Three months have now passed since I started as a vineyard worker at Gusbourne Estate. During those months I have rubbed buds, wound wires, blown leaves, tied vines, knifed nets, and even gathered grapes. Sometimes it has been sunny and fair, sometimes decidedly not so. However, two things remain constant. Firstly, that I will never, never be able to keep up with the redoubtable Tom, who works like a cross between a perpetual energy machine and the Terminator: two legends of fiction somehow made flesh. Secondly, whatever the task in hand, it’ll probably hurt the next morning.
None more so...