Before we became winemakers, we drunk any wine we could find at the places we arrived at. The taste of the wine didn't matter as much as the adventure that brought us drinking it. After having made several millésimes of wines and becoming rather sedentary than rovers, we lost the taste for wines without quality. What a massive loss of freedom when you think an evening can be spoiled with a bad wine. Well, but what about those failed days that can be turned to glory by a great wine? Is it reversing the vagabond philosophy?

We made some wines for ourselves that we can carry to any place in any climate and that we can serve to any unknown to make her or him clement about life and the failures of existence.

For the vagabond hidden in the soul since the last rodeo.

Mythopia - natural wines made from pure grapes with the music of wild bees and the mania of it's growers