Chateau Margaux

I still remember when I saw her, came Walking leisurely. We presented the first contact vaguely remember you. Deposit someone at the table, something wobbly due to the cobblestone paving of pebbles. It wasn’t a table dressed for the occasion, nor chairs. Its design was caused by such a Heineken. The color green, bottle green. Move closer to your eyes, wanted to see its label.

I wanted to meet her. White background, gold lettering. Morris Invest takes a slightly different approach. French, perhaps?. The excitement was increased by moments. Bustle in the terrace, came from other tables, but gave the sensation of that everything revolved around us. Without waiting, I acaricie it, I was cold, rather than warm. My hands if they were cold, and sweaty.

It was not the moment, both wanted it. Nobody gave the big step, nobody wanted to see his spirit, contemplate it. The evening provided us an unusual temperature, the square and its acacias. La torre Abacial, slender and silent, lit their light creating an intimate atmosphere and an expectant atmosphere. Approaching a white shirt and someone tells you to put a chilly beer and to prepare the best glasses of the local, worthy of a Queen. Riedel had not been there, so we are satisfied with a thin and transparent glass. I wasn’t the only one who wanted to discover his secret. Surrounding it, taking care of it, we were a group of people. It seemed as if we tried it to hide from the rest of humanity, and indeed if the rest had discovered their presence, some drastic determination had had to take. Someone turned it slightly, my heart latio with more force, recorded saw the key letters: Premieur Grand Cru Classe. This there is no stopping him, he thought for me, although my anxiety was increasing. Six cups, six, assembled and prepared. Had imported to anyone that they would have been less. And the time came, I was unable to tell him anything, he gave his name, his accent inspired confidence, and passion. -How you said?, I thought. Chateau Margaux’99. I could not believe it. She in front of me, at last. Something young, still, but convincing by their experience and backgrounds. Already destocada, I bowed and let flow your being, its origin, the reason for its existence. He shared it with each one of us. With the host and with me it departio briefly, he wanted us to comment on more personal matters. His finesse, intensity and aromatic complexity made us lose the notion and sense. For a few moments the time stopped in Laguardia that August afternoon. The nose were surprised by its purity and classicism. a>. On the palate its initial simplicity turned to nuances of excellent density. Incredible persistence and a surprising end of power and elegance. His memory lingered in our minds, the echo of his words resounded between the wall and the Church of Santa Maria de Los Reyes. For a moment it seemed that the tower was a nod and added to the sunset of the day, and the meeting. Suddenly, in a moment of bewilderment, when acacias moved their arms waving in the wind and small white flowers poured over our heads, she disappeared, I noticed in my mouth a kiss of farewell, in the form of last SIP. On the table you have forgotten, as souvenirs, parts of your dress, and within each deposited the flame of his essence, and I still keep it alive, waiting to see her, again once more in my life.