Ambyth! Forever...

Ambyth! Ambyth means “forever” in Welsh. Every now and then, it’s nice to find something that you hope will last forever. 

Take for example, a smooth and complex glass of biodynamically grown and harvested Grenache, Syrah, Mouvedre blend, so delightfully fermented in its terra cotta amphora urns that it just eases its way onto your palate, all suave and sophisticated. Fleeting, yes...but the desire for forever is there. 

That’s my experience of my first taste of one of Ambyth Estates’ vintages. There was something different going on in this wine and I wanted to know what it was. Was it the organic, the biodynamic, the terroir, what??

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Fisherman's Friend

Stephanie and I were sitting in the convivial lounge bar of a pub looking at a fish menu from the heavens. 

I’d gallantly opted to let her have the seat with a harbour view which could also grace the portals of paradise.  

“Hake,” Stephanie grimaced as she named the fish half way down the list. On a bed of tomato and chorizo sauce no less.

“What’s wrong with hake?” I wondered, “I love hake!”

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Uber Urban Foraging

Because you just never know when you’re going to need to call on your inner Hunter/Gatherer.

There’s always something... 

These were the famous last words as I headed to the airport after my last Bohemian Mojo adventure.  It had occurred to me that each time I have attempted to leave the country, some crazy and random situation happens; typically, something that ends up delaying me.

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Food From The Foreshore

THE INTERTIDAL REALMS ARE UNDER THREAT....

We’d talked a lot about the mysterious world of the foreshore at BohemainMojo so Stephanie and I decided we’d take a look at the way mankind explores this enigmatic expanse of tidal marsh, exposed strata, rock pools, sand levels and seaweed beds.

For thousands of years mankind has ventured onto this hazardous, intertidal zone in search of food to forage. We know that because of the evidence left by hunter gatherers. Not least of which are the huge middens of limpet shells which they’d collected to cook on heated, flat stones.

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The Sacred Valley of the Grey Wethers

gatebarrowmodA chill autumn day and the Mojo team were walking up a valley into the chalk downlands that lies between the town of Marlborough and the famous Stone Circle at Avebury four miles away.  

In the West of England such valleys are often called combs (pronounced cooms) a word derived from the Celts.  They are generally steep sided, meandering affairs created thousands of years ago by Ice Age glaciers or their melt waters.

In the summer they are carpeted with all manner of wild flowers; harebells, bee orchids, yellow rattle and cowslips to name a few. A myriad butterflies feed off the flowers while skylarks sing in their thrilling elevator flight.

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Wild Weather and Cornish Endeavour

Lord it blew. How it blew! 

The gravel hard rain had stopped but the wind was still pushing us here and there as we scurried along the harbour side looking for somewhere to eat. And then the Cornish storm literally pushed us into the doorway of what, at first glance, seemed to be a whitewashed cottage on the quayside. But there was a menu posted in the doorway and, hopeful, we stumbled out of the gale into a hearty welcome. We’d found Outlaw’s Fish Kitchen and we were about to experience an assault on our senses to rival the weather’s blast outside. 

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