The Great Gamay Sabbatical

I can't explain why it has taken me so long to put words on paper about my trip to Beaujolais. Even worse, why I can't move on to write about other things until I do. My best theory is that we live in a world of headlines - BK Goes to Beaujolais: Changed Forever! But the reality is that some of our most meaningful experiences unfold slowly, quietly, and unexpectedly. I visited Beaujolais in winter. The weather was heavy and grey, just like it was in Oregon when I left. The streets were empty and the windows were shuttered. I had traveled across the ocean. I was armed with maps, lists of wine producers, and the stated goal to learn how to make better Gamay, but on the narrow streets of the ti

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