Grape Harvest Almost On Our Doorstep.

Vineyards are teeming with activity.

Well, early mornings the rows of vines are mostly quiet awaiting whatever their day holds for them while bunches dangle invitingly in the budding morning sunshine. Most of their foliage has been removed to give the sun more room to imbibe them with nature's energy. The red bunches are growing in size although to me the actual grapes still look smaller than last year at this time.

It is only a matter of days even perhaps a week before the white grapes get harvested. A game of chicken with the almighty weather often ensues as each successive day the grapes are left on the vine, the better tasting they get. A nailbiting and nerve-wrecking two step with any possible storms or early morning frost. Yes, summer is on its last legs and the mornings are delightfully chilly and often chilled. Nothing nicer than to sip a strong cup of coffee on a crisp and chilly morning.

Winecellars are another hive of activity right now. Equipment of all shapes and sizes is being given a thourough clean ( water or citric acid only ) and arranged in the order it will be used. Every move is planned ahead of harvest as it is often a very stressful time, but also a happy time as the fruits of the year's labour are revealed.

Harvesting nature's bounty of all sorts ( grapes, apples, plums or pumpkins ) is a wonderful reminder to us of how abundant nature is and how fortunate we are to be able to live of it. Let's hope this year's harvest will run smoothly and be extremely successful for everyone...

Biggi

A Delightful Day Harvesting White Wine.

A family tradition has set in.

As a scale of reference, Bob's work will harvest white grapes for over a week whereas we harvested the white grapes in just under two hours. All seven of us. But, to us it was still a good day's work and tonight many a back will make itself known.

For me it must have been my eighth white grape harvest ( can't really call it white wine yet ) and by now the routine involved has become familiar and rather fun. It is a time when friends and family come together to help out. A jovial catching up on annual news and a time to have a nice lunch halfway through the day's work. Not often we all sit around a big table!

The weather made an effort to be obliging even going so far as to make us feel cold this morning. Much better than to frizzle and the news must have spread as most of the vineyards were teeming with activity. Picking was on the go, tractors were collecting grapes and odd snippets of conversations were the order of the day. Amazing what one picks up when walking past a busy vineyard.

The miracle of grapes turning into wine never ceases to amaze me. To think that bunches of grapes get picked, de-stemmed, pressed and then stored in a barrel for a year or so before being dolled out like the proverbial happy pills one glass at a time is stunning bordering almost on magical. What the Romans started all those millenniums ago has been repeated harvest after harvest and been perfected vintage after vintage. Long may the wine making continue and more importantly, long may we enjoy the precious wine created.

Biggi

The End Of Harvesting Is Near.

An abundance of grapes.

The air and chardonnay seem to have the same temperature. Crisp, cold but surprisingly bright. Most of the vineyards have been picked by the various troupes of pickers. Faster by the ' pros ' and more sedately by the amateurs, into which category yours truly falls. Thank goodness we picked on Friday as this week it would have been outrageously cold.

Rows upon rows have been harvested with the odd sporadic few rows still bending under the weight of an abundance of grapes. The tractors bearing green vats filled with grapes are ubiquitous on the byways and honestly, driving fast should be scraped during harvest. Overtaking tractors on curvy roads is a no no for me and driving more sedately suits me just fine.

Harvesting means long days but everybody enjoys these times despite being tired. Grapes translate into wine which is what provides either a livelihood, salary or drinks at home. After a few horrid seasons in regards to weather, each and every vintage picked however long it takes is a blessing and everyone sees it as one.

Wine farmers the world over are a rare breed of passionate and ardent viticulturists who put their life and soul into each and every vintage and I think if you have the opportunity to meet a vintner, please take the time to thank them for it. Imagine a world without them? Horrible thought indeed...

When this year's harvest is all over though, I am certain that many will take the time to sit and relax while sipping on last year's spoils...

Biggi

Wine Harvest Round Two.

Today it was the Uhudler's turn.

Funny how much easier the harvest seemed this time around. It has only been a week since we've successfully harvested all of the white grapes ( more than the year before ) and the adage of practice makes perfect holds true.

There were seven of us and somehow we all knew which grapes to snip, buckets to empty and crates to carry. Gosh, if I think back to our first time harvesting, all was blurred in a haze of mystique, even the rather easy part of cutting the bunch of grapes from the vines.

The weather gods were kind to Eisenberg. The sun was out all day, perfect harvesting conditions which most of Eisenberg's vintners took advantage of. Wine farmers do live at the mercy of the weather and every harvest successfully completed is a huge worry off their shoulders. Grapes in particular need every last ray of sunshine to ripen and often the longer they are left on the vine the better the taste down the line. But it takes strong nerves to play chicken with the weather.

I can only say that these Uhudler grapes tasted as nice as they looked. It took us about four hours to harvest all the grapes with an additional two hours to start the first leg of their transformation. De-stemming and cleaning everything thoroughly afterwards.

A divine combination of viticulture and agriculture.

The chapel of Deutsch Schützen has been there for so many centuries and given refuge and faith to wine farmers of yore.

Biggi

Wine, Jolly Hard Work.

Appreciating every last sip.

Somehow one could make a case for the white and uhudler harvest just having been a bracing warm up. A few hours of picking, a few kilometers walked and one trailer full of arm-lifts. Well, little did we know how the divine celestial climes have made a difference to the reds.

At short notice seven of us assembled for the ten a.m. start. The sun was making a comeback, the clouds had disappeared and the mood was jubilant in anticipation of this harvest.
Weinlese / wine harvest is always a jolly affair where friends and family meet up for the day.

Honestly, I thought we'd be done and picked by by two but the chief, mum, reminded me of the length of each row and moved the time marker closer to five...Guess what, mums are always right!

Apart from a few dud bunches of grapes, the harvest was a dream due to the abundance and quality of each bunch of red grapes. Our wine is handcrafted, which equates to each of us getting a pair of pruning scissors, two buckets, a shot of Schnapps for good luck and a few rows to harvest. Gosh, I've got to be honest and tell you that it was exhausting work, spending seven hours filling buckets and carrying them up and down the isles between each row of vines, but strangely satisfying as well.

There were so many picture perfect moments to capture with my camera but alas, my hands were sticky from handling the many hundred bunches of grapes. All of us took each filled bucket back to the waiting trailer and when that was filled, a few of us drove to the cellar to start the de-stemming process.

Oh yes, each crate had to be manually lifted off the trailer, carried to the Rebler and lifted up above our heads to be thrown into it. Each crate must have weighed 20 odd kilograms. The grapes had grown with such abundance and vibrancy that we did the trailer run four times. Not surprisingly, after the last run my arms were a tad bit sore.

Taking part in a harvest despite the hard work is a fantastic experience and even more so when one can do a harvest with family. Special moments, precious memories and not to forget, fabulous Blaufränkisch wine not too far in the future.

Biggi

A Saturday Filled With White Wine Harvesting, Pressing & Insights.

Another gorgeous Südburgenland day.

Some say that the harvest is early this year, some that it is late, but everyone agrees that it is much less than last year. Weather having muscled in on the action throughout the growing period. Bob and I helped my parents to harvest the white grapes. The ' we ' seems a bit stretched as I had two hours of English extra lessons and only got there towards the end of part one.

The de-stemming part which was followed by the best part, a lunch break at one of our local Buschenschanks, Wiesler - Schreiner. Apart from having had fantastic weather, yesterday we were blessed with a fantastic lunch. The bread was fresh and still crackled when one cut the crust and the glass of chilled Welsch Riesling oiled it perfectly.

Did I mention that we sat at the foot of Eisenberg's wine hill? The greens are starting to turn yellow and orange and it brought home the feeling of being on holiday. Yes, we live a life that really doesn't need a holiday.

A couple who are here on a week's holiday had helped with the harvesting and they had the Eisenberg twinkle in their eyes.

The Eisenberg twinkle: When they start to question their own lifestyle and work out the possibility of moving to Eisenberg for good. Some even start to number crunch!

It happens again and again when stressed out people take a holiday in our area, thinking that for a change they'll go into the boring rural backwaters, only to realize and understand that the lives we lead here are what countless others are yearning and searching for their whole life.

On that topic, earlier in the morning as I was going for a walk with a friend, we stumbled across a mini meeting of three people and two dogs. A woman, who looked to be in her mid-thirties, was asking about houses for sale.

" Oh, there are a few lovely houses for sale in and around our village. "
was my input...

" I need to be sure that there is enough going on in the village so that I won't be bored. "

...well, she isn't ready (yet ) for an adventurous life in our neck of the woods...

Biggi

I've Been Bowled Over By A Tibetan Sound Massage.

An experience, that everyone should try sometime.

It is always the unexpected little corner shops, or in this case, out of the way Salons, that hold little nuggets of gold. Now and again the Bobster and I have driven on the country road in Hungary that connects Szmombathely to Eisenberg.

A real treat indeed, as it winds and meanders through the most poetically inspiring rural parts of west Hungary. Personally, I tend to picture Empress Elizabeth riding about in it...it was part of her empire after all.

Halfway home, there is a village called Narda, which not surprisingly caught Bob's fancy and made him slow down enough, for me to espy a sign: Christine's Beauty Salon and commit it to memory.

Last month I ventured a toe over the threshold in order to have it and its nine siblings seen to. A pedicure and while there I saw that a therapist was giving these Tibetan sound bowl massages. Oh yes, just up my alley.

Yesterday the stars aligned in my favour ( maybe it was the full moon ) and I managed to get an appointment for one. When Bob came home for lunch and was regaled about my fortune, he was sceptical enough not to be envious ( that came later when I reported back ).

The sun was in its zenith and driving through the meandering road to get there was the start of my therapy and the good feeling still hasn't stopped since.

The massage itself has to do with sound waves that the many bowls made ( aided by the therapist ), which were circled about my body as well as the three placed on top of it. In some sort of way, it was out of this world and at times the vibrations of the sound bowls were powerful enough to make me feel rather Elvisy...all shook up!

Otherwise, my mind relaxed enough to be at ease and rest, perhaps being in a meditative state. As happens with good things, they do end, but even this morning I still feel marvelous.

For most folks, a massage out of the norm is not something they are open minded enough to have done, but it is often those occasions where we try something different, go a different way home or converse with someone different to the usual, that make life change from bland to interesting.

Biggi

Harvesting The Red Grapes Of Eisenberg,

The manual way or rather perhaps the Manuel-Fawlty Towers way...

All our calendars, social or otherwise, had been cleared to harvest the red grapes yesterday. Mum had checked ahead on the weather online, and we all were on tenterhooks when it was raining early in the morning. But, as they say,fortune favours the brave,the skies cleared and the harvesting went ahead.

As it happens, the weather changed for the better at about nine in the morning, and by the time we had finished picking grapes in the afternoon, I had heard Le Bob tell me at least fifty times that he wished he'd worn shorts. It was hot with blue skies and the bunches of grapes were in perfect condition.

Mostly, only one snip was needed and to be honest, the whole day I was imaginging sipping the ensuing vintage. This year it has been murmured in the vintners' circles that the 2015 vintage will be one of the best in a long time. A few brave souls even muttered that it will be the best wine of the century. This one or the last one? You see, it has been an incredibly hot summer and a summer that was not blessed with too much rain. Ideal conditions for grapes.

The last trip to the grape-crusher, the Rebler, was done and we were in the process of cleaning the last bucket ( and looking forward to a celebratory harvest meal at Bruni's ) when one full bucket of grapes was found in the back of a car. A bucket was not enough to reconnect the Rebler but it was too much to discard. Goodness, that bucket alone would provide numerous bottles of delectable wine!

Only one thing to do. We crushed the wine like they did in the days past. With all the various machinery we use, we tend to forget that wine was made by hand a few hundred years ago. Without machines and only with the proverbial elbow grease.

Three of us sat on a bench and did the old pick & crush two step...take a bunch of grapes, pulling them off the stalk while at the same time crushing each grape between our fingers. Even though we were tired, it was a rather fun way to do it. At least we didn't need to use our feet to crush it!

Isn't it funny how little words make us think of things? Rudi was laughing and said that we really made a real manuel wine...and of course that got my mind straight away visiting the stored memories of Fawlty Towers. and if you also loved that show, I bet you are right now vividly recalling a famous Manuel sketch.

Biggi

All day I had the most stunning opportunities to take photos, but if you've ever done grape harvesting, you'll know that your fingers are sticky as if covered in glue.

There was this one vine clothed in a vibrant stunning red, that was so impressive that I went back at the end, but only after cleaning my hands...

An Ordinary Day, A Happy Day, A Day In Burgenland.

The changing pace of an autumn day.

A gentle start to any day is a good start. Well, gentle as in walking and seeing the last bursts of summer.

I could hear this harvester about a kilometer before I saw it. In fact, I wasn't sure what it was but knew it was big. The purr of the engine is rather bombastic.

The geese are walking in single file while of course chattering or rather gaggling like mad. Enough to drown the noise of the harvester down the road.
B.T.W..the factory you see in the background is MAM-Baby products manufacturing plant. A world wide company, right here in a neighbouring village in Hungary.

The afternoon saw me again in Hungary and as I was driving back home, I saw this mare and her foal. Too cute!

Shopping in Güssing is an event at times. As we took our groceries to the car, there was the castle lording it over everything. A nice feeling to be in the shadow of history.

Driving back home, we found this field of sun-groupies. Well, not that there was much sun left...you can see it in the drooping attitude of each sunflower. But divine none-the-less.

Biggi

And The Wine Harvest Begins...

The local vineyards are teeming with activity.

Weather, weather and some more of the same is what makes everything happen in the vineyards. It determines how good the grapes taste, how big and prolific they are and of course when we get called up for harvesting. Even though summer is over, we did get a late reminder yesterday as it was 30 degrees and perfect for picking.

All morning the troupes gathered and tractors could be heard everywhere. I find our wine area rather authentic as almost all the bunches of grapes are hand picked. In the movies it tends to look rather romantic but it is jolly hard work. Grapes like to grow on a slope and once you've picked them, collected them in simple buckets, you have to carry them to the road.

Despite all the grumbles, picking grapes is nice work and I find it so amazing that a mere bunch of grapes can make great wine. We've most of us grown up believing that factories and supermarkets make food and beverages. Wine has been made for thousands of years and not that much has changed in the making of wine.

Grapes plus time equals wine...

At the end of our harvesting, Bob and I were outside the wine cellar ( Kellerstock ) cleaning the various utensils with high pressured water, when one car after next, filled with eager pickers, drove by. Remember, in our village, seeing more than three cars pass one after the other, is akin to a traffic dilemma. Smog is luckily unheard of here.

To harvest the various vineyards, and some of them are huge, friends help out. It is an unwritten rule that you help each other, and naturally your friends ( or family ) get chosen first. Once you know who owns which vineyard, you can easily work out the social circles of our village. Miss Marple would have had a field day.

Picking grapes is an honour and let me tell you, that there are legions of big city wine lovers, who take a week off work, in order to help with the harvesting. An authentic, soul refreshing, humble, exhausting, wine filled and yet fantastic holiday.

Biggi

The vineyards of Eisenberg and Deutsch Schützen up ahead.