It had been an unseasonably beautiful October. The nights were cool, not cold, and the days were glorious explosions of vivid autumnal colours and welcome warmth, the low sun emitting enough heat for comfort in T-shirts at midday. With the approach of Halloween, Mike had been fully immersing himself in horror, as he did every year.
I've been in Priorat for just over 24 hours, and considering the brisk winestyles that I customarily advocate, I'm still not over the irony of going out of my way to be in this wild outpost of Northeastern Spain. But I have to admit something — I love Priorat! The place, that is... but also the wines that I encountered today!
My father made his living selling sporting goods. As an adult I'm entirely apathetic about sports and the goods that they require, but as a youngster, I didn't know that there was any other option but to participate in endless variations of physical activity. Dad made sure that I was well equipped for all of them.
