FRANCE: The récolte is in and the wine may be good, but the economics make no sense, writes Séamus Martin of his own few vines and of the plight of his neighbours in Puisserguier
To the casual observer everything about the wine harvest in southern France looks normal. The little tractors have been busy towing their loads of grapes to the huge co-operative wineries and to the smaller private wine producers.
Small groups of pickers could be seen working the smaller family holdings while huge harvesting machines trundled their way through the larger estates. Signs at the entry to the villages of Languedoc-Roussillon alerted motorists to the dangers of slow-moving agricultural machinery with the message: "Attention Vendanges - Soyez Prudents."
At our local cave co-opérative (wine co-operative) the scenes were familiar too. Tractors dumped trailer-loads of grapes into the vast bins that awaited them. The grapes were then wound into the bowels of the cave by Archimedean screws. Measurements of weight and potential alcohol content were taken automatically and growers waited in small groups to see the results of their year's work displayed on a screen.
My postage stamp patch of Grenache Blanc gave almost 600kg at an unexpectedly strong 15.2 degrees while my even smaller parcel of Carignan Noir, with a yield not much heavier than myself, came in at 12.7.
At current prices, it did not take long to work out that expenditure on the 2006 vintage would considerably outweigh income. The cost of fertiliser alone would not be recouped, not to mention the spray to counter mildew and a particularly virulent attack of the fungal spore known as oidium. The cost of labour for pruning, spraying, fertilising and harvesting was not worth thinking about.
For someone who tends his vines as a retirement hobby, the result was by no means disastrous. But for those whose livelihood depends on the vine there was no mistaking the air of crisis. Despite all the appearances of life going on as usual, the vendange of 2006 has been very different from most of its predecessors.
Many vignerons (winegrowers) were harvesting some of their parcels of land for the last time before their vines were ripped from the earth as uneconomic units.
Alongside the sign warning drivers to be careful at the entrance to our little town, another message, daubed in red paint, read: "Village Viticole en Péril" (Winemaking Village in Danger).
One elderly and highly professional producer in my village, Pierre Comps, was resigned to having part of his family holding taken out of production.
Monsieur Comps is 84. His AOC Saint Chinian, recognised as the most Bordelais (Bordeaux-like) of the wines of the Midi region, is of exceptional quality. Two of his parcels, le Soleiller and les Penelles, have won gold medals from the ministry of agriculture. The Soleiller wine has made it on to the menu at the restaurant in the Assemblée Nationale (parliament) in Paris as a "coup de coeur", or recommended favourite. Despite all this, his production must be cut in order to stay in business. And despite the fall in revenue to the producer, supermarket prices for wine have remained steady and, in some cases, increased.
The current crisis can be put down to over-production linked to a drop in consumption internationally.
This fall in consumption of wine has been universal. Good wines, not only in Europe but also in Australia, are being destroyed or turned into industrial alcohol. The success of junk food is being mirrored in the drinks market, particularly amongst young people in northern Europe.
Unsophisticated "junk drink" such as alco-pops and shots of vomit-inducing but high-alcohol hooch have won over the youth market from more civilised alcoholic beverages. They have also induced a great deal of less-than-civilised behaviour.
Overproduction of poor-quality wines, so prevalent in the distant past in Languedoc, has been replaced by overproduction of good-quality wines. Even the region's exceptional wines are suffering because their names are not as well known outside of France as others whose success is based on out-of-date reputations.
The challenge to French and indeed to other European wines comes from the "New World": Australia, Chile, New Zealand, South Africa, Argentina and the United States.
The European Union's agriculture commissioner, Mariann Fischer Boel, believes there is a way to restore Europe's wines to their former glory. She has called for a "root and branch" reform. In this case the term can be taken literally. One of her main proposals is that of the "grubbing up", as she puts it, of 400,000 hectares (1 million acres) of European vineyards over five years. The region of Languedoc-Roussillon, the world's biggest wine-producing area, will undoubtedly be a major target.
Under the proposals a clearer, simpler, more transparent quality policy, establishing two classes of wine - wines with or without geographical indication - would be established along with simpler labelling rules to make things easier for consumers. The practice of chaptalisation, adding sugar to enrich the alcohol content of wine, would be banned.
How these proposals have been received in a region with a historical aversion to central authority and where an entire army regiment once mutinied in support of wine growers will be dealt with in the next and concluding article.