Welcome to MaY MEMOIR!
Day 7
For the entire month of May, I'll be sharing part of each chapter from my memoir, Ca va? Stories from Rural Life in Southern France.
The vendanges are the annual wine harvest in the fall. It is an event that is somewhat mythical, jovial, and quite often prank filled – or at least when it’s at the vineyard of our good friends, Monsieur and Madame Gousse.
Chapter 6: Les Vendanges
That weekend, we wake up early and head out the meet the Gousses at their vineyard. We drive down the long mountain road watching the sun hide and reappear around curves and behind trees. Eventually, we reach the main highway and drive for another 30 minutes. Leaving the highway, Christophe finds the winding road that leads to their vineyard. We pass a few houses, an old church, and then arrive to a spot where we see their car pulled off to the side of the road. Christophe parks behind them and we get out of the truck. The grass under our feet is long and wet, and places that are still hidden in shadows are covered with a thin layer of frost.
I follow Christophe down a small path and arrive at the edge of their vineyard.
“Well, it’s about time”, Monsieur Gousse booms at us with a big grin.
“That’s what you get for unpaid work,” Christophe says with a smile. “And besides, we’re the first here.”
While the two banter back and forth, I look at the vineyard in front of us. The vines are dark and knotty and are covered with pale yellow leaves, making a stark contrast with the bright blue sky above them. Grapes hang abundantly and vary in color from a golden yellow to a dark purple. The vineyard itself climbs upward and is terraced off into levels. At the very top is a small stone hut, and, like a scripted moment, Madame Gousse emerges from it, and upon seeing us, waves. We make our way through the vineyard to meet her.
“Welcome! So, this is your first vendanges, Lynn? Stick close to me when we work because Christophe has no idea what he’s doing,” she winks. “I set up a table over there,” she says pointing to a clearing. “That’s where we’ll lunch, but for now, I’ve put some coffee out for those who want it.”
Christophe and I serve ourselves a cup of coffee and wait for the others to arrive. Trees surround the vineyard and a canal runs through it. The water gurgles quietly down the hill and joins a stream out of sight. Mountains tower quietly in front of us and provide a majestic background to the entire setting. I feel calm, joyous, and eager to participate.
At the edge of the vineyard, I see other people have arrived. They too exchange some banter with Monsieur Gousse and laughter can be heard. Christophe and I finish our coffee and walk down to meet them. There are about a dozen people and introductions are made, then Monsieur Gousse passes out pruning shears and buckets.
‘Who hasn’t vendanged before?” He asks grinning. I and two other people raise our hands.
“This is your lucky day! For just a small fee, I will show you how it’s done so that all fingers leave in tack. If you do not wish to pay the fee, I cannot guarantee you will have ten fingers at the end of the day. Follow me!”
With that, our small troop is off with Monsieur Gousse leading the way. “Alright, gather around and watch”, he says as he approaches a vine. He takes the pruning shears in one hand and holding a bunch of grapes in the others, cuts it free.
“Ah, my finger!” He cries holding his hand.
I rush to him to see what I can do, while another person runs in the direction of Madame Gousse and her first aid kit. Then, he bursts with laughter.
“Gotcha!” He roars as tears well in his eyes. “I love that joke. Now, seriously, that’s all there is to it, but always hold the grape bunch from the bottom. We don’t want a fingertip in with the grapes; it will spoil the wine.”
At least now I’ll know not to fall for it the next time.
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