processor, 2 gigs of RAM and a 120 GB hard disk. Windows XP SP2 came pre-installed, and even though it's a big improvement on my last experience with Windows (W98), it's very frustrating to use at times.

There are days, like today, when everything you run crashes. Open an Excel spreadsheet. Crash. Try to extract an e-mail address from a message in Outlook. Crash. Try to drop an image into a Word document. Crash.

However, when I was in Dublin earlier today, I saw the electronic billboard at the top of Grafton Street and realised that I wasn't the only one having problems with Windows today. (I took the photo on my phone, so sorry for the poor quality.)

I arrived back from Vinitaly last night, absolutely exhausted. I was away for five nights, so it was nice to be back in my own leaba again.

To those outside the wine business, the idea of going to Verona to taste wine for five days sounds like a cushy number. Of course, it is an enjoyable and educational experience, and for a first-time visitor like myself, a real eye-opener as to the breadth and depth of wine available from Italy. Up to now my area of specialism has generally been French wine, but my new employer majors big time on Italy, so Vinitaly was a great opportunity to get myself up to speed.

But this was a work trip, and it was five days of hard work. I had to meet all of our suppliers and taste all of their wines, writing meaningful tasting notes that I can refer to in the future as I sell these wines to my customers. Happily, our buyers are experts who have a deep understanding of what Italian wine is all about, so it was no hardship to meet some fascinating winemakers and taste some great wines.

Conventional wisdom dictates that you should taste white wines first and then reds. We decided to do the opposite and taste the big, full bodied reds first thing in the morning. The rationale behind this was that by the afternoon, our palates would be knackered and unable to tackle the reds, and the fresh crisp whites would give us a lift from the late afternoon slump. Happily this worked, and we got through prodigious amounts in the first three days.

Italy is a treasure trove for the wine lover. If you are a fan of international varieties like Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc, Cabernet, Merlot, Syrah, Pinot Noir, etc., you'll find plenty to please you. If you like to try indigenous varieties, you won't have to look too hard to find something to pique your interest, whether it's a Nebbiolo, Barbera or Dolcetto from Piemonte; a Teroldego, Marzemina or Lagrein from Trentino; a Montepulciano from Abruzzo; an Aglianico from Campania; a Primitivo, Negramaro or Malvasia Nera from Puglia; or a Nero d'Avola from Sicily.

I have neglected Italian wine for too long, because in my last job it was something of an afterthought. As a result, I never kept up with the advances made in certain areas. Two of the most famous wines from Veneto, Soave and Valpolicella, I had overlooked for years. In my opinion, they were dull, overcropped rubbish. But while that may have been the case when I started in the trade nearly twenty years ago, it certainly is not the case today. I tasted some magnificent Soaves in the last week, ranging from the fresh and fruity to some that were very complex and minerally. Similarly, the Valpolicellas I tasted were a revelation, with lovely ripe fruit, clean acidity and the right amount of tannin. The best of Valpolicella, the Ripassos and Amarones were just stunning. Demand is high for these wines and prices are going up.

But for me the biggest eye-opener was the standard of the white wines. Again, in my ignorance, I dismissed Italian whites as neutral and insipid. But how wrong I was. Again it was a mixture of both international and local varieties. I tasted some gorgeous Chardonnay and Sauvignon Blanc from Friuli Venezia Giulia, alongside local varieties like Ribolla Giallo and Friulano. Even Pinot Grigio, derided as the blandest of the bland, in the hands of a good winemaker can be very special. I especially enjoyed some Lugana, a Lombardian white wine from the shores of Lake Garda. From further south, Campania came up trumps with Fiano de Avellina, Sannio Falanghino, and Greco di Tufo.

Like any trade fair, glamour is sometimes used to compensate for lack of quality. There were several stands with dolly birds out front to tempt the punters in. Some of our party decided to put a mathematical theory to the test, that the amount of flesh on display is inversely proportional to the quality of the wine. And so it turned out to be. If the stunna on the stand has big knockers and is wearing a very short skirt, chances are the wine will be shite.

Evenings were taken up mostly with visits to producers. I love visiting a producer's vineyard as opposed to his cellar, as I think you can tell a lot more about a winemaker from how he tends his vines. Good wine starts in the vineyard, and if a producer gets that right, then the job in the cellar is that much easier.

So in summary, Vinitaly was vast. I was there for five days and tasted about 300 or so wines. That's maybe 0.02% of all the wines in the fair. It was an amazing experience, and I hope to do it again some day.

A big milestone in my working life today - I finished up in my current job, ending an association going back 11 years. I had been working for the same employer since November 1996, except for a 22-month hiatus from June 1999 to March 2001. When I started with them originally, I was only taken on as a temporary staff member in the run-up to Christmas.

I start a new job on Monday, with new challenges to get the blood pumping again. My focus will be outside of Dublin, which suits me perfectly.

Someone else who has been ringing in the changes is my good friend Willie Joe, who has moved his Mayo GAA blog onto its own Wordpress-powered platform, just in time for the start of the inter-county action. If you are anyway interested in Gaelic football matters, particularly those related to the fair county of Mayo, you should keep his site in your RSS reader or bookmarks folder.

And speaking of sport, I was supposed to be going to Belfast this evening to see Doug Howlett make his debut for Munster versus Ulster, but the weather conspired against this plan. Which is probably better in the long run, as the inclement conditiions might have made the record try-scoring All-Black legend rethink his move to the Northern Hemisphere.

Things have been quiet on the blog front for the last while, for one reason or another. Work has been quite busy, with a lot of toing and froing. I have found that I have had a dearth of ideas for posts, and those that do crop up seem like too much effort to write up.

But anyways, I'm on hols at the moment. I'm at home minding the little 'un. My sister, who looks after her during the week is away with her gang on their jolliers. My wife started a new job last month, so she can only get one week off, hence my status as a househusband this week. We will be on hols en famille next week.

The burtda went grand. I was working all day, but we managed to avoid the rain in the evening and get the barbie going. A nice piece of lamb was the order of the day, and we accompanied it with a nice bottle that we had originally planned to open last year on the 40th, but circumstances dictated otherwise. (Pontet-Canet 1966, in case you're curious.)

We were in Mayo last weekend, and took ourselves off to the beach on Sunday. Folly, you might think, but it was a lovely day on Cross Strand near Louisburgh. Not warm, as such, but very pleasant. I love the beaches around there, as the sea can be quite wild and dramatic, and also the fact that they are nearly always practically deserted. This weekend was no different, and with the exception of a few surfer d00dz, we pretty much had the beach to ourselves. It was Babba's first trip to the seaside, and she even got to dip her piggies in the Atlantic. Back home on Monday, and since then thankfully the weather has been holding up. Walks at Emo Court are a regular feature of our days this week, and in this weather, it's a very pleasant way to pass an hour.

So what's been going on? I had planned to write at length about the Darren Graham affair, and may yet live up to that ambition. That sort of nonsense should have no place in any sport. Hopefully the GAA will use the opportunity to do something positive.

The recent Irish Times series about "Rip-Off Ireland" almost inspired me to put fingers to keyboard, but so far I have manfully resisted. Maybe next week. Or then again, maybe not.

On the tech side of things, Fake Steve Jobs has been unmasked. Apple have released new iMacs, so my machine is no longer cutting-edge. Still, I got ten months or so on the frontline, so it wasn't too bad a stint. Also, the new iLife and iWork suites have been released. I have ordered my copy of iLife '08 already. And to top it all, my .Mac account goes up from a measly 1GB to a much more respectable 10GB of storage. Once I install Leopard, I will use some of that space to back up all my photos (to go with my current backup regime of external HDD, Flickr and monthly DVD burn.)

Next week is Aoife's first birthday, so there will be lots of excitement to be had. She has a new little cousin as well, who was born just three weeks ago.

Then there's the preparations for the World Cup coming up as well. Loads to write about, just have to find the time.

So that's it. The babba is having a snooze at the moment, but is due to wake up any minute, so I'd better sign off.

I have been selling booze in one form or another for the last 22 years or so, and in that time have had a number of famous customers. I don't know why I have never blogged this before, but I promise you this is all true.

Martin Amis - a regular in the off-licence in North Kensington. A sound bloke overall. Signed a few books for me. The first time I served him, I asked my Geordie colleague afterward did he know who that was. He didn't.
"That was Martin Amis" says I.
"Martin Anus? 'Ooooo the fuck's 'eee?"

Nigella Lawson - in her pre-Domestic Goddess days. Also her late hubby John Diamond. He was a really nice guy and I was genuinely saddened by his untimely death from cancer.

Dr Robert from The Blow Monkeys (He was mentioned in Twenty's post today , and I suppose that's what made me think of this.) He was another regular to the offie, and for a long time I didn't know who he was, but felt that I did know him from somewhere. One day, a new member of staff recognised him, the day he walked in with…

…Paul Weller. We only ever saw him once, and the lad that served him had been a serious fan of The Jam. He bought four cans of Stella Artois. We thought about contacting the writers of Viz to see if they would be interested in doing a strip called "Paul Weller, The Bloke Who Drinks Stella."

Joely Richardson. Again I only met her once. This was when she was starring in "Lady Chatterly's Lover". Barely twelve hours had passed from when I had been ogling her naked person on telly, till she was standing before me in the shop. That was very awkward, and I didn't know where to look.

Mariella Frostrup. Every now and then she'd roll in at 11am for big bottles of Volvic and some smokes.

Michael Winner. He comes across in print and on screen as an arrogant, overbearing prick. I'm happy to report that he is indeed an arrogant, overbearing prick.

Rik Mayall. Bought a packet of fags off me once.

Brett Anderson from Suede. Bought a bottle of wine in our shop once.

Elvis Costello. Used to see him every now and then when I ran a wine shop in south Dublin. Had good taste in Bordeaux reds.

I'll probably think of more, and will add accordingly.

Up to me oxters with work at the moment, so little time to blog. I have plenty of ideas, but when I finally get to sit at the Mac of an evening, I'm too knackered to gather my thoughts effectively.

One idea I had stemmed from the story that thousands of Irish people were going to New York and Boston to do their Christmas shopping. I thought a rewrite of the Pogues' classic song of emigration "Thousands Are Sailing" might be appropriate.
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